Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“That’s good,” I answered, keeping a straight face. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in here. Did Mrs. Robbins enjoy those Peruvian lilies you got her last time?”
Mr. Robbins shrugged. “She seemed happy enough with them. A bit too exotic for my taste, though.”
I turned away for a moment and cleared my throat to cover up the tiny laugh that had been trying to break free. I’d just received what I’d classify as glowing praise from the old man, but—in true Edmond Robbins fashion—he hadn’t been able to let a hint of a compliment go unchecked.
Still, if his wife had liked the flowers, which was all that mattered… and I knew that if she hadn’t liked them, I would’ve heard about it long before now.
“Mhm,” I said, reaching out to straighten a rose that had gone askew under Mr. Robbins’ handsy inspection. “I remember you said that at the time. But I’m glad she ended up liking them. So… what brings you in today? I’ve just got some carnations that I think would make a nice bouquet. I can show you if you’d like….”
The older man shook his head. “Maybe later, Joanne. The fact is, I just came in because….” Mr. Robbins looked away for a minute, and when his gaze met mine again, his eyes were suspiciously bright with emotion. “Well, because I was thinking about Henry, if you want to know the truth.”
My expression softened as I reached out to gently squeeze the old man’s shoulder in a move that the older man probably would’ve found a little too friendly and informal under different circumstances. These weren’t normal circumstances, though; it was the closest thing to a hug I was willing to risk.
“I feel like Henry’s presence is still here in the shop,” I said. “And I know he would’ve been glad you stopped by to visit.”
“He was a good man,” Mr. Robbins said, nodding briskly and regaining some of his composure. “I was afraid it would feel… different, now that he’s gone. But it doesn’t, does it? It really does feel like he’s still here. I’m glad you’re keeping his memory alive, young lady.”
It was the nicest thing Mr. Robbins—or anyone else, for that matter—had ever said to me. It was my turn to blink hard as I tried to hold back the tears suddenly welling up in my eyes.
For a man that made a hobby out of being gruff and disagreeable, Mr. Robbins had hit me right in the heart with his unexpectedly thoughtful words.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I couldn’t let such a heartfelt gesture go unanswered.
“Thank you,” I said, finally. “That means a lot to me, and I know it would’ve meant a lot to Henry, too. Please do come by and visit as often as you’d like. I won’t even try to sell you any more Peruvian lilies.”
Mr. Robbins laughed, a short, dry sound that seemed almost as out of place as his earlier sentiments had been.
God, I was bringing out all the emotions in the normally reticent old man today.
“Maybe those lilies weren’t so bad,” Mr. Robbins said grudgingly. “And I may come back later to look at those carnations. I’ve got some other things I need to take care of in town first, though.”
Without another word, he turned and made his way to the door, only pausing for a moment to nod his head when I called out to say goodbye.
Chapter Five - Joanne
I couldn’t help but chuckle as Mr. Robbins disappeared out the door. Getting a compliment from him was a fantastic and completely unexpected way to start my morning. Computer malfunction notwithstanding, I hoped it was a good omen for the rest of the day.
But it was proof that Henry’s beliefs about customer service had been spot-on. He’d always told me to treat everyone who walked through the door like they were family—like there was nobody else in the world I’d rather be talking to.
Henry had always said it was a way to honor his late wife’s memory with more than just the shop’s name. According to him, it was the way Patty had always treated people and how she would have done things.
He’d built his shop and customer base around his what-would-Patty-do philosophy and had paid more than just lip service to the idea that the customers’ special occasions were special to him, too.
The people of this town had loved him for it.
As far as I was concerned, Henry’s big-hearted approach to business was why Patty’s Petals hadn’t been affected by any of the uncertain economic times of the previous decade and why the church had been filled beyond capacity for Henry’s funeral the month before.
It was also why people like Mr. Robbins and Mrs. Linley remained loyal customers, even though Henry was no longer here.