Page 42 of Make Me Yours
We easily discussed the details—what flowers Jaqie loved, how many tables they’d need centerpieces for, and whether the bridesmaids’ dresses were really blush or more of a dusty rose. Millie had that kind of easygoing energy that made time slip by.
She talked about Jaqie’s fiancé, a soft-spoken guy from over in Boseman, and how Joe still couldn’t talk about the wedding without his throat tightening. “That girl’s had him wrapped around her finger since she learned to walk,” she said fondly. “Still calls him ‘Daddy’ when she’s nervous. He’s pretending not to melt every time she does it.”
The words hit something tender in me. The image of a father proud and flustered for his daughter stirred a pang I hadn’t expected. I forced a smile, focusing on jotting down flower names instead of the ache blooming in my chest.
“I think ivory roses, soft pink peonies, and pale green eucalyptus would suit her,” Millie said after a moment, looking satisfied. “Soft, pretty, nothing fussy. Like our girl.”
“That’ll be beautiful,” I agreed, writing it down. “I’ll order the supplies I’ll need to get started this afternoon to make sure everything’s perfect.”
Millie nodded, then reached into her purse for her checkbook. She wrote out the deposit, handed it over, and squeezed my hand across the table. “You just keep doing what you do, Lilly,” she said warmly. “The rest always works itself out.”
“Thanks, Millie.”
She smiled, tucking her glasses back onto her head. “Tell Joe I said good luck with that tie,” I added.
“Oh, he’ll need it.” She laughed and waved as she turned for the door.
As it closed behind her, I stood there for a moment, watching sunlight spill across the counter, the scent of banana bread lingering. Things had started to feel almost normal again for the first time in what felt like forever.
Soon, the afternoon light slanted through the front windows, warming the counter where Millie and I had sat earlier. I wanted to hold on to that easy, hopeful feeling she had left behind, so I threw myself into work before the quiet could turn heavy again.
I pulled my notepad closer, jotting down what I’d need for the first round of orders—glass vases, ivory ribbon, floral foam, and the basics. It felt good to focus on something normal. Something I could control.
I called my wholesaler, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Hi, this is Lilly Mitchell fromBloom & Vine. I just need to restock for an upcoming wedding—same account as usual. I added a new credit card a while back.”
The woman on the other end recognized my name immediately. “Of course, Lilly. Let me run your card on file.”
The faint sound of typing filled the pause. Then the woman’s tone softened. “I’m sorry, Ms. Mitchell, but the charge didn’t go through.”
My heart dipped, a slow, sinking pull. Of course it didn’t. I’d only sent half the minimum payment a few weeks ago—just enough to buy time. I hadn’t had enough to send the rest, and now the month was up.
“Right,” I said quietly, throat tight. “That makes sense. I’ll call back.”
Before she could reply, I hung up.
The silence that followed pressed hard against my chest. I stared at the phone, shame curling low in my belly. I’d known I was falling behind, but hearing it out loud made it real.
Sunny stirred from her nap and came to nudge my leg. I crouched, running my hand over her silky fur. “I’m okay,” I whispered, though my voice cracked slightly.
The tears came anyway—quiet at first, then harder—until the shop blurred and the only sound left was the soft rhythm of Sunny’s breathing beside me.
The front door opened, and the sudden draft stirred the refreshing scent of the shop swirling around me. I straightened quickly, swiping at my eyes with a crumpled tissue. Probably another customer, I thought—someone wanting a last-minute bouquet or a refill for a standing order.
But then I heard his boots on the floorboards, that steady, deliberate sound I’d already memorized.
Sawyer.
He stepped inside with that quiet confidence that always filled a room, but his easy smile faltered the second he saw my face. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
I shook my head fast, trying to find words that didn’t sound pathetic. “No, our baby’s fine.” I hesitated, a humorless laugh catching in my throat. “I’m just… stuck. My card got declined,and I can’t pay for the supplies I need to get started with a large order.”
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then: “Call them back.”
“What?”
“Call them back,” he repeated, already reaching for his wallet.
“Sawyer—”
