Elly bit her lip. “Where have you been sleeping?”

  Dennis’s face blushed bright red and he looked at the wall, totally avoiding her and Keith’s eyes. “Uh, yeah … so, I kind of found my way over to Washington University and have been hanging around with the students there. A nice guy let me sleep on the futon in the dorm lounge, but that was only for one night. I came back the next night to try and find Elly, but you were gone. I left my backpack behind.” He grimaced. “I don’t like dogs. And there was a big one behind the door trying to get at me, so I panicked.”

  “And the other nights?”

  Dennis wrung his hands. “You know Concordia Park, by the seminary there?”

  “You slept in a park?”

  Dennis shrugged. “It’s nice weather. Not too cold. I hid under a bench. No one saw me.”

  Elly looked over at Keith, exasperated. “Keith.”

  He held his hand up. “I know, I know. Dennis, would you mind if I talked to Elly alone for a few minutes? Why don’t you go wash up in the sink in the back?”

  Dennis nodded and flung himself out of the chair, groaning loudly. “I think you broke my arm.”

  Keith rolled his eyes. “I definitely did not.”

  Dennis tripped over an overturned bucket as he headed to the back. Elly eyed Keith’s bruised hand. “You should ice that.”

  Keith shrugged. “Are you okay? How is your face?”

  Elly raised her hands to her cut cheeks. They stung a little. She looked with dismay at her glassware shelf, now sitting crooked on the ground, surrounded by a hundred shattered and broken vases. “I suck,” she stated. “I totally panicked.”

  Keith shook his head. “No. You were alone. It was very suspicious. I don’t think you overreacted at all.” He traced his finger down her cheek. “And your face?”

  Elly shook her head. “I’m not worried about that.” She rubbed her hands through her hair, totally bewildered. “What are we going to do? He cannot sleep under a bench again. You heard him, he’s all alone….”

  “And playing to your sympathies.” Keith rubbed his sore hand. “I don’t think he’s on drugs or dangerous, but he also doesn’t seem exactly emotionally stable. I mean, you heard him, after what he’s been through … do you believe everything he says?” Keith hushed his voice to a whisper. “I’m just going to put this out there—he seems very naïve. Is it possible that he might have made this whole thing up as some sort of escape from his terrible reality?”

  Elly turned to Keith as tears threatened to brim over her eyes. “I don’t know.” I can’t even think about it yet. She could barely think with the adrenaline that was pulsing madly through her veins, the hammering of her heart, and the pounding of her head. Elly couldn’t calm down to think clearly, not yet. “What should we do now?” she asked.

  “Well, I still think he has a lot of explaining to do. And I’m still of a mind to call the police.” He stood and wrapped his arms around Elly. “I can’t explain what it felt like when I heard you call my name and then just heard glass breaking. I’ve never known fear like that. Or strength, for that matter. I threw him over the desk—did you see it?” He whispered in her ear. “That must have been pretty impressive. There is still some strength in this old bull.”

  Elly nodded. “You were very impressive,” she agreed. “My knight in shining armor.”

  Keith puffed up his chest. “I played high school football. I know a thing or two.”

  “You do.”

  Keith raised his hand and felt Elly’s forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want to go lie down upstairs and let me talk to him here? You did faint, you know.”

  Elly shook her head. “It happens all the time. I recover quickly. Thanks for catching me.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “No really, I was already holding you.”

  Elly felt a flash of panic. Did he think I was heavy? She thought. Did he wonder, “Why am I dating a small orca?”

  Keith smiled down at her. “I pray you never get mugged. I hope this doesn’t hurt your feelings, but you did more damage to yourself than he did.”

  “Thanks.” Elly said to Keith, noticing Dennis standing at the doorway, wiping blood and snot off his nose with a wet paper towel. He was exhausted, Elly noticed. Exhausted and hungry. The poor kid. As she watched him lean against the wall, looking so entirely defeated, Elly was aware that her life was about to change. Her desk clock slowly clicked away the minutes, and with each second, Elly was aware that nothing would ever be the same, now that she had seen his face. Elly noticed that Dennis’s hands were shaking as he wiped his face, and she suddenly had the urge to clasp them into her own in a wave of compassion.

  Keith stared down at him suspiciously. “Come sit down.”

  Dennis mumbled something to himself, something that ended with “douchebag” and plopped into the chair, his arms folded defensively in front of him.

  Keith looked over at Elly and motioned to the phone. Elly shook her head no. Keith turned back to Dennis. “Here’s what we are going to do. We’ve all had a very stressful night and need some time to calm down and take it all in. I’m going to take you over to my deli—I work a few doors down—and get you a solid meal. Then we’ll drive over to the Holiday Inn Express and get you a room booked for the week.”

  Dennis looked up at him. “I told you man, I have no money.”

  Keith gave him a hard pat. “I figured that. It’s my treat.”

  Elly looked up at Keith. “You don’t have to do that. Keith, this is my problem.” Elly realized how bad that sounded and looked sheepishly at Dennis. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not a problem.”

  Dennis flipped the hair out of his eyes like he didn’t care, but Elly could feel waves of sadness wafting off him. She turned back to Keith. “I will pay for the hotel.”

  Keith shrugged. “Whatever you think. You’ve had a hard day—the interview, this … just, it’s really okay.”

  The interview. Elly had totally forgotten about it. Suddenly, it didn’t really matter. “Does that sound okay to you … Dennis?” The word felt odd and heavy on her tongue. Dennis. Huh.

  He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Sure. Whatever. Can I eat now?”

  Elly tried to smile, but instead found herself close to tears at the despair she felt for him. She clutched the end of the table as a second round of dizziness rushed toward her. “Why don’t I come by the hotel tomorrow and we can talk?”

  “Whatever. Can I get my backpack?”

  Elly picked it off the ground and handed it to him. “Here.”

  Keith walked a hunched-over Dennis to the door. “I’ll be back,” he said to Elly. She nodded silently. “Let’s get you a sandwich,” he said to Dennis.

  Dennis peered up at him, his long blond hair hiding his eyes. “Don’t try to be my friend. You punched me in the face. You’re lucky I was taken by surprise, or else I would have schooled your ass.”

  Keith bit his lip and nodded. “I’m sure you would have.”

  Dennis suddenly turned back to Elly and walked quickly toward her. Her pulse quickened—he still made her nervous. “Here.” He pressed a crumpled piece of paper into her hand. “Now you can hold onto it. I’m done with it.” He hobbled out the door, his long shoelaces dragging behind him.

  The door slammed shut, bells rang out loudly. It occurred to Elly that she had heard those bells clank only an hour ago, when Dennis entered the store, and now her life had completely changed. Elly gently placed the note on the consultation table and walked over to the cooler. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She needed to call Kim, she needed to drink a very large glass of wine, and she needed to think, really think about what had just happened, but right now, she needed to design. The need rose up inside of her, the process that brought her such inner peace.

  Elly started with dark-purple sweet peas, their fluttery, tiny wings the first to get thrown into the empty mason jar, followed by bright-green spider mums, pl
um drumstick alliums (which smelled a bit like onions, Elly noted with a wrinkle of her nose), and lush white garden roses, their creamy petals blown shamelessly open to show yellow seeds. She filled the vase until a gorgeous, rich arrangement poured over its side. She placed it in the center of the table, and sat down on the chair, which gave a loud creak. Great, she thought, now I have a homeless half brother and I need new chairs. The thought was so ridiculous it made her laugh and then want to weep uncontrollably. Tears welled in her eyes as Elly unfolded the note. It was on pale-lavender paper and crumpled badly, making the words hard to read. Even then, her mother’s flowing handwriting was unmistakable, a relic from her past. You, Barry Tragar, have a daughter. Her name is Elly Iris Jordan and she is the light of my life. Elly touched the paper softly, missing her mother desperately. Why wasn’t she here, now when I have so, so many questions? Did she know I had a half brother? Did she know that my father treated Dennis terribly?

  Why didn’t she tell me if she did?

  What would she tell me to do?

  Elly read the paper again, thrilled to be drinking in this leftover trinket of her mother’s love. Unheard words from her mother about Elly; this was an absolute gift, a whisper of love from the past. I cannot tear myself away from her, not even for a minute, or fathom how this tiny angel came into my care. Elly is the love of my life, and words can never express how happy she has made me. Elly felt a large tear roll down her cheek as she struggled to remember what her mother had said about her father. “The best worst night of my life” was the only line she could remember her ever saying about him, and there was something about her not knowing he was married. Married to Dennis’s mother then? Or someone else? Elly gave a loud sniff and watched as dusk settled in outside the store windows. It was late April, and the spring was creeping up on all sides. Practically glowing yellow, a goldfinch fluttered happily in the bushes outside her store, feasting upon invisible bugs. Elly rested her hand against her cheek, tears pooling and spilling with joy and panic in equal measure. Oh God, what do I do with this? What now? I have a brother, and he obviously needs help. A brother. I am a sister. Elly reveled at the sound of this. I am a sister. She had always been an only child, beloved and a quite honestly, a bit spoiled. Now she could be a sister, a big sister! She could take Dennis to Ted Drewes ice cream, to the St. Louis Zoo, and they could spend hours talking on the phone. Maybe she could plan his wedding. She smiled through her tears. Okay, she was getting ahead of herself. First, she needed to close the store. She needed to call Kim. After one last glance at the note sent her back into a flurry of tears—I will find a way to provide for our daughter and give her the beautiful life she deserves—Elly finally folded it into her pocket and went about closing the store, locking the doors, sweeping up the remaining pink petals on the floor. Was it today that she had rolled in them with Keith? That seemed a lifetime ago. She emptied the reeking garbage and switched her little retro sign over to CLOSED. Later, she would remember doing none of it, so great was the shock to her system. Emotionally spent, she climbed the stairs to the apartment. She glanced at her cell phone, wondering if she should touch base with Keith, but figured it would probably be best just to wait to hear how the check-in at the hotel went. So she called Kim instead. An hour and many tears (his mother dead in a car accident, his alcoholic Dad abusive and neglectful, what kind of life has he had?) and a few laughs (Aaron and Lucia are miserable … bwaaahh!), she hung up the phone with Kim. A voicemail was waiting, and she eagerly punched in her code, expecting to hear from Keith. Instead, the shrill, barking voice of Gemma Reynolds pierced the air.

  “Hello, Elly Jordan, Gemma Reynolds here, I’m the producer from BlissBride. I’m sure you remember me.” Of course I do, you daft wit, thought Elly. Then she frowned. Was that a British thing? A daft wit? She thought so. Elly generally prided herself on being very worldly. “Well, we met with the other two florists today, and even though I preferred both of them, my executive producer, Mr. Jackson, insisted that I show the pictures of your work to the client first.” There was a long pause and Gemma sounded equal parts pissed and incredulous. “I’m surprised to tell you that our celebrity has chosen you to be her florist for the twentieth episode of BlissBride. She was a big fan of the pink petals.” The Brit gave an exaggerated moan. “If you would like to accept the job, please give me a call back at….” The number was purposefully mumbled, and Elly was grateful that her cell phone had recorded it. “You have twelve hours to accept the job. If you do not, the position will be given to Sisters Flowers in Kirkwood. They did a beautiful orchid spread, with tropicals and greenery. Anyway, give me a call by tomorrow morning and let me know your decision. Thank you. And I just want you to know, that if it was up to me….”

  Elly hung up the phone and stared at it in her hand. She was going to be on BlissBride. She was going to have enough money to open up another store. And she had a brother, one who she had thought was trying to kill her. Elly turned and looked at Cadbury, lying belly up on the couch, his one shaggy eye focused on her. “Holy crap,” she said out loud. Then she headed to the kitchen to pour a large glass of Riesling.

  Chapter Ten

  Elly shielded her eyes from the glare of the towering metal buildings. “I’m not sure about being so close to downtown. I mean, shouldn’t we look for something on a side street? Does it have to be quite so … corporate?”

  Snarky Teenager snorted and raised her eyebrow at Elly. “Why, are you worried we’ll get too much business?”

  Elly gave her a look. “Oh, I forgot, you’re eighteen. You must know everything about business.” It had been a week since she had met Dennis, a week since she found out she would be on BlissBride, and one day since she had woken up with a headache and a half-empty bottle of wine. Since then, things had moved rather quickly. Elly would be meeting with her celebrity client on Monday. She received her virtually limitless account for the wedding flowers and, after feeling both elated and faint, Elly took Snarky Teenager out to dinner and told her the good news: They could try opening another shop, but they would have to move quickly. The publicity they would get from BlissBride would be enough to sustain the new shop for its first year. Which meant the store had to be open by the time the BlissBride wedding aired. The idea was equal parts brilliant and insanity. They would officially open a few days after the BlissBride wedding and ride out the publicity wave. Together, they had framed a concept and a business plan. “Store B,” as they were calling it now, would be a contemporary shop in the Clayton business district, but it would be on a one-year trial. If it didn’t make money, she wouldn’t be able to keep it open. Snarky Teenager was pushing to be co-manager, alongside Elly, who she thought could rotate in to manage the store, occasionally. Elly laughed at this idea. There was no way that would work. Elly would manage both. Somehow. It was a lot to take in, and just talking about it had left Elly feeling nervous.

  Today, they were out looking for a building that would work for them, and so far were having no luck. Rent in downtown Clayton wasn’t cheap, and each place they looked at was more expensive than the last. The first building reeked of cat pee and was little more than a glorified apartment. Elly had walked in and walked right out, knocking over a bag of beer cans with her shin. As she bent over to rub her leg, Snarky Teenager had bent over behind her and whispered against Elly’s ear, “I think I saw a sleeping bag in the corner. This building has squatters.” Without warning, a huge raccoon waddled out from the bathroom and rose up on its hind legs to hiss at them. It began moving toward them, and they both screamed and ran for the door. Once outside, Elly told the real estate agent that they weren’t interested and upped their budget significantly. They looked at three more buildings—all too small or too large or too next door to a Chinese restaurant, which Snarky Teenager pointed out would be stinky but also really bad for Elly. She wasn’t wrong. Finally, she had kindly dismissed the real estate agent, frustrated with her lack of options. Snarky Teenager then made some calls and implored Elly to look at ?
??just one more.”

  Elly’s fuchsia and lace shirt blew in the spring wind and she curled her lip as she took in the tall buildings around her. She felt slightly intimidated, standing here in the middle of the business district, bewildered by the millions of dollars changing hands on the street every day. She focused back on her worker, who was soaking up the spring sun in bright-coral cigarette jeans and a thin black tank top. “You need to listen to me. I’m just saying that a side street might be cheaper. We do not have to be on actual Main Street to make a profit.”

  Snarky Teenager unfolded her long legs and jumped down from the low planter she had been straddling as she sipped her chai tea. “Yeah, but this place is going to be all about our status and the idea of it. The store won’t just be a store. It’s the attitude that we have to present, a sort of commercial prestige. The store itself has to be a place that is so hip that when someone gets a bouquet from us, they say it all snotty, like, ‘I only buy flowers from Red Zen.’”

  “‘Red Zen’?” Elly wrinkled her nose. “I hate that. With a passion.”

  “Yeah, that’s going to be the name of our store.”

  “I don’t think so.” She looked down at her paper and then back up at the polished skyscraper. “Okay, well, the last one on the list is just inside the building.”

  Snarky Teenager’s voice rose happily. “It’s inside the office building?”

  “Yeah. That’s weird. Don’t we want a store front that looks onto the street?”

  “Are you kidding me? Elly, that’s supercool. That is a guaranteed market! Who else are all these workers going to call when they need flowers? Probably Red Zen, just down the elevator.”