Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Bess inspected it, turning it this way and that, and then set it down. She bent and gathered some faux greenery in a cabinet near the register. After arranging the greenery inside, she replaced the dome and then stood back and looked at it, her face blooming into a smile. “It’s perfect.”
“It is.” Each one would include a small potted flower—a paperwhite or an orchid, or maybe some thistle—with added greenery and several clipped branches. Staff would personally collect the butterfly eggs and transfer them to the flowers in the kit, and each would contain an instruction tag on how to care for it as it transformed into a caterpillar and then emerged a butterfly meant to be set free and beautify the world.
“I’ll let the company know it’s a go,” Cami said. “Three hundred units to start, and then we’ll see what’s what.”
Bess nodded excitedly. “They’re the prettiest ones on the market.”
“And the priciest,” Cami said.
“I know. But that’s why they’ll make great gifts. We should start thinking about add-ons. Maybe jewelry charms or stationery . . . I’ll fill it tomorrow and start taking photos for our website.”
“Perfect,” Cami said. Her butterfly farm, Flutterfly Gardens, was an all-hands-on-deck operation, and Bess, who worked the register of the gift shop, also managed the website and did most of the photography for both online and print advertisement. And designed new products, which Cami wasn’t so sure would be a good investment, but with the “you have to spend money to make money” idea in mind, she was willing to give it a go.
Cami had opened the butterfly farm, sanctuary, and gift shop in honor of her mother and sister seven years before, and though it barely made a profit, it was in the black, and more importantly, Cami woke up every day looking forward to her life.
She’d surrounded herself with beauty and serenity and felt purposeful in her work. Flutterfly provided live butterflies for zoos, botanical gardens, classrooms, and the like, and they also offered local butterflies for release at special events. That was one of her personal favorites.
Several years before, they’d begun building an exhibit for visitors to wander through, and it was set to be completed by the end of the year. She’d love to add to it eventually and possibly rent out hidden corners after-hours for private dinners where proposals might happen under twinkle lights while her butterflies added to the whimsical ambience. Ideas were constantly fueling her creativity, even if the funds didn’t exactly keep pace. Still, to have something joyful and inspiring on which to set her mind was a blessing to her.
“Marta’s coming to take over in here in ten,” Bess told her when Cami had returned from the stockroom, where she’d left the sample for Bess to work her magic on. “You’re still coming with me to collect those plants, right?”
“Plants?”
“You know, the ones listed on Marketplace?”
“Oh, the garden estate sale?” Bess had mentioned something on the phone the day before, but Cami had been distracted by her GPS while making a delivery and had only half listened.
“Yes, brilliant, right?” Bess said. “I don’t think anything from inside the house is listed. But apparently the garden is overrun, and rather than digging all the established plants and flowering bushes up and tossing them in a landfill, the owner offered them for free to anyone willing to come dig them up. The pictures are insane. There are hollyhocks galore. We could add them on the south end of the exhibit, as it’s practically empty there. I think I saw some butterfly bushes and plenty of aster and phlox too.”
The free part sounded amazing, and she was glad Bess regularly trolled Facebook Marketplace and had caught the listing before someone else. “Who’s going?”
“So far, just me and Quincy. Everyone else is tied up. We could use some help,” Bess said as she formed her hands in prayer.
The everyone else was only five employees, but Cami didn’t currently have anything on the agenda, and so she smiled and nodded at Bess. “I can come along for an extra pair of hands.”
“Really? Awesome. The owner said he wouldn’t be there but is leaving the side gate open.”
“Okay. Just give me ten, and I’ll be ready.”
She’d almost laughed out loud when she first saw the garden. Cami, Bess, and Quincy had walked through the side gate to see that the entirety of the yard was filled with wildflowers of every sort and color. It was completely untamed and overly filled. It was both delirious and charming and felt fairy tale–esque in a way she couldn’t quite describe. The Mad Hatter’s garden. The place of Tinkerbell’s birth. “My gosh,” she’d breathed. “This is . . .”
“Unhinged?” Quincy suggested.
“Unruly,” she said with a smile. “But beautiful.”
She ran her hand over a hydrangea that was as high as her shoulders, its ball-like flowers the size of a toddler’s head. There were hollyhocks that must have been six feet tall, and delphinium and meadow rue that reached for the sky. She could smell the lavender and roses from where she stood, an intoxicating mix that was both heady and calming. “The owner is giving this away for free? All of it?”