After she ended the call with Tanya, Christie wandered into the kitchen and opened cabinet doors. She’d planned to stay in, but she really did need to run to the grocery store. That had been on her original “To Do” list for today. Her stomach growled as she stared at the limited contents of her cabinets.

For the past few weeks, she’d paid for the new dress, the new shoes, and the new purse—basically an entirely new outfit from head to toe. So, she hadn’t exactly been buying extras to stock her kitchen. In fact, she’d been eating what she’d already had stored.

Her cabinets now held a variety of spices and sauces, some pasta with nothing to put on it, a box of brown rice, pancake syrup, peanut butter but no bread or crackers, and a yellow cake mix.

She’d had nothing to offer Reed the other night when he’d escorted her home, except coffee. And it didn’t appear she had anything for lunch or for dinner for herself today. Last night she hadn’t been hungry, but she was paying for that now, because the small bowl of cereal she’d just eaten for breakfast wasn’t enough. Despite what she’d told Reed about staying in today, she had to go out to buy food.

Taking out a small notepad, she started jotting down a quick grocery list, thinking of foods her ex-boyfriend used to like. Salsa and chips, frozen pizza, and mixed nuts. All were good to have on hand to offer a hungry man. The next time a man came by to visit, she needed to have something on hand to offer him besides coffee. It had been a year since she’d broke up with Mitch, the last man to sit at her kitchen table until Reed.

She paused, wondering if she was ready to start dating again. The answer to that question didn’t really take much thought. If he was as nice as Reed, she most certainly was.

She wondered if Reed drank alcohol, and if so, what he drank. Her ex drank every night and many nights he drank a lot. That was one major reason Mitch was an ex. Though he’d been gone a year, she still didn’t stock alcohol. It hadn’t been possible to keep drinks in the house when she was with Mitch. He’d finished off everything she’d brought home. Over the last few months, she’d bring a bottle of wine home to enjoy, but that was it. Mitch had changed her. Made her wary of enabling someone prone to addictive behaviors.

But Mitch was long gone. Maybe it was time to let go of her fear. She wanted to be prepared the next time she had male company. It wouldn’t hurt to have a single bottle of wine, if the occasion arose.

Finishing her list, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, slipped her feet into her most comfy tennis shoes, and ran a brush through her hair. Glancing in the mirror, she tried to ignore the dark circles. She needed sleep, but she also needed food, and choosing one meant forgoing the other.

Not until she was behind the wheel of her car, easing into the parking space at the grocery store did her nervousness return. She sat in the car, watching people come and go, trying to get her nerve up again. Everything looked calm.

She opened her door and got out. After, scanning the parking lot again, she headed toward the doors. She found herself glancing at faces, trying to read expressions and intent. She’d never been so aware of her surroundings in her life. In fact, she was hyperaware.

Inside the store, she gathered the things she needed then hurried to check out.

By the time she got home with her purchases and carried them into her house, she was exhausted. Lunch was egg salad on a croissant that she’d picked up at the deli. She opened the plastic box and ate it without really tasting it, while at the same time putting everything away. Then she curled up on the couch beneath the afghan Tanya had made for her. Exhaustion took over, and she fell asleep.

Her cellphone rang, waking her. She reached for it and squinted to read. The house was pitch dark, so it was obviously nighttime, and the only light came from her phone.

Tanya’s name appeared on the screen.

She answered. “Hello?”

“How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess. Went to get groceries, ate lunch, and then fell asleep on the couch.”

“Oh, did I wake you?” Tanya said, her tone filled with regret.

Christie ran a hand over her face and sat up. “Yes,” she said, and then cringed because she’d sounded a little sharp.

“It’s eight o’clock. I wanted to call before you went to sleep and make sure you’re doing okay. Sorry about waking you.”

“It’s all right, Tanya, really. I needed to get up and put my pajamas on and go to sleep in bed, not this old couch.” Christie rolled her neck and then stretched. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything you need?”

“No. I’m all set. I’ve got to get caught up on sleep before I go to work tomorrow morning.”

“Have you talked to Mrs. Brown? I think you ought to take tomorrow off. You’ve been through something traumatic. I know she’d understand.”

“No, I haven’t talked to her. I don’t want to take tomorrow off. There’s no reason to. I’m fine.” She made a face, remembering how nervous she’d been shopping.

“Okay,” Tanya said, sounding doubtful. “Well, call me if you need anything or want to talk.”

“I’m fine Tanya. Quit fussing.” Eager to change the subject, she asked. “How are your fur babies?”

“Well, like I texted you, the vet says they ate begonia plants. It was in the stuff they yakked up.”

“I bet your neighbor’s somehow responsible. She planted begonias last month, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, but her plants always look great. She wouldn’t allow Miss Priss or Brutus in her yard long enough for them to eat them on their own. She hates both of my dogs. Yells at them to get off her lawn the minute one paw touches her precious grass.”

“You need a fence.”

“Yes, I do.” Tanya sighed. “I don’t understand how they ended up eating the plants. They’ve never done anything like that, and for both of them to suddenly start that behavior, it just seems odd.”

“Maybe she poisoned them. Put it in their food.”

“How would she do that? She hasn’t been in my house, and she doesn’t have a key.”

“You think she doesn’t. What if that old lady still has a key from before you bought the house? Then she could sneak in while you were away.”

Tanya gave a little chuckle. “I think your imagination is running away with you. You need to get more sleep.”

“Yeah, I do need sleep. But still, think about it. She could so sneak in, if she had a key from before. Did the vet say what begonias do to them? Is it lethal?”

“It makes them throw up and gives them diarrhea. But it won’t kill them; it just makes them very sick.”

“I’m glad they’ll be okay now. How are they doing tonight?”

“Fine, just clingy. I had to put Brutus in the other room, and he’s in there whining with his bunny rabbit.”

“Poor baby. You know he must still feel bad if he’s whiney and carrying Wabbit.”

Brutus, Tanya’s German Shepard never whined unless he was sick. Then the big strong guard dog was the biggest baby and wanted his Wabbit. Christie loved to go visit and watch Brutus bark at the mailman, and then turn when the man was gone and bring her Wabbit to play with. He could turn off his fierce dog face really quick, and then his tail wagged like a happy puppy. “Maybe I need a dog,” she murmured.

“What brought that on? I agree you should get a dog, and we’ve had that conversation before. More times than I can count. Are you feeling lonely?”

“No, not lonely. I just think having a good guard dog, like Brutus, would be nice.”

“Well, you’ve got to train dogs. Let them know you’re the alpha. Are you ready to be the alpha?”

“I don’t know.” Brutus was a big strong dog. Could she handle a dog that size?

“I’ve pictured you more with a lap dog. You get the cuddling as well as the guarding then.”

She chewed on her lower lip as she thought about that. “Yeah, but if there’s a prowler, a German Shepard would be better protection.”

“True. Look, if you’re serious, I can take you to where I found Brutus. You can talk to breeders about their next litter.”

“Yeah, I might want to do that.”

“All right. You get some sleep, and we’ll talk about it later this week. I’ll call them to see about a visit.”

“Okay. Thanks, Tanya.”

“Night, girlfriend. I’m real glad you’re still here to talk to. You’ll always be my bestie. I love you.”

Christie smiled. “Love you, too.” Tanya was her oldest and best friend. It felt good to be loved and appreciated. She didn’t know what she’d do without Tanya either. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll call you after work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Tanya said.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

They both hung up, and Christie sat for a moment, thinking how lucky she was to have Tanya in her life. Christie had a job she loved, a home that was finally decorated just the way she’d always wanted, and a great best friend. Now, she just needed a companion, someone to cuddle with. A dog would be perfect.

Life was good, and it was good to be alive. But it was awfully quiet here. Tanya was right. Sometimes, she was lonely. Maybe I’ll look at dogs this week. Then I’ll have company and be safer.

Monday morning came like other Monday mornings, yet not. This one came with the happy realization she’d be working with the flowers she loved so much, a thought she had every workday morning. But this time she had a new thought added.

What if some crazy person comes into the florist shop and starts waving a gun around, or worse, started shooting?

This was something she’d never thought of before, and the realization it could happen shook her world.

There was no going back. No way to return to innocence and the days of thinking everyone coming into the store was a nice man or woman. There were crazy bad people in the world and they’d pop up when you least expected it. When you weren’t ready. When you didn’t know what to do.

If there was a fire, she knew what to do. If someone tried to rob them, she knew what to do. She’d hand over the money. But a crazy person, someone who wants was to kill people? Shoot them in cold blood? That she wasn’t prepared for. How do you prepare for that?

She felt different now. Changed. Now, she expected violence. Knew it could happen. No longer, did she live with a naïve mindset that believed nothing like that would ever happen to her. Because now, it had.

She didn’t know what to do with these new thoughts and feelings. The shooting had happened, and now she didn’t know how to be. Her life now fell into a split screen of what had happened before and what had happened after. But the “after” part of her life story wasn’t written yet, and she was standing here on the page, not quite knowing what to do.

At least she’d slept last night, but her sleep had been restless. She knew she’d dreamed but couldn’t remember what the dream was about. Which was likely just as well. She had enough dealing with what was going through her head in her awake moments, without adding in the dreamtime thoughts, too.

Usually on her way to work, she’d turn on the radio and listen to music she liked, and sometimes she even sang along. But today, she didn’t even turn the radio on. She drove in silence until she pulled into her parking place behind the shop, and then sat in the car for a few minutes before turning it off.

Everything was quiet. In the car and outside of the car. It was early. She usually came in an hour before they opened to the public to start working on the arrangements needed for the week’s orders. The silence in the car was a new thing and a needed thing.

Then she opened the door, took her keys out of the car, and walked to the back door. Unlocking it, she cracked the door a bit and peered inside before pushing it open all the way.

All was quiet. She was the only one here. Good.

She pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked into the shop, quickly locking the door behind her.

No one can get in while both doors are locked.

For the first hour, the shop remained quiet as she worked on a silver arrangement with blue and purple flowers for the grand opening of a new hair salon. When that was done, she made three red rose arrangements for wedding anniversaries and one pink rosebud arrangement for a sweet sixteen birthday. The hour went by fast, and she’d just finished the arrangements when Mrs. Brown opened the front door.

“Good morning,” she breezed in past Christie and the beautiful arrangements standing on the long table. “Oh, these are lovely.”

“Thank you,” Christie quietly answered.

Mrs. Brown, always perceptive, slowed down to look at Christie more closely. “Something’s happened.”

“Yes,” Christie replied and looked at Mrs. Brown’s kind and concerned blue eyes. She was like a sweet, caring grandmother, and easy to talk to. Christie’s hands dropped to her sides. “You probably heard the news… That theater shooting? I was there. Inside, watching that movie.”

“Oh, Christie, no!” Mrs. Brown gasped. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re all right.” She reached for Christie’s arm. “Come over here and sit down.” Taking her by the elbow, she moved toward the small table and two chairs in the corner of the room where they took their breaks and meals.

Christie let herself be guided, and once they both sat, she said, “It was pretty frightening.”

“Why yes, that would have been. Terribly frightening. Tell me what happened.”

Christie blew out a deep breath. “We were just sitting there, watching the movie, when this crazy man came in with a gun and started shooting.”

Mrs. Brown nodded. “I saw on the news it had happened, but they didn’t name any of the theater patrons.”

“No, they’ll keep our names private.”

“That’s good. What happened with the Navy SEAL? I heard he saved everyone.”

“He did. He stopped the man, and then he helped the wounded. I helped him.”

“You did?” Mrs. Brown’s eyes widened with surprise.

“I did. Put a tourniquet on and everything.”

Mrs. Brown gave her hand a squeeze. “Oh, Christie, I’m so proud of you. I didn’t know you had any sort of medical training.”

“I don’t, but Reed talked me through it.”

“Reed.” Mrs. Brown smiled. “What a nice name. He sounds like quite the hero. Is he handsome?”

“Oh, very,” Christie said, and felt a blush suffuse her cheeks.

“Built, too, I’ll wager,” Mrs. Brown said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes. Very built.” Christie nodded, remembering the way his muscles flexed when he moved. The power he held in his body.

“Handsome, built, and a hero. A SEAL. Is he married?”

“No. I don’t think so. I didn’t see a ring.”

Her employer held a hand to her heart. “I think this was meant to be. Not just chance that brought you two together.”

Christie shrugged. “Maybe.” Hopefully…

“I also think it’s time you started dating,” the older woman said with a nod.

“Well, he hasn’t asked me. And I may never see him again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. When it’s fated for two to meet, there is always a way.”

Tuesday went quietly, much like Monday, but on Wednesday, the bell over the door of the shop jingled, and Christine looked up from the flowers she was watering to see Reed entering the shop.

“Hello,” she said, her heart skittering faster.

“Hello, Christie,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Been working with my flowers.” She beamed at him. “I’m glad you found the shop. Are you here to place an order or pick up a bouquet? We have some lovely ones today.”

“Actually…” He stepped closer until he was standing near enough to touch, his gaze never leaving hers. “I came in looking for you.”

Christie blushed and dipped her head, feeling the heat rise in her neck and cheeks. “You did?”

“I did. I thought I’d invite you to the range for date night, if you’re interested.”

He’d come in looking for her to ask her out? She wanted to pinch herself.

Wait. Date night. Range?

She squeaked out the last word, before realizing she’d spoken out loud.

“Yes, the gun range. They have a couples’ date night. We’d be able to shoot and have dinner there. Saturday night, if you’d like to go.”

The concept was boggling her mind. People do this? This is a date thing?

“This Saturday. If you’re free.”

Oh, he kept talking because she hadn’t answered him. He was waiting for an answer, and her mind was in a spin. “I-I’ve never been to a gun range. I don’t know anything about guns.”

“That part’s easy. I’ll teach you.”

“Teach me to shoot guns?” Her voice was doing that squeaking thing again. Oh, why couldn’t she answer him normally without sounding like a mouse?

His lips twitched. “Yes, teach you to shoot guns. You can learn to shoot handguns or long guns, if you like rifles better. Anything you want to start with.”

“Oh. Wow.” Her eyes wide, she tried to wrap her head around the idea of this handsome Navy SEAL teaching her how to shoot guns. Images of old western movies where the hero taught the heroine how to shoot guns flooded into her head. The hero would put his arms around the heroine to show her how to shoot, and he’d be so close. Reed would be so close.

Longing wrestled with fear, her long-standing fear of guns. She stood silent while they wrestled.