Sheridan. Both were members of the SOS Committee.
Whitney Leigh, a serious young reporter with the Bygones Gazette, spent a few minutes getting background information for Friday’s special edition, but Lily’s stammering answers didn’t seem to impress her very much, so she didn’t stay long. Other than asking how many years of experience Lily had as a florist and who she thought the mystery benefactor might be behind the grants, Whitney only asked a few questions about the specials Lily intended to offer for the Grand Opening.
Lily knew she shouldn’t feel anxious, but she couldn’t help it. So much seemed to be riding on this enterprise, and she couldn’t help feeling unequal to the task. Even as the others ventured in and out of her shop, she wondered when Tate and Isabella would return. She considered calling Tate to ask his advice on a number of small issues but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she got out the paint cans and a brush and tackled the counter.
When Miss Mars closed her shop early and went upstairs, then came down again wearing a hat and gloves with her usual shirtwaist dress, Lily realized that she’d have to do dinner on her own. A moment later an aging but well-kept blue sedan pulled up to the curb, and Miss Mars got inside with another woman. The car drove away, turning left onto Bronson Avenue. Feeling abandoned, Lily gave herself a stern talking-to. She had moved halfway across the country on the basis of a newspaper article. The least she could do now was walk down the street to the grocery store on her own. Determined, she left the shop and set out.
With only three checkout lanes, all currently unmanned, the Hometown Grocery didn’t have much to recommend it when compared to the stores in Boston. The fresh produce department would have fit neatly into the bed of a pickup truck, and the butcher department had obviously been shut down, leaving only a single refrigerated case of packaged meats. Lily wandered the aisles virtually alone, without even the company of piped music to mute the squeak of the wheels on the shopping cart. Nevertheless she found all the ingredients for a fine salad, including a small tin of cocktail shrimp and her favorite bottled dressing. She gave up trying to find a suitable bread to eat with it and settled for crackers, thinking that the new bakery was going to do well here. While she was at it, she bought a few things for breakfast and lunch the following day, too.
Knowing that she couldn’t carry more, she resisted the urge to buy kitchen gadgets from the selection offered and approached the checkout, surprised to find that a tall thin brunette had materialized from somewhere. The brunette displayed quick efficiency, her thin dark hair scraped back into a tight ponytail.
“You must be the florist.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Lily Farnsworth.” She handed over several bills, smiling.
“Heard about you from Tate,” said the brunette, making change.
“Oh?”
This elicited a nod as the woman began bagging the groceries.
Lily couldn’t help wondering just what Tate had said or where he was keeping himself, for that matter. She thought he was supposed to be her host.
“Where is everyone?” she asked tentatively.
“Wednesday evening,” the woman replied, as if that was answer enough. When Lily just blinked at her, she added, “Most folks are in church for midweek service.”
“Ah.”
“Folks don’t have midweek service back in Boston?”
“Some do, yes.” But Lily’s church had not.
“Hereabouts, nearly everyone goes to midweek service,” the checker said. “We rotate shifts here at the grocery so no one has to miss the service more than once a month.”
“I see.”
“Folks in Boston must eat shrimp,” the checker commented cheerfully, pushing the bags toward Lily.
“Yes, we...they do,” Lily said, gathering up the bags. “Boston is known for its seafood.”
The brunette smiled. “That’s good. Maybe I can move those cans back there now.”
Lily glanced down at her groceries and nodded. Canned shrimp and midweek service. Well, it was a start. She had the makings of a reasonable meal and a good explanation for the empty aisles. She liked the thought of a churchgoing community. She’d been the odd man out for as long as she could remember, the one who didn’t fit, even among her own family. Maybe it would be different here.
* * *
Lily slept in the next morning, it being a national holiday. She expected some sort of community Independence Day celebration, but when none had materialized by midmorning, she went downstairs and got busy. Miss Mars came up with a suggestion. Lily doubted it could work at first. Even if the flowers arrived precisely on schedule the next day, she didn’t have the resources to do as the lady proposed.
“You can find what you need in my shop,” Miss Mars insisted. “Just use your imagination.”
Lily shrugged doubtfully. “First I would need to visit the other businesses.”
“Of course. That’s no problem. I think everyone is doing just what you are today.”
How could Lily refuse to try after that? Leaving her shop unlocked—as Miss Mars pointed out, they would be within “shouting distance” all the time—they went from shop to shop, starting with the Sweet Dreams Bakery on the corner. Miss Mars was right. All the newcomers were hard at work.
Melissa Sweeney could not have been sweeter or more enthusiastic, and her shop gave Lily lots of ideas. Melissa eagerly accepted the offer of the loan of a floral arrangement to decorate her counter for the Grand Opening. Josh Smith, at the Cozy Cup Café, who struck Lily as a bit of a computer geek, did the same, as did Allison True at the Happy Endings Bookstore, Patrick Fogerty of The Fixer-Upper hardware store and Chase Rollins at Fluff & Stuff, the pet shop.
The problem remained supplies, but Lily did as Miss Mars advised and combed through the back room of the This ’N’ That, with happy results. Not only did she find some wonderful containers—a tin bread box, an old typewriter, a battered percolator, a bird cage, an antique vase and a rusty length of pipe, as well as a pair of old cowboy boots and the hat to go with them—she even found some usable silk flowers. She also discovered several bits of furniture that she could use in her apartment. In fact, the outdoor stuff that Miss Mars wanted her to consider didn’t look very “outdoorsy” at all. Rattan with red cushions about the same shade of scarlet as the short wall in her workroom, the three-piece set might work out just fine.
Lily took the lot and got it all at a very good price. At least Miss Mars was seeing some profit from the SOS project. Hauling as much of her newly found treasures over to her place as she could, Lily discovered that she had company.
“Lily!” Isabella cried. Dressed in patriotic garb, she rushed forward to throw her arms around Lily’s waist as if they were old, dear friends. “Happy Independence Day!”
Lily laughed, juggling armfuls of treasures. “Hello. How good to see you. How have you been?”
“Fine. Your shop looks pretty.” Isabella obviously liked the lavender counter and the little scarlet heart dotting the i in the shop logo.
“I’m guessing that your favorite color is purple,” Lily said, depositing her goods on the countertop, but Isabella shook her head.
“Pink!”
“Really?” Lily brushed off her hands, smiling. “I’ll remember that.”
Tate, whom Lily had tried hard not to notice too keenly, made an impatient sound. “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes.”
Lily’s delight at seeing them diminished. “I’m sorry. Miss Mars came up with a plan for me to make floral arrangements for each of the new shops to use as decorations for the Grand Opening, but I had to find the right containers. And look! Just look at what we found.”
She started describing