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“This is Josie, my date. Josie, this is Norma, my great-aunt.”
Norma’s smile widens, and the other women in the back all “aww”. I offer my right hand to Norma, and she takes it, shaking my hand softly. Her hands are wrinkled and soft, and her strong floral perfume itches my nostrils so badly I have the urge to hold back a sneeze. All in all though, she reminds me of my own grandmother who passed away when I was a senior in high school. Her white gray hair is short, and curled in fluffy waves around her head. Her blouse is a cream color, with a matching cardigan over top. She has on a pair of brown slacks, with a set of pearls hanging around her neck. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was dressed to go to a Sunday church service, rather than a Paint ‘N Sip at the local craft store.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer when she drops my hand.
“You too, dear. Are you new in town? I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
I nod. “Yeah, I moved here about half a year ago from Brooks Hill.”
“Oh, yes, one of my granddaughters moved there after college, with her late fiancé. Such a cute town.”
“It really is.”
“What brought you here?” she asks.
“I was ready for something new. I started my own floral company, and I wanted somewhere that I could start from scratch,” I answer, leaning into Andrew’s arm. He squeezes my hand again.
“Oh, you’re the new florist?” Her voice rises an octave, and she waves her friends over. “Gals, this is the new florist, she did the flowers that Ken got me for our anniversary last week. Oh honey, those flowers were just gorgeous, and they lasted so long!”
I do my best to show her how grateful I am. “Thank you so much, I’m so glad you loved them. I love hearing back from people, so thank you for the kind words.” My chest warms at her remarks. I haven’t gotten too much feedback yet from customers, good or bad, so to have her tell me this has me practically giddy.
“Say, since you’re here, can I put in an order?” One of the other older ladies asks. “My granddaughter graduates high school soon, and I’d love to get her a bouquet.”
“Absolutely,” I say, an overwhelming excitement bubbling up. “I can give you my card. Call me later and we can discuss what I have available, or can order in.” I reach into my bag, pulling out a few business cards that I have on me. They all take one, staring down at them in excitement.
“Yes, perfect!” She practically sings. “This is so wonderful. Our town hasn’t had a florist since Doris retired.”
Andrew chuckles. “While I love the enthusiasm for my girl, ladies, I’m going to steal her away now. I believe we are about to do some painting.” He points to the front of the room where a woman who appears to be in her forties stands, a wide smile on her face. Andrew leads me over to a table in the third row, with only two seats at it, and two canvases, blank, and ready for paint.
Meanwhile, my mind is still stuck on the fact that he called me his girl. Is that what I am? I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but isn’t it a little soon to be making things official? I don’t have time to question him though, as the woman in front begins to speak.
“Hello, everyone,” she begins. “Looks like we have a lot of our regulars here this evening,” she nods to the group of women with Norma, “and some newcomers.” She waves at Andrew and me. “Welcome to Paint ‘N Sip. My name is Lucy, and I’m the owner of The Paper Kite. We have a few more coming, but I figured we could start with some of the basics. First, I want everyone to know that just because there is alcohol here, it does not mean you have to drink it. We have non-alcoholic options available to you, as well as some snacks, over on the opposite wall.” She points in the direction of the table filled with various food items.
“Next up, tonight’s theme is florals. I have the example canvas up front.” She points to the displayed canvas, which has a simple design on it. Two daisies, one pink, one red, with a gradient background. I’ve never been an artist, but I’m looking forward to having some fun with tonight's activity. Lucy finishes her introductory information, giving everyone a few minutes to grab some snacks, and a drink of their choosing.
Andrew squeezes my thigh gently. “I can go get us some drinks, what would you like?”
“Hmm,” I ponder for a long moment. “I’m not huge on wine. Surprise me?”
“You got it, petals.” He rises, heading off to the table of food and drinks. While he’s gone, I let my gaze explore the store. Behind me, there are rows and rows of yarn in varying shades and types. In another aisle, there are canvases of all sizes, along with any other supplies you might need for painting or sketching. My attention is drawn to the main entrance at the sound of a bell chiming.
A woman dressed in a pair of black dress pants that hit the middle of her ankle, a burgundy top, and a black blazer enters the store. Her platinum blonde hair is slicked back into a ponytail, with not a hair out of place. She is the definition of professionalism and class. My eyes stray downward when I see a little girl clasping at her leg. She appears to be about five or six, and her long brown hair is in two braids on either shoulder.
She tugs on the hem of her mom’s blazer, and she bends down to let her daughter whisper into her ear. She smiles, eyes glittering as she looks across the room. Straightening, she waves to whomever she was smiling at, and the child tucks her face into her mother’s side.
I’m surprised when I turn my gaze, to find that it’s Andrew she’s waving at. Andrew strides over to our table, setting down a plate of snacks, and two cans. “Josie, come with me?” he asks. I like that he always gives me an option, never telling me what I should do. I nod, a little confused, and honestly? I'm a little jealous that this gorgeous woman is waving at him. I know I shouldn’t, and have no reason to, but he’s such a catch that I can’t help it.
I stand from the wooden chair, fixing my skirt so I don’t flash anyone, and take the hand Andrew is offering.
“Hey, Fallon,” he says when we get closer. He leans over slightly, waving gently to the little girl. “Hey, Presley.”
“Hi, Andrew,” she murmurs, her voice sweet and soft.
“Are you going to paint with your mom tonight?” Andrew asks her. At the mention of the activity, she lights up, nodding aggressively. She smiles widely at Andrew, revealing her two front teeth to be gone.
“Yes, and I’m going to paint the prettiest flower, and then I can show it to my grandma when she comes to visit me this weekend,” she says, her voice growing louder with each word.
“Holy buckets, that’s going to be so fun!” Andrew cheers. He offers his hand for a high- five, and Presley smacks her palm to his in an impressive high-five. Andrew dramatically shakes out his hand, wincing in pain. “Ouch, kiddo, you’ve got a strong arm.”
