“And?” Blue cocked a brow at his brief, cold answer. He could tell by the way Margaret was fidgeting in the same fashion Lizzie did when she was nervous that she was biting back a response. Or maybe suppressing the desire to nudge her husband into saying more.
“Let me share with you what I’ve learned about Lizzie,” Blue said proudly. “Did you know that after working a ten-to-twelve-hour day at the flower shop—the flower shop that she managed to open and run successfully on her own—she takes flowers to the cemetery and leaves them on the headstones of people whose graves go untended?” He noted the quizzical look in her father’s eyes and softened his tone. “Sometimes she takes them to the assisted-living facility, or the firehouse, or the police station. She’s also been known to hand flowers out to strangers as they pass by the shop after hours.”
Blue shifted his eyes to her mother. “And did you know that the things she bakes for her show go to the homeless shelter? That’s right, at six thirty in the morning, with a full day ahead of her, she takes it upon herself to deliver the freshly baked goods to those who need them.”
“I didn’t know that,” her mother said wistfully.
When her father still didn’t respond, Blue said, “And the show she’s created? She works on that late at night most days, after she’s gone to the homeless shelter, worked a long day at her flower shop, and delivered flowers to whomever she thinks needs them the most.” In an instant, Blue decided not to try to explain to Lizzie’s parents how successful her webcast had become or that she was in talks with a major network to sell the rights. He didn’t get the sense that her success made a difference one way or another, and who Lizzie was had nothing to do with her success. If her father couldn’t see how caring, how selfless, and how incredibly generous his daughter was, it was his loss.
To his surprise, Vernon’s shoulders dropped a hair. If Blue hadn’t been watching for clues of the man softening, he might have missed it.
“Lizzie is a hell of a businesswoman, but more importantly, she’s the most generous person I know.” Blue slid his hands casually into his pockets and shrugged.
“I just thought you should know, and I’m sure you already know that the money she earns from the webcast goes directly to Maddy’s school expenses. She doesn’t keep a penny for herself, even though that means she pays a higher tax rate on her earnings from the flower shop.”
He held a hand out to shake Vernon’s, and Vernon’s mouth opened, as if he was going to say something, but as Blue shook his hand, the man remained silent.
This conversation is nowhere near over.
Blue kept his thoughts to himself as he took Margaret’s hand between his and thanked her for taking the time to speak with him. He took a step toward the door, unsure if he’d made a difference or not, and before walking into the foyer he said, “Thank you for raising such an amazing daughter. She was so determined to put her own social life aside in order to fully concentrate on earning enough for Maddy’s education that she refused to go out with me for an entire year—what she didn’t know was that I would have waited ten, if that’s what she needed to feel safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SKY WHOOSHED THROUGH the front doors of P-town Petals carrying bags from Wild Rice, a clothing shop at the west end of Commercial Street. It was a pricey shop, with dressier clothing than Sky typically wore, and as Lizzie came around the counter to greet her, she wondered where Sky was going to need to wear something so special.
“Dinner with Sawyer’s parents?” she guessed.
“Ha! Hardly. These are for you, girlfriend.” Sky plopped the bags on the counter and began rummaging through them. “I knew you wouldn’t have time to shop for an appropriate outfit before going to your big meeting in New York. And let’s face it”—Sky ran her eyes down Lizzie’s P-town Petals T-shirt and jeans—“Cape Cod attire is not exactly big-city appropriate.”
Sky pulled out the prettiest navy blue skirt and white blouse Lizzie had ever seen. It looked more professional than anything she had ever owned.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Lizzie couldn’t help running her fingers over the silk blouse.
Sky put it in her hands and then withdrew a pair of nude-colored heels and a cute pair of earrings to top it all off.
“I don’t know what to say.” Lizzie was completely befuddled. No one had bought her clothes in years. Sky had lived in New York before returning to the Cape a few years ago. If anyone could pick out the perfect outfit for a meeting this important, it was Sky. Her style was more relaxed, like Lizzie’s, but she’d struck the perfect balance between professional and casual. Lizzie knew she’d feel like a million bucks in the outfit.