Page 24 of Had To Be You

And just like that, the question of who is Ellie texting? is dropped.

Phew!

Chapter Eleven

Ellie

Today isn’t my day. I spilt coffee down my favorite dress, just about got hit by a car on my bike ride into Bloom and arrived fifteen minutes late to work as a result.

Did I mention I’m also deadass tired from tossing and turning for hours, thinking about Liam and all the reasons I shouldn’t go on this date with him tonight? I tried everything I could to wipe Liam from my mind, but then I would remember the way he kissed me and how good I felt in his arms. Or those gray eyes of his, the ones that look at me like he’s imagining all the ways he wants to take me. So much for sleep. Day and night, all I can think about is Liam and how badly I want him.

I take a much-needed sip of coffee from my mug - this one reads “Coffee makes me feel less murdery” - and take a look at the arrangement that Leah is currently working on. Leah works full time with me here in Reed Point. I needed the help after Olivia left for Cape May, where we opened our second Bloom location. I was thankful that Leah accepted the promotion and agreed to take on more hours. Having her here to handle the day-to-day has allowed me more time to focus on marketing and social media, and a little more freedom to come and go. And there’s no doubt, we make a great team. We’re constantly running new ideas and trends past one another. Leah works hard and most importantly, she’s great with people. To work as a florist you have to actually like people, be patient and have a certain level of empathy. I like to think we both have these qualities in spades.

I’ve known since I was small that I enjoyed making other people feel good. I was the kid who picked an endless amount of dandelions, twining them together to make tiny bouquets, and gifting them to family and friends. I spent hours creating homemade greeting cards for every possible occasion and always baked treats for the seniors at my grandfather’s care facility. Taking care of others has always made me happy. That’s why I truly believe Bloom is my destiny. And yes, I believe in destiny.

“Is that the order for Mr. Stephens?” I ask.

Leah looks up from her perch at the worktable across the room, where she’s arranging a bouquet of pale pink ranunculus, lilies and white gardenias into a bouquet. “It is. How does it look?”

“Beyond beautiful,” I say, admiring her choice of blooms for Mr. Stephen’s anniversary gift for his wife. He is one of dozens of repeat clients we work with on an ongoing basis. It’s the part of the job I love most: building relationships, getting to know people. I love what I do.

“Thanks! When I finish this, I’ll start potting the orchids.”

“That would be great,” I say, digging around in my purse for my pouch pharmacy. Every couple of months I’ll receive a package from my mom containing a new batch of her latest herbal remedies and salves. What started as a hobby in our kitchen years ago has turned into a small business with cult classic items that people pay good money to get their hands on. I unzip the small bag, reaching for my Ginseng supplement and peppermint balm. In need of a pick me up, I squeeze a few Ginseng drops into my coffee and roll the peppermint onto my pressure points. Leah looks up from the ribbon she is tying, noticing me with my peppermint roller.

“I used the oils you gave me the other day. I’m telling you… your mom is a miracle worker. I felt like I could scale a ten-storey building in high heels while reading my favourite book. I need to put in an order.”

“I’ll hook you up, but you might be waiting a while. It all depends if I talk to my mom in this century.” I adjust my ponytail, tightening the velvet scrunchie in my hair, thinking of how pretty my mom looked next to my dad in the most recent photo they sent.

Leah shakes her head. “It still blows my mind that your parents travel the country in a van, giving their money away to strangers.”

“It’s not a van, Leah. You make it sound like they roam rural roads looking to kidnap small children. It’s a motorhome. It has a kitchen and a queen-size bed and a bathroom with a stand-up shower.”

“Ooh, it sounds as good as the Four Seasons Hotel,” Leah jokes, rubbing her palms together in mock excitement. “Does it have a pool and a spa too?”

I roll my eyes. I make it a point not to tell too many people about my parents. It’s not that I’m embarrassed, it’s just that most people can’t understand why they’d leave everything and everyone behind for “road life.” It doesn’t make sense to most, but if you ask me this is the life they were destined for. They love the community of people they meet along the way - free spirits, minimalists, adventure lovers. People just like them. Nine-to-five was never for them. And although it means I rarely see or speak to the two people I love most in this world, I can’t help but be happy for them. Happy Ellie, that’s me. It’s genuine, but it also serves a purpose. Happiness has become my armor. It’s how I’ve been able to forget that I’m alone.

“You know I’m just teasing,” Leah says, interrupting my stroll down memory lane. “I think your parents could teach a few of the Reed Point elite a thing or two about being satisfied with what you’ve got.” She’s not wrong there.

“So, do they have any plans for a visit back home?”

“Nothing definite, but I’m sure it will be soon,” I say, turning my gaze back to my computer in hopes of hiding my disappointment. Soon? Probably not. It’s just my way of ending the conversation before it starts. A conversation that will surely crack my heart in two all over again.

A half hour later, I power down my computer and say goodbye to Leah.

“You good to close up here? I have a few errands to run.”

“You bet. It’s not too long until closing time anyways. I gotcha girl,” she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I head out of Bloom and hop on my bike, inhaling the fresh ocean air. Butterflies dance in my belly at the thought of seeing Liam in a few short hours.

I turn down First Street, passing some of my favorite shops. Reed Point is beautiful this time of year, with stores boasting shutter boxes full of brightly colored springtime flowers and striped awnings. The streets are a little quieter too with tourist season not quite in full force.

After a couple of errands, I’m back at home running a bath. When the tub is full, I slip into the water - it’s so hot it makes my skin tingle. I rest my head on the edge of the tub, closing my eyes and inhaling the mango bubble bath I added.

As I sink deeper into the tub, I feel some of the stress I’ve been carrying start to melt away. The harsh reality of my past looms heavily over my head these days. I’ve learned the hard way that feeling all alone can make you desperate, it can cloud your judgment and make you do crazy things. Sometimes those things come with consequences - the kind you regret for years to come.

I finally make the decision I should have made a long time ago. I can’t keep up the lies. The pretending has to end. Tomorrow I will figure out how I’m going to get myself out of this mess.

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