Since Forever

Chapter 9

The overwhelming mash up of floral scents consumes me. The hints of eucalyptus and rose petals with the sweetest hint of lavender spins its intoxicating aroma through my senses, swallowing me whole as I place the perfect amount of yellow sunflowers into a bouquet.

"Oh, sweet girl, that is just gorgeous," Mrs. O'Brien gushes, bringing her hands to her chest as she smiles at the arrangement I've thrown together. She's one of the shop's most frequent customers. Whether she's getting a new arrangement for her entry way or gifting a loved one an array of flowers, she's always here.

"Thank you," I acknowledge her compliment. "Do you want me to attach a ribbon or would you like it wrapped?"

Her smile brightens, that watery glisten across her eyes bringing a little shed of light to my heart. "A ribbon would be just wonderful."

I reach for the different shades of pinks, grabbing three of them and holding them up for her to see. Her granddaughter has her first dance recital today and I just so happen to know her favorite color is pink.

"Oh, yes. Addison will be so happy. You know, I've been coming here for years. Your mother was always so kind to me. She had such a grace about the way she wove these flowers together. I think you should know she'd be so proud to know you share that same gift."

I don't know why there's an empty ache behind those words. They're meant to fill me with reassurance and pride, and yet every time I'm reminded of how much I'd make my mom proud, I'm just left feeling hollow.

"Thank you," I say, offering the words everyone wants to hear when they think they've offered you a gift.

Maybe I should be thankful that I share something with my mom, that I can continue to live a dream she never had the chance to fully see through. But somehow, thankful isn't the feeling that's coursing through me, no matter how much I know that's the intent of her comment. Instead, there's a void of something I ache to know, something I wish to look up to instead of miss.

My eyes fall to the piano, the remnant sounds of a memory floating around me. What I would give to hear her play again, to watch her smile light up the whole entire room when she sang along with whatever tune she felt in the moment. I wish I would have held on better, I wish I could still feel the way she brought a room joy.

"Do you play too?"

I jump at her question, pulling my eyes from the distant memory to focus back on Mrs. O'Brien.

"Huh?" I question.

"The piano. I used to come here some days just to listen to her play."

"No," I answer, cutting her off and watching as her expression shifts. "I don't play. Here are your flowers."

Her smile softens as she reaches out a slow, shaky hand. "Thank you, sweetheart. I'll see you next week."

I watch as she leaves, my eyes drifting to the tiny flower shop. There's so much of her still here, so much of my mom. From the tiny painted daisies along the center column to the pops of green and beige mixed along the frame of the window. She picked out every single thing in this shop. A fact that's harder to witness some days than others.

"Hey, Piper?" I yell toward the back. Her bright red curls come bouncing into view. "I'm going to take off."

I don't stick around to see the look on her face, the one that challenges the shield I've worked so damn hard to nail into place. Instead, I take off past the piano, afraid to give it another glance as I push through the front door.

My eyes meet the pavement in front of me, the faded blue of my Converse catching my attention. I didn't plan to run today. I didn't plan to need an escape but the way my breaths are tethered to my ribcage has me wanting nothing more than to fly down these streets and let every piece of frantic emotion shed off of me in heavy layers.