Page 13 of Bluebell Promises

“What are you doing here?” Ivy asked. She sounded accusatory.

Wren stuttered. “I’m going on a walk.”

“Did you lock the door behind you?” Ivy asked.

“Of course,” Wren said, although she wasn’t entirely sure if she had.

Ivy’s shoulders relaxed. She opened the door wider and said, “You can come in if you want to.”

Wren hadn’t been to the flower shop since before Elliott had refurbished it. She’d heard rumors about its beauty and its newfound success, but seeing it in person was a different story entirely. The ornate shop was painted a deep blue, and the flowers were lush and free-wielding, speaking of a creativity in their florist that Ivy didn’t immediately show in conversation. Wren knew it was there, though—that creativity, that artistry, that heart.

But now, Ivy continued to look at her as though she were a nail in her shoe.

“How does the town look to you?” Elliott asked Wren. “The same or very different?”

Wren didn’t know how to answer this. Her initial instinct was to lie and say it looked the same. But the truth was, it all felt different to her, especially after so many of her life circumstances had changed. It now felt more like a prison than it ever had before. She’d always seen it as a haven, rather than something she couldn’t escape from.

“It’s beautiful as always,” she said.

“I met a photographer at the Eco-Lodge the other day,” Elliott said. “He said he’s trying to sell photographs of Maine. They’re going like hotcakes, apparently, but he doesn’t have a very good portfolio. I thought of you.”

Ivy raised her eyebrows at Wren. “Wren always has a ton of projects. That’s how she travels all over the world.”

It seemed almost like an accusation or a question. Wren didn’t know what to say.

“Of course! I get it,” Elliott said brightly. “But hey, I’ll leave you ladies to it. I have a bunch of work to finish up this afternoon.” He snapped his fingers, then added, “Ivy, did you tell Wren about the family party?”

Wren’s stomach chilled. Nobody had told her about the family party.

“I don’t know if Wren will be around for it,” Ivy said.

“It’s this weekend.” Elliott shrugged. “You can stick around till this weekend, right, Wren?”

Wren hesitated. On the one hand, all she wanted in the world was to run for the boundary line of Bluebell Cove and never turn back. On the other hand, she literally couldn’t. She was too exhausted. She was too broke.

“I’d love to join,” she said meekly.

“Fantastic! I just needed to know how many burgers to buy,” Elliott said, kissing Ivy goodbye and heading out the door.

This left Ivy and Wren facing off in the flower shop.

“So,” Ivy said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Wren willed someone, anyone, to enter the flower shop and distract Ivy so that she could slip away. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I’ll, um, head out?”

“Wren,” Ivy said, worry fluttering over her face. “You really don’t look well.”

Wren rolled her eyes. “I’m really fine,” she said.

“You know that coming here and immediately collapsing in front of the whole town does not mean you’re fine,” Ivy stammered. “I keep picking up the phone to call your doctor. I want to. So badly. But I also don’t want to step on your toes. I’ve been to therapy for years at this point. I’m trying to overcome this insane desire to fix everything all the time.”

“Have you worked on your anger issues?” Wren snapped.

Ivy’s eyes widened.

Wren knew she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her eyes.

Ivy was quiet for a moment. Wren tried to will herself to leave the flower shop, but she felt frozen to the spot.