“You just need to clip all these stems down to about here,” Mrs. Donavan explained as she used her calloused hands to push her thick glasses back into position. Her curly white hair rose from her head like springs and bounced as she moved around the tiny shop from flower to flower. “After that you can cut these ribbons in one foot lengths. Can you handle that?”

“Yes ma’am,” Elaine nodded, ignoring her instinct to explain how painfully over qualified she was for this job. She’d spent the last ten years positioning herself as a key player, trading on the New York Stock Exchange. She’d clawed her way through every barrier and made a name for herself. Surely cutting the stems off some lilies was manageable. “I just want to let you know again how grateful I am that you hired me on such short notice.”

“Any friend of Davis is a friend of mine,” Mrs. Donavan said, smiling warmly at Elaine. “That boy has been good to me over the years. How exactly is it you know him again?”

“He helped me out when I found myself in a tough spot,” Elaine explained, not wanting to lie to the kind woman.

“And is there anything special between you two?” Mrs. Donavan asked, her smile spreading wide and her watery gray blue eyes glimmering with excitement. “He can’t possible continue the lifestyle he has.”

“What lifestyle is that?” Elaine asked, measuring with impeccable precision as she cut the stems. If you were going to do something, it was best to do it perfectly.

“Oh he’s been punishing himself for over four years. It’s pathetic. When he walked in here with you I thought, finally he’s moving on. Was I wrong?”

“Sorry to say I’m not his love interest,” Elaine apologized, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “We’ve done more yelling at each other since we’ve met than anything else. He’s just a good guy helping out. What exactly is he punishing himself for?”

“Don’t you know?” Mrs. Donavan asked, arranging and rearranging a few vases and eyeing Elaine skeptically. “Surely someone told you.”

“No,” Elaine said, shaking her head and snipping the last few lilies. “I tried not to pry.”

“I’m not gonna spill his secrets all over these flowers,” Mrs. Donavan said, feigning righteous indignation. “But I will tell you it’s far past time for him to move on. That girl was not his responsibility. Her mistakes. Her choices. That boy has just been beating himself up all this time. It’s high time he let all that go.”

“Seems like an interesting story,” Elaine said, trying to imagine what kind of situation Davis and his big heart might have gotten into years ago.

“He had a high school sweetheart,” Mrs. Donavan explained in a whisper as though the volume made it less scandalous. “Julie Brown-Styles.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Prom queen to his prom king. Cheerleader to his star quarterback. We all thought they’d be married and having kids in no time.”

“Sounds like they were meant to be,” Elaine commented, surprised to hear that aloof Davis was ever the center of attention. She couldn’t picture him dancing in some school gymnasium with a plastic crown on his head, reigning over prom.

“On paper,” Mrs. Donavan agreed. “But she had her sights set on California for years. Somewhere along the way she decided she was going to be an actress. They were together a couple years after high school, and then she acted like this town and his love was suffocating her. It was supposed to only be a year out there. But she came back with a piercing in her nose, a stranger on her arm, and a penchant for alcoholic beverages. It broke him. Not only because he thought they had a future, but because he also saw how she’d changed. She was the shell of the woman she once was. That place wrecked her, and he felt like it was his fault for not giving her more reasons to stay in Indigo Bay. He was sure if he’d have loved her harder or begged her more he could have kept her safe. But you and I, and everyone else in this town, knows you can’t tie a donkey to a tree and think he’s gonna be happy forever.”

“Right,” Elaine said tentatively as she tried to process the metaphor. “You can’t love someone into doing what’s best for them. If you could there’d be a lot less trouble in the world.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Mrs. Donavan remarked, patting her shoulder as if they’d been friends for years. “The problem was every once in a while when she was down on her luck she’d come back a mess, and he’d clean her up while she strung him along. Then like always, she’d leave again.”

Elaine arranged the flowers and nodded intently. “She sounds like a real heartbreaker. Should I be on the lookout for her pulling in? Let me guess, she drives a little red corvette?”

“Close,” Mrs. Donavan replied solemnly, and Elaine realized instantly she’d made a mistake. “It was a cherry red convertible she drove off the side of a cliff in California. No one knows for sure if it was an accident or if she was just giving up. I suspect too many drinks that night. She and Davis had just had one of their epic breakups. Right in the middle of town square he told her to go and never come back. He was finally done with her.”

“Ouch,” Elaine said, knowing she sounded like an idiot, but at a loss for more poetic words. “That’s so sad. No wonder he hasn’t dated anyone since.”

“It was a waste of a good man and just one more way she ruined him even after she was gone.” She did the sign of the cross and whispered a quick prayer. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but he’s better off without her. I just hope he can bounce back one of these days. A nice girl needs to come along and snap him out of it.” A silence fell between them until Mrs. Donavan began to hum and throw her sideways glances.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Elaine said, quickly dropping the flowers out of her hands. “I’m the absolute worst thing that could happen to him right now. Like I said when you hired me, I’m only here for a month. I’d be just another woman running out of his life.”

“But you think he’s attractive?” Mrs. Donavan asked, humming while she waited for an answer.

“He’s not my type,” Elaine dodged, but she had a feeling Mrs. Donavan was skilled in this particular type of interrogation. The kind that got to the bottom of people’s feelings. “He’s a little rugged for me. I’m from New York. I tend to date business professionals.”

“Davis is no slouch. He owns his own repair business, and you didn’t answer my question. Don’t you find him attractive?”

“I do,” Elaine answered, her cheeks flushing pink as the words spilled out. “But I am honestly only staying here a month at most. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“I’m not suggesting you get married,” Mrs. Donavan explained, circling around the wide table to grab some roses. “I’m just saying maybe you could help blow the stink off him. Don’t you think?”

“I’m not familiar enough with that expression to agree.” Elaine laughed, shaking her head at the turn this conversation had taken. “But please don’t explain it to me.” They both broke into a laugh as they began arranging the flowers.

“There’s a certain way to make sure your bouquets come out just right,” Mrs. Donavan explained, the skin around her eyes wrinkled as she scrutinized the first arrangement. “People always think it has to be balanced. Equal amounts of every flower, nothing out of place. But that’s not true. A good bouquet is beautiful when you take risks. You can’t always be looking for symmetry and perfection. Sometimes you just have to toss in what feels right and trust your heart.”

“Are we still talking about roses?” Elaine asked, with a devilish grin.

“Just clip those stems, girl,” Mrs. Donavan sighed, winking as she headed to the back room. “Take some risks.”