Page 25 of Melting for the Firefighter
“I come bearing sugar and town interference.”
She hands me a lemonade.
“Thank you for last night.”
“You scared ten years off my life.”
“Sorry.”
“Make it up to me by following instructions next time.”
“I plan to avoid having a next time.”
“Excellent strategy.”
She lifts the clipboard.
“The Founder’s Day committee wants Grandma’s Garden at the festival. Free booth. Pine Ridge Greenhouse is donating stock. We’re also setting up a rebuilding fund.”
“I can’t take people’s money.”
“You’ve donated flowers to every school dance, funeral lunch, hospital drive, and town celebration for years.”
“Grandma started that.”
“You continued it.”
I shake my head. “People need their money.”
Lance speaks from behind me.
“They need a way to help.”
I look at the burned shop.
Accepting help feels like opening my hands and admitting they are empty.
I have spent my whole life making myself useful. Giving flowers. Sending money. Solving problems before anyone has to ask twice.
Receiving is different.
Receiving means someone might see what I need.
Tessa lowers the clipboard.
“Let us show up for you, Cora.”
The words press against the hollow place my mother’s call left behind.
No one has ever said that to me before.
I swallow.
“Okay.”
Tessa smiles and places the clipboard in my hands before I can change my mind.
By afternoon, Pine Ridge Greenhouse has delivered more flowers than will fit on Lance’s kitchen table.
