No. She needed the cooler to last another year—like she needed the van with its iffy transmission to last another six months. Preferably twelve. A headache began to pulse at the edges of her brain at the thought of her nearly empty bank account. Using only one cooler would mean reducing inventory, which meant possibly not being able to meet the needs of her customers. Which meant less income. And she couldn’t afford to lose a single cent at this point.
To say The Lily Pad operated on a shoestring budget was to put it optimistically.
She pulled open the door, even though she didn’t doubt Beth. She could feel the difference as soon as she walked in. She tapped the thermostat with her finger. Maybe it was stuck somewhere? She should be so lucky.
“Call Gary at General Repair,” she said to Beth. “See if he can get us in today.”
“On it.” Beth hurried to the phone.
Lainey headed to the working cooler to do some rearranging. Some of the more delicate flowers would have to be moved over.
She tamped down the spurt of fear and worry that threatened to explode. No point inviting trouble, and Lainey figured she had enough to fill her personal quota. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh, green scent of the flowers, with their overtones of sweet and tangy and spicy. It always, always relaxed her just to breathe in the flowers.
But not enough, today, to rid her of her worries. About choking coolers. About babies. Lainey smothered a sigh. If she’d stayed home two months ago part of her predicament wouldn’t be here. She’d invited trouble. Or, more accurately, trouble had invited her.
Of course she hadn’t turned him down.
“Gary will be here at eleven,” Beth said from behind her. “Want me to help move things?”
Lainey glanced at her watch. An hour and a half. “Sure. We’ll just move a few for now. Let’s group them by the door so we can open it a minimum of times.” The colder it stayed in there, the better for her bottom line. She couldn’t afford to lose a cooler full of flowers.
“Are you okay, Laine? You’re awfully pale,” Beth commented as she lifted a bucket of carnations out of the way.
Lainey sucked in a breath. Should she tell Beth? They’d been friends for years. Beth wouldn’t ridicule her for her mistake with Jon. It would feel so good to tell someone….
“Lainey?” Beth’s head was cocked, her brown gaze worried. “What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, and burst into tears. Beth hurried over to her, nearly knocking a bucket over in the process.
“Honey, are you sure?”
Lainey nodded and swiped at the tears. “Pretty sure.” Five separate pink lines couldn’t be wrong. Could they? “I’ll have to go to a doctor to confirm it, though.”
“Oh, Laine.” Beth hugged her, stepped back. “How far along? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
Lainey closed her eyes. Here we go. “Well, I’m actually not. I’m about eight weeks along.” She’d let Beth do the math.
“So that’s—oh.” Beth drew out the word and her eyes rounded. “Your class reunion.”
“Yeah.” Lainey couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze. Her poor baby. How could she ever explain the circumstances of his or her conception?
“So who’s the daddy?”
“Jon Meier.” Lainey could barely say his name. “We … ah … hit it off pretty well.”
Beth gave a wry chuckle and opened the cooler door, a load of calla lilies in her hands. “So it seems.”
“I have to tell him, Beth, but he lives so far away. Plus the whole thing was pretty forgettable, if you know what I mean. We used protection, but obviously …” She shrugged and swiped at her leaking eyes again. “It didn’t work.” An understatement if she’d ever heard one.
“He’s not father material?”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t as if they’d discussed things like personal lives. “Plus he lives in LA. He’s in some kind of entertainment industry work. He’s not going to pull up and move back to Northern Michigan.” He’d made his contempt for the area crystal-clear.
“Sometimes having a kid changes that,” Beth pointed out.
“True.” Lainey didn’t want to think about it. “But I think we were pretty much in agreement on how awkward the whole thing was.” So much for sex with no strings attached. The baby in her belly was a pretty long string. The length of a lifetime, in fact.
She wanted to bang her head on the wall. What had she been thinking, leaving with Jon that night? Was her self-esteem so damaged by her divorce she had to jump on the first guy who smiled at her?
Best not to answer that.
“I think you’ll be a wonderful mom,” Beth said, and Lainey’s throat tightened.
“Really?” She couldn’t keep the wobble out of her voice. Beth’s confidence touched her. Her family would look at her being single, pregnant and nearly broke and lose their collective minds. She shoved the thought aside.
“Of course. You’re wonderful with my kids. Now, let’s get this finished before Gary gets here.”
“It could go at any time?” Lainey could not believe she’d heard the repairman correctly. A year—she only needed twelve measly months. Why, oh, why was that too much to ask? “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We can cobble this along for a few more months. But you are definitely going to need a new unit.” Gary’s lined face wasn’t without sympathy.
She took a deep breath. “Do what you have to, Gary. I need it to last as long as possible.”
The repairman nodded and returned to the cooling unit.
Beth stood at the counter, ringing up a large bouquet of brightly colored carnations. A great sale, but not nearly enough to buy a new cooler. Or even a used one.
“Thank you. Have a great day,” Beth said to the customer as he exited the shop. To Lainey she said, “What’s the news?”
“We’re going to need a new cooler. Sooner rather than later, probably.” Exhaustion washed over her and she sank down on the stool behind the counter. “Even used, that’s not something I can swing yet.” Or possibly ever. No cooler, no business. No business, no cooler.
No business, no way to provide for the baby.
A wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought. Another failure. This one could be huge.
“Oh, man.” Beth leaned on the counter. “Well, let’s see. We’ve got the Higgins wedding coming up. We need more weddings. The funeral business has been picking up. That’s good. Maybe….”
She hesitated, and Lainey knew what her friend hadn’t said.
“Maybe if my mother sent business my way we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” she finished. “I know. I agree. I’ve asked.” The answer, while not in so many words, was that the florist her mother used had been around a lot longer and wasn’t in danger of folding. The implication? Lainey would fail—again.
Beth winced. “I know you have. I just wish she’d support you. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay. It’s the truth. I don’t know what will change her mind.” Lainey stood up. “Let’s finish getting the deliveries ready.”
As Lainey gathered flowers and greenery she wondered if she’d let her business go under rather than ask her parents for a loan. They’d give her one, with plenty of strings attached, and she’d have to crawl to get it. This was supposed to be her chance to prove she could make something of