Florence the Florist's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Florence arrived at the greenhouse before sunrise, but the crowd was already there. Dozens of people pressed against the glass, peering in at the flowers she'd arranged last night. Some had phones out, taking pictures. Others just stared. She recognized a few regular customers, but most were strangers. She unlocked the door and they poured in, surrounding the tables before she could say a word. They reached for the blooms, touched petals, leaned in to smell them. One woman held up a stem of deep blue flowers and asked the price. Another wanted a bouquet for a wedding next week. A man in the back kept pointing at the purples that shifted in the light. Florence opened her mouth to answer and three more people started talking over each other. She held up both hands and the crowd went quiet. "One at a time," she said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. She pointed to the woman with the blue stem. "Fifteen for a bundle. Tell me what you need." The woman nodded and grabbed two more stems. Florence turned to the man asking about weddings. "I can do custom work. Leave your contact." She kept moving, answering questions, making notes on scraps of paper she pulled from her pocket. The anxiety was there, thrumming under her ribs, but her hands knew what to do. By the time the sun came up, she'd sold half her stock and taken orders for three times what remained. The greenhouse felt lighter, almost empty again, but this time it meant something different. She had customers. She had demand. And when the man with the van came back today, she'd be ready to buy everything he brought. Florence locked the door behind the last customer and looked at the cash in her hands. The spring market was still five days away, but she wasn't done anymore.