“Hey,” I say in response, pushing away my food. “What’s up?”
“Just…interviews. I’m in between, wanted to check in.”
I nod, but then I realize he can’t see me. “Thanks,” I say. “How are the interviews?”
“Good so far, all things we can work with.” He clears his throat. “We miss you here, Bee.”
I have to choke back tears. (Come on, Levi, I think, but he doesn’t know how guilty I feel.) “I know,” I whisper. “I miss you guys, too.”
“But, of course, we understand,” he adds, and sighs. “Any news?”
I take a bite and chase it down with the last of my water. “He’s going in for surgery this weekend,” I say, trying out the words.
Levi hums tunelessly. “Is that…a good thing? A bad thing?”
“Not sure,” I say. “Hopefully good.”
“Hmm. Can I come see him this week?”
“You can always come see him.”
“Is that Levi?” my dad asks from behind me.
I turn around and smile my best. “Yeah.”
“Tell him I said hi.”
I relay the message. “I think he misses you,” I add, a little quieter.
“Dude, I miss everyone—even Tom.” He laughs, but it sounds forced, not the Levi laugh that makes everything better. “Come see me tomorrow if you can. I’ve got one interview at four and then maybe we can get donuts or dinner?”
I frown. “I don’t think I can. I have the late shift tomorrow, so by the time I get done, it will be after dinner. Plus I have to go to the hospital in the evening.”
My dad says, “You don’t have to, Bee.”
I ignore him. “I’ll call you tomorrow night, though.”
“Sounds good.” He sighs, mumbling something under his breath as he moves around. I hear papers rustling and what sounds like someone knocking. “Hey, I think that’s my next interview. Call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
He hangs up, and I lock my phone and return to my cold dinner.
(He didn’t say he loves me.)
Tracy’s shop is in chaos, and it’s only one in the afternoon. My shift has just begun, with five hours left on the clock, and our flowery world is falling apart. (Just like everything else. Go figure.)
I check the clock for the billionth time since arriving an hour ago. One-oh-five. Great. It’s only been two minutes since I last checked, and it feels like an eternity.
“Beeeeeee,” Tracy sings from the back of the shop.
I drop the calculator and receipts I’m holding and bend to her will. “Yes, ma’am?”
She is frazzled, her hair tied back with a loose ribbon (probably from the ribbon rack). She nearly drops a bubble vase as she tries to carry three to the sink with one hand. “Oh, Bee,” she says again.
(Did I mention she’s crazy?)
“Yes?” I repeat, a little more hesitant.
“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.”
“What?” I ask drily. (The number of times she says this to me every week is innumerable. And it’s always grave.)
“You remember that funeral I had you book for this week?”
I squint. “Was it the Jameson funeral or the Carlos funeral?”
“Jameson.” She sighs. “Well. I forgot that Ludwig is out of the country this week and he won’t be back until Saturday. The funeral is Friday.”
“We…can’t take it?”
Tracy grunts, scrubbing away at the vase she nearly broke. “It has to be there at seven in the morning, my dear, and we all know what I’m doing at seven in the morning.”
I rub my forehead. “Right. Perusing the flower market.”
“And on top of that, I have a wedding on Saturday, which means I can’t miss the flower market because they have the dahlias I need or so help me God this bride will ruin me.”
She’s exhausting me just talking about it. “What do you want me to do?”
“Can you take it?” She looks up from the sink and smiles a fake, cheesy smile at me. “I’ll pay you overtime. And you’ll need someone else to help you because the order is huge. I’ll pay an army overtime to get this done.”
“I, erm…” I don’t know anyone who would possibly be able to help me except Levi. Fortunately for me, Tracy answers my next question before I have to (awkwardly) ask it.
“If it’s your boyfriend you need to bring, that’s fine with me. So long as you’re not…you know…with him on the job.”
I blush. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“Good. He’s hired.”
“Um. I’ll have to ask him, first.”
She waves me away, so I pull out my phone and text him. His response is almost immediate, but it’s a phone call instead. “What’s up early Friday morning?”
I sink back behind the counter and whisper, “Aren’t you at work?”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. I was missing you anyway.” The sounds of the shop around him are loud and metallic, a stark contrast to his soft tone.
“It’s work,” I say. “Tracy needs me to take an early delivery, but she said I’ll need help. She wants to pay you.”
“Nah. I’ll help for free, as long as I can hang out for an hour after and eat breakfast with you before you open shop.”
“That should be fine.” I rest my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. “Thanks, Levi.”
“Duh, you’re welcome.”
He sounds a bit more like himself today, which pushes me into a smile. “I love you,” I whisper.
“Who, me?”
This time, I full-out laugh. “Yeah, idiot. You.”
“Not to be mushy, but I love you more.” Somebody at the shop yells his name and laughs like he’s making a joke. Levi laughs, too, shouting something back that I can’t make out. “Sorry,” he says, chuckling. “Are we still on for a phone call tonight?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Call me when you leave the hospital. I won’t wait a moment longer.”
That night I sit on my bed, legs crossed and my phone to my ear, listening to Levi list off the new applicants he met today. There’s a single mom in her thirties who just lost her job but wants to send her son to a good college. Another cancer patient. A woman in her early thirties trying to find her biological father—a long and expensive task. “It’s like we’re expanding but we’re not ready yet, you know?” Levi says at the end, huffing as if he’s out of breath.
“Yeah. But what about the new place?”
“It’s almost ready. Almost. We’ve had to slow down a bit, but we’ll be ready for a soft opening in a week or so. I can’t wait for you to visit.”
I want to see it, but I have no idea when I can muster up the time or energy to drive over, plaster on a smile, take a tour, and talk to people—not when every evening is devoted to hospital visits and sleeping off what has now become a recurring headache. (I don’t tell Levi this.) “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s amazing.”
“Yeah, but only because of all the work we put into it together.”
I hear the sound of his keys jangling and his car starting. “Where are you going?” I ask.
“Home. I worked late tonight.”
“You been working a lot of late nights lately?” I ask, remembering his drowsy eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s going to stop soon. Just have to finish up with this load of applications I got behind on.”
“I’m sorry,” I say immediately.