A Bouquet of Love (23 page)

“But I don't want you to go. Not now. Not when I . . .” His words drifted off, and I thought for a moment I saw pain in those gorgeous brown eyes. “Cassia, you have to know how I feel about you.”

“I . . .”
I do.
But he'd never come out and said it, had he?

He pulled me into his arms, then pressed a kiss into my hair. “You mean so much to me. You have to know that. If you go away, it will kill me. I'll—”

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The clanging of the bell at the front door alerted us to the fact that more customers had entered. I took a giant step backwards—a good Greek girl would never be caught in a compromising position, after all—and shifted my attention to an elderly woman who wanted to order sixteen sandwiches for her Bible study group.

Minutes later Alex received a work-related call and had to leave. Looked like I would have to wait to hear what he had to say. Not that I had time to really think about it. A larger-than-usual lunch crowd swarmed the place, nearly running us out of lamb and ready-to-go salads.

Babbas served up gyros with a broad smile, looking happier than I'd seen him in ages. Mama worked in silence but offered a convincing smile to our guests. My brothers and sisters bused tables, swept, and mopped, but kept their thoughts to themselves. And Athena and Stephen ate their lunch and made a few calls on their cell phones, then got back to work at the front table, where they'd pretty much taken up residence.

Around 1:30, a text came through on my phone. I half expected it to be from Marcella, wondering why I hadn't shown up for my afternoon shift at the florist shop. Instead, it was from Alex. Three words . . . but they caused my heart to twist inside me as I absorbed the depth of their meaning.

Please.

Don't.

Go.

You might be Greek if your only vacation is back to the homeland.

T
he next couple of hours I managed to carry on a hushed conversation with Athena, who sat in the front booth with Stephen working on their sitcom idea. Well, in between waiting on customers I talked to Athena, anyway. Most of our conversation revolved around our family's situation, but some of it ended up being about my job at the flower shop.

I shifted gears after my heart grew heavy and redirected the conversation back to Athena and the sitcom. “Do you think you'll go on writing forever?” I asked.

“I hope so.” She ran her fingers across the closed laptop. “Can't imagine giving up something I love.”

Ugh. She would have to say that. If I went back to Santa Cruz, I wouldn't just have to give up my blossoming romance with the man of my dreams, I'd also have to give up working at the flower shop. The very idea broke my heart. Sure, there were florists in California, but starting over held no appeal, not when I loved my job here so much.

Stephen looked up from his open laptop and shook his head. “Athena will never quit writing, trust me. She'll draw her last breath seated at the laptop, typing out her final thoughts.”

“What would you write?” I asked. “If you knew it was the last thing you would ever get to write—if you could really say whatever was on your heart—what would it be?”

She appeared to think about that. “I guess I'd say that life, as sweet as it is, is just a glimpse of what's coming next. That heaven is our real home. It's not a fictional story, like the sitcoms I write. It's real.”

Wow. I hadn't expected something this serious from my over-the-top funny cousin.

“And then I'd say that we have to have a relationship with Jesus to get there,” Athena added. She paused a moment, then looked at me. “So let me turn the question back on you. What would you say?”

“Oh, me?” I put my hand up. “Trust me, I'm not a writer.”

“You don't have to be to answer this question. What would you say, Cassia?”

I closed my eyes and gave a moment's thought before speaking. “I would say that life is like a rose. Some seasons are closed tight. We can't see what's inside. Can't see all the way to the center, to the real beauty. But then God sends the wind and water and sun along and they pry it open.” I smiled, thinking of how the Lord had done that very thing in my life
over the past several weeks, not just in my relationship with Alex, but with my new friendships too. “That's what he's been doing in my life,” I said. “He's taken this little bud of a girl, tightly closed, and opened her up one petal at a time.”

“Sounds like God has really been working on you since you moved here.” Athena reached over to grab my hand. “I'm so glad.”

“Me too.” My heart swelled with a mixture of joy and pain as I thought about the truth of her words. I'd grown so much over the past few weeks. Coming here to Texas had matured me in a thousand ways.

“One more thing,” I added. “I think, hard as it is to admit, that the real beauty comes after adversity. After the rain. After the sun. After the wind. It comes when you're finally opened up. If you think about it, the scent of the flower is sweetest at that point, even though the journey was a tough one.”

Whoa. Where had all of that come from?

Stephen looked up from his computer to give me an admiring look. He offered a nod, then went back to typing.

“You should be a writer, Cassia.” Athena gave me a comforting smile. “I love the way you word things.”

“No thanks. I'll stick to flowers. They're my gift.”

“Sure, but be careful not to limit yourself.” Athena took a sip of her diet soda. “You are obviously a girl of many talents.”

Generous words, coming from someone with so many gifts and abilities. I smiled and whispered, “Thank you.” Oh, but how I wished one of my talents included being in two places at once. Then I could stay here with Alex and go to California with my family all at the same time.

After Athena and Stephen left to go to their hotel, she and I continued our conversation by text message. I half expected
her to celebrate our family's return to the Golden State, but I could tell from her texts that she felt we belonged here on Galveston Island, and not just because of the show.

We do belong
here! I don't want to go anywhere.

Those words kept skittering through my brain as I waited on our larger-than-usual afternoon crowd. But what choice did I have in the matter? If the whole family left, I'd have to go with them. As much as I hated being tied to Babbas's apron strings, I'd hate even more to live without my family.

But I'd also hate living without Alex.

Every time I thought about leaving him behind, a swarm of angry bees took to buzzing around in my belly. Felt like it, anyway. Nothing seemed to lift my spirits, not even humming ten Judy Garland songs in a row. No, the day was shot, and I couldn't get it back again.

Or maybe I could.

At a quarter after five the trio of women from Splendora converged on Super-Gyros, dressed in the brightest neon colors I'd ever seen. Florals, no less. Now, I liked flowers, but this was a little too much for me, and definitely hard on the eyes, especially when you factored in Twila's garish hat, complete with a large silk carnation in a blinding shade of fuchsia. The fact that the back of her skirt appeared to be twisted up in her undergarments didn't help either.

I gestured to her backside, and she wriggled the fabric back down into place, muttering, “Merciful heavens! Why didn't someone tell me?”

“We were down on the island to sing at a women's event,” Bonnie Sue said. She pointed at her outfit. “The island beautification society. They had a gardening theme. Very colorful.”

“I see.”

“They served us a teensy-tiny lunch,” Twila said and then rubbed her stomach. “Really, not enough to feed a baby bird.”

“So it only made sense to stop by and have dinner at one of our favorite restaurants!” Jolene grabbed a menu and perused it as she continued to talk. “We simply couldn't wait until we got back to Splendora. It's quite a drive, you know, especially at this time of day.”

“Oh yes.” Bonnie Sue shifted her ginormous lime-green handbag from one shoulder to the other. “It just made sense to stay on the island until evening traffic time was behind us.”

Looked like they'd be with us a couple of hours then.

“We bickered over what to have—pizza or gyros.” Twila giggled as she clapped her hands together. “I won. I voted for Super-Gyros. We can have pizza anytime, but I don't know any other place to get a great gyro than right here!” She began to sing the praises of our family's shop, and before long the other ladies were shopping our store shelves for a variety of items. Mama joined them and soon they were chatting comfortably as if they were old friends. Then again, the Splendora trio seemed to have that effect on people.

After they'd placed their orders, Mama seated the vivacious gals at a table nearest the counter. She delivered their food a short time later, and Twila asked for extra tzatziki sauce. Bonnie Sue took a bite of her gyro, and her eyes rolled back in what appeared to be delirium.

“Dee-lish-ous!” she proclaimed.

“I know what would be perfect with this. Have you tried our kalamatas?” Mama went behind the counter and came out with a little dish of them. “Ours are imported, of course. You'll never taste anything like them. I always say they're as ripe as if we plucked them off the tree ourselves.”

Bonnie Sue balked when Mama offered her the first one. “I'm not an olive fan, sorry.”

“You will be after you taste these.” Mama stood firm, bowl of olives in hand.

Though she appeared hesitant, Bonnie Sue took the olive and popped it in her mouth. Her grimace eased into a smile—a broad smile. “Oh. My. Goodness!”

“I know, right?” Mama giggled.

“I can't believe I lived this long without eating kalamata olives. And what a beautiful color they are too!” Bonnie Sue laughed, stuck her plump hand back into the dish, and came out with a second. Then a third.

“Save some for me, for pity's sake.” Twila stepped in between Bonnie Sue and the olive bowl. “You're not the only hungry one in this crowd.”

Sure enough, we did have a crowd. Our three favorite nuns arrived to purchase enough sandwiches for all of their fellow sisters back at the convent. They greeted Twila, Jolene, and Bonnie Sue with hugs all around, then grabbed their food and headed off.

Looked like Babbas's advertising was really paying off. Dozens of people came in with coupons in hand. Others carried the flyers Babbas had peppered around the island. A couple mentioned seeing Babbas's advertisement in the local paper. Still others shared with gusto about how their friends had sung the praises of Super-Gyros, so they had to try it out for themselves.

Sad that all of this had to happen now, just as we prepared to shut down the place.

Of course, no one but the family knew, and I certainly wasn't going to spoil everyone's good time today. The Splen
dora ladies were all giggles and smiles as they ate . . . and ate . . . and ate their dinner. When the crowd thinned, they were still with us, now setting up camp in our kitchen, where Mama shared story after story from our years in the restaurant business.

“Sounds like you're just where the Lord planted you, honey.” Twila reached to give Mama a hug, and I watched as my mother melted into her new friend's embrace.

“Praise God for his direction in your lives,” Bonnie Sue added. “He led you here to Galveston, and he led your sweet Cassia all the way to Splendora to meet us.”

“And to meet that handsome nephew of mine.” Twila gave me a motherly wink. “He's quite a catch, but then you've already figured that out, haven't you.”

I nodded, unable to respond over the lump in my throat. Alex was quite a catch, all right. Only, I was about to let him slip off my hook, wasn't I?

Bonnie Sue reached over to the counter and snagged the last remaining piece of baklava from a sticky tray. This sent Twila into a panic. She began to fan herself, her cheeks blazing as red as the maraschino cherries in the jar nearby.

“Bonnie Sue! You didn't pay for that.” Twila slapped her friend's hand and the baklava shot in the air.

Bonnie Sue caught it with her other hand with the skill of a pro baseball player. Before popping it in her mouth, she looked at Mama and said, “Do you mind? I'm happy to pay for it. After I eat it, I mean.” She shoveled it in, chewed and swallowed it, then sighed in pure delight. She licked each sticky finger, a look of delirium on her face.

“Pay for it, my eye.” Mama pulled out a fresh tray of the sweet stuff and put it in a large to-go container. “You'll do
no such thing. You've been such a blessing. Why, you'll never know how amazing your timing is. I needed a bit of socializing today.”

“Oh, well, you're in luck! We specialize in socializing.” Jolene eased open the to-go container and weaseled out a piece of baklava, then popped it in her mouth.

“Well, if you can't beat 'em . . .” Twila pulled the top off the container and helped herself to a piece double the size.

This got Mama so tickled that she couldn't stop laughing. Babbas came into the kitchen at this point, likely wondering what the howling was about. He took one look at all of the estrogen in the room and quickly backed out. I didn't blame him.

When the ladies finally left, I pondered the events of the day. While I secretly thanked the Lord for Mama's blossoming friendships, I had to wonder about God's timing. Why bring so many friends her way just before we left the island? Seemed . . . cruel. And why bless our shop with so many new customers today just as Babbas made up his mind to leave? We would have some unhappy people when the Closed sign went up in a few weeks.

Mentally exhausted, I climbed the stairs to our little apartment. Today I saw the tiny space through different eyes—the brick walls, the beautiful view of the Strand, the solid architecture. How had I overlooked its old-world charm before? I would miss it once we left.

I didn't appear to be the only one. When I climbed into bed that night, all of my siblings gathered around me as if leaning on me for comfort.

“So we're going back to Santa Cruz?” Darian crossed his arms at his chest and rested against the footboard.

“I don't want to go back.” Gina pulled the covers over her head. I could hear her whimpering underneath. “I have new friends here. I'm going to miss them.”

“You had great friends back in California too.” I did my best to sound encouraging, but I felt my little sister's pain. As much as I'd wanted to go back at first, leaving the island seemed impossible now.

Filip nudged the covers with his arm. “Why didn't you just tell Babbas that earlier when he brought it up, goober? He listens to you.”

Gina stuck her head back out and wiped her eyes. “I was scared. Sometimes he yells.”

“That's the part that stinks most.” Eva rose and walked to the window. “I hate that we're all too scared to tell our own father what we think.”

“I don't think we have to be anymore,” Darian said. “He's . . . changed. A lot. I can see it all over his face.”

“Yeah, he does seem nicer now.” Filip looked from sibling to sibling. “Haven't you noticed?”

I had noticed, actually. In fact, Babbas hadn't yelled once today. Talk about progress.

“It's just so confusing. I'm not sure what to think anymore.” Eva sat in the windowsill and gazed outside. “Even if I could talk to Babbas about what I'm feeling, I don't know what I would say.” A little sigh escaped her. She turned to face us, her eyes shimmering with moisture. “I really hated it here at first. You all know that. But now I'm all mixed up inside. The timing is just . . . weird.”