Faults
Lies to avoid conflict
Lies to get what she wants
Lies to sound more interesting
Lies for lack of sense of self
Doesn't know left from right
Grace slowly turned the vase to check for holes in the bouquet. Baby's Breath rose through the daisies like the constant fog that seeped into the cracks in the walls of the old town. It was all old here.
"I hate doing these big pompom bouquets. They are so entirely over the top and mediocre."
"Why do you offer them?" Diana asked from the other side of the counter, her chin resting in her palms and her eyes resting on Grace's fingers delicately repositioning the greenery.
"They are what the people want. I keep thinking that if I'm forced to take over the shop I'll turn it into Ikebana-only and just run the damn thing into the group with good taste."
"What do you mean, 'forced to take it over?' You're moving to Boston in the fall, aren't you?"
Grace saw a faint panic in Diana's eyes and stopped futzing with the leaves to look at her with an expression of solidarity and self-pity.
"Babe. You know how badly I want to get out of Rockhill. And you know that I want to live closer to you. I love you. I will be in Boston in the fall. I just haven't told my mom yet. It'll break her heart, and I just don't have it in me to deal with the right now."
"Grace, you're going to have to tell her. If you give her enough time you can help her find someone else to run the shop."
The annoyance in Diana's voice terrified Grace and catalyzed a defensiveness she didn't know how to stop.
"It's been a family-run business since 1919, Diana. I can't just - we can't just hire a stranger to take over. It's basically the last independent store in Rockhill that isn't selling charcoal lattes to weekenders."
"Well then maybe you should stay here and we can keep on only seeing each other on weekends after I get my latte to go," Diana's anger didn't break down Grace's defenses as much as it overflowed and overwhelmed them. She felt the urgent need to retrace her steps and start from the beginning of the maze.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed about it. Listen, I'm having dinner with my mom tonight. I'll bring it up to her then. Maybe not super directly, but I'll talk to her about me moving."
Diana smiled as she said, "Thanks, Grace," and tried to hide her skeptism.
***
Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the island as she watched her mother stir the pasta.
"I'm thinking we could do a rebranding of the shop," her mother chirpped as she lifted a noodle from the water, "Nothing dramatic, just a new logo and lighting, something more modern to fit in with the other storefronts opening up on Main. What do you think?"
"Mom, I think it's great as is. It's small town charming. Our customers trust us because they know nothing is changing."
"Yes, but things are changing. Soon the people buying the flowers will be the ones receiving the flowers in their hospital rooms, and we should cater to the young people who are moving in," she turned and pointed her wooden spoon at Grace's face, pasta water dripping on the tile, " I know for a fact you don't like what we display in the window. Why would other people your age?"
"The people my age who are moving here don't have the same tastes as me, Mom. They are probably thrilled by cotton candy bouquets."
"What does Diana say? She certainly has modern tastes. Where will she buy you flowers when she moves to Rockhill?"
Grace felt her heart heat up, "You know how bakers don't eat cake? Diana knows not to buy me flowers. Besides, I don't know if she'll end up moving here."
"Oh, honey," she poured the pasta into a strainer in the sink and turned again to look at Grace, "is everything ok between you two? You said you talked about moving in together only a couple weeks ago."
"Yes, no, everything is fine. It's just that we've been talking about it maybe making more sense for me to move to Boston in the fall instead of her moving here. You know, it would be easier for me to find a job than for her to telecommute."
Her mother's mouth contracted into a rose bud and bloomed into the words Grace dreaded to hear, "Grace, I'm counting on you to take over the shop. We are all counting on you."
"I know, mom. It's just something we were throwing around. I'm not.... It's all just ideas. I'll start thinking about logo design. Dana from high school – remember her? – she's a graphic designer. I'll see if we can grab coffee at one of those new places on Main. It's just... It'll work out."
Her mother tossed the pasta in the sauce and served her family.
Lies to avoid conflict
Lies to get what she wants
Lies to sound more interesting
Lies for lack of sense of self
Doesn't know left from right
Grace slowly turned the vase to check for holes in the bouquet. Baby's Breath rose through the daisies like the constant fog that seeped into the cracks in the walls of the old town. It was all old here.
"I hate doing these big pompom bouquets. They are so entirely over the top and mediocre."
"Why do you offer them?" Diana asked from the other side of the counter, her chin resting in her palms and her eyes resting on Grace's fingers delicately repositioning the greenery.
"They are what the people want. I keep thinking that if I'm forced to take over the shop I'll turn it into Ikebana-only and just run the damn thing into the group with good taste."
"What do you mean, 'forced to take it over?' You're moving to Boston in the fall, aren't you?"
Grace saw a faint panic in Diana's eyes and stopped futzing with the leaves to look at her with an expression of solidarity and self-pity.
"Babe. You know how badly I want to get out of Rockhill. And you know that I want to live closer to you. I love you. I will be in Boston in the fall. I just haven't told my mom yet. It'll break her heart, and I just don't have it in me to deal with the right now."
"Grace, you're going to have to tell her. If you give her enough time you can help her find someone else to run the shop."
The annoyance in Diana's voice terrified Grace and catalyzed a defensiveness she didn't know how to stop.
"It's been a family-run business since 1919, Diana. I can't just - we can't just hire a stranger to take over. It's basically the last independent store in Rockhill that isn't selling charcoal lattes to weekenders."
"Well then maybe you should stay here and we can keep on only seeing each other on weekends after I get my latte to go," Diana's anger didn't break down Grace's defenses as much as it overflowed and overwhelmed them. She felt the urgent need to retrace her steps and start from the beginning of the maze.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed about it. Listen, I'm having dinner with my mom tonight. I'll bring it up to her then. Maybe not super directly, but I'll talk to her about me moving."
Diana smiled as she said, "Thanks, Grace," and tried to hide her skeptism.
***
Grace shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the island as she watched her mother stir the pasta.
"I'm thinking we could do a rebranding of the shop," her mother chirpped as she lifted a noodle from the water, "Nothing dramatic, just a new logo and lighting, something more modern to fit in with the other storefronts opening up on Main. What do you think?"
"Mom, I think it's great as is. It's small town charming. Our customers trust us because they know nothing is changing."
"Yes, but things are changing. Soon the people buying the flowers will be the ones receiving the flowers in their hospital rooms, and we should cater to the young people who are moving in," she turned and pointed her wooden spoon at Grace's face, pasta water dripping on the tile, " I know for a fact you don't like what we display in the window. Why would other people your age?"
"The people my age who are moving here don't have the same tastes as me, Mom. They are probably thrilled by cotton candy bouquets."
"What does Diana say? She certainly has modern tastes. Where will she buy you flowers when she moves to Rockhill?"
Grace felt her heart heat up, "You know how bakers don't eat cake? Diana knows not to buy me flowers. Besides, I don't know if she'll end up moving here."
"Oh, honey," she poured the pasta into a strainer in the sink and turned again to look at Grace, "is everything ok between you two? You said you talked about moving in together only a couple weeks ago."
"Yes, no, everything is fine. It's just that we've been talking about it maybe making more sense for me to move to Boston in the fall instead of her moving here. You know, it would be easier for me to find a job than for her to telecommute."
Her mother's mouth contracted into a rose bud and bloomed into the words Grace dreaded to hear, "Grace, I'm counting on you to take over the shop. We are all counting on you."
"I know, mom. It's just something we were throwing around. I'm not.... It's all just ideas. I'll start thinking about logo design. Dana from high school – remember her? – she's a graphic designer. I'll see if we can grab coffee at one of those new places on Main. It's just... It'll work out."
Her mother tossed the pasta in the sauce and served her family.
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