Page 13 of Forget me Knot
The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully, and before I know it, it’s time to close up shop. I turn the sign to Closed and lock the door. As I head upstairs, my mind is still whirling with thoughts of Sam, Jack, and now Max seems to be in there as well.
I need to get a grip.
Easier said than done, though. I change into my comfiest pyjamas and make myself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it’ll help me unwind. Plopping onto the sofa, I flick through the TV, but nothing holds my interest. I keep replaying every interaction with Sam and Jack in my head like it’s on repeat.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, interrupting my daydreaming.
It’s Jack.
“Hey.”
“Hey. How did it go with Sam?”
I chew on my bottom lip for a second before replying. “Good, he helped out with that cactus calamity.”
A few seconds pass before he responds. “Good. Knew he would. That was some big-ass cactus.” He chuckles, but it sounds a bit forced. Or maybe that’s me projecting.
I wonder if I should mention the rose delivery to Max tomorrow, but maybe it’s meant to be kept private, so I don’t say anything. Now, it feels awkward and weird, and I hate that for us. We are friends first and foremost, and now things feel wrong.
“Jack? You still there?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just got distracted for a sec,” he replies, but his tone says otherwise. There’s something off, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“Everything alright?” I press, hoping he’ll open up.
“Yeah, just stuff with the pack.” He doesn’t elaborate, which makes me even more uncomfortable.
“Need a distraction? I’ve got tea and biscuits,” I offer, trying to lighten the mood.
He laughs softly. “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass for tonight. Early start tomorrow.”
“Fair enough,” I say, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. “Catch you later then?”
“Definitely. Bye, Lily.”
“Bye.”
The call ends, and I’m left feeling more unsettled than before. I down the rest of my chamomile tea in one gulp and decide to call it a night. Maybe some sleep will clear my head.
Chapter 8
Lily
The next morning, I wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. The clouds are more prominent this morning, which I decide is a bad omen for the day ahead. After a quick breakfast of toast and marmalade, I head downstairs to the shop.
The roses are still fresh and vibrant in the cooling box and the infusion is ready to be bottled up for the omega ready to collect at noon. I cringe when I remember the delivery for Max is at eleven. I should make it back in time for twelve, but it will be cutting it a bit finer than I’d like.
Pottering about, it’s a slow day, as predicted. When half-past ten finally rolls around, I’m ready to go. With shaking hands, I grab the scent-masker that I made for myself and dab a bit on. The scent of peaches mingles with the scent of the bouquet, and I’m satisfied that I’m hidden as much as possible for this little trip out.
Jittery and nervous, as I load the roses into my tiny car that I hardly drive because I never go anywhere. Okay, I go to Noletown once a week for groceries, but everything else I have right here. Safety, security, and not too many tourists to scareme into being a complete hermit. My hands shake suddenly at the thought of making this trip.
“No, not now,” I groan. I feel the car getting smaller as the doors and windows press in. My breathing is erratic, and I splay my hand on the cool side window to anchor myself.
Deep breaths, Lily. You’ve got this.
Shoving the door open, I gulp back deep breaths when my lungs finally work, and after what feels like an eternity, my breathing evens out, and the car stops closing in on me. I grip the steering wheel tightly, staring straight ahead, glad that no one paid any attention to the omega having a panic attack in her car on the side of the road. It would’ve made it so much worse if someone had hovered over me. Or maybe someone did notice and left me to it. Not in a nasty way, but an ‘I get it’ way.
That is confirmed almost instantly when Mrs Hargreaves appears, making enough racket to warn the dead she was arriving, coughing and stomping her feet loudly. I appreciate the un-stealthy way she made her approach.
