Page 81 of Lucky Mother Pucker

Lucy looks up at me with an adorable amused smile. “Well, here are a few flower tips for you. Roses are classic. They’re pretty, available in lots of colors, and you can get them anywhere. They’re a little cliché, but that’s not a bad thing. Almost everyone likes roses. Peonies are a little more unique. And harder to find. And a more expensive. If someone gets you peonies, you know they like you.”

I smile at her explanation. We walk up to the bartender, and I turn to Lucy. “What would you like to drink?” I ask her.

“Could I have a glass of champagne, please?”

“Certainly, miss.” He turns to me. “And what can I get you?”

“Could I get a club soda with lime?”

He turns away to pour our drinks. He hands us our glasses. We thank him, and I drop cash in the glass tip jar on the bartop.

We walk over to a standing table near the corner. Lucy takes a sip of her champagne. She closes her eyes and hums. “Mmm bubbles.”

I grin at how happy she looks.

“So peonies are your favorite flower then?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “They’re pretty. If someone got me a bouquet of peonies, I’d be so happy. But Gerbera daisies are my favorite.”

“What are those?”

“Oh my gosh, you really are clueless, aren’t you?”

I can’t help but smile at her teasing tone. I shrug. “I’m more into hockey than flowers.”

She grins. “Fair. Okay, so Gerbera daisies are just bigger daisies. They’re really colorful too.” She goes quiet for a second. “They were my mom’s favorite flowers.”

My chest aches at the sad look in her eyes. But then she smiles softly, like she’s remembering something.

“My dad used to get her a bouquet of Gerbera daisies in every color for their anniversary.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” I say.

“He planted some in our front yard as a surprise for their anniversary one year…” Her eyes glisten as she looks down at her champagne glass. “That was right before he got sick.”

That ache in my chest deepens.

“After he died, whenever I missed him, I’d tend to the flowers he planted. I’d water them and pull out all the weeds. I’d make sure they looked as good as possible. And for a little while, I’d feel a little better because doing that helped me feel closer to him.” She’s quiet for a long moment. “The last time I went back to the house, all the flowers were dead.”

Her eyes fill with tears, but she quickly blinks them away.

It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Fuck, I hate seeing her in pain.

I have the sudden urge to run out and buy her a million Gerbera daisies in every color.

I’m aching to hold her, to hug her close to me, to comfort her…but I stop myself. That feels like crossing a line. We’re friends, but…we don’t really do that.

So I just gently take her hand in mine and give her a gentle squeeze, silently wishing I could do something to take her pain away.

“I am so sorry, Luce.”

She sniffles and shrugs. “With my stepdad living there and in charge of everything, I should have known he’d let the flowers die. The outside of the house looks pretty rough too. A few of the siding panels are falling off. And the lawn is overrun with weeds.”

I think about how Lucy mentioned that her dad loved working on the lawn. It must be heartbreaking to see it in that condition.

“Wait, your stepdad let you come visit?”

She shakes her head. “He dumped a bunch of my parents’ stuff on the curb and called me to come get it before the garbage truck came.”