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  Fin cuts me off, reaching for my hand beneath the table.

  “And she’ll have me to help out with anything and everything she needs,” Fin says, lacing his fingers between mine as he speaks.

  Kris raises her hand and mumbles something through a mouthful of food.

  “Kristina, do not talk with food in your mouth!” my grandmother hisses.

  She rolls her eyes and clears her throat. “Sorry, Mom. She’ll have me too. I don’t know anything about flowers, but the coffee shop does pretty well and I’ve never been audited on my taxes.”

  “I do your taxes for you,” Fin says, tossing a piece of garlic bread across the table. She picks it up and takes a bite, completely unphased.

  “Well, it sounds like you have this all planned out,” my mother says with a smile as she pushes away from the table. “I’ve had a very long few days settling in and unpacking. I’m going to go home and get some sleep.”

  I watch, confused as she heads out of the room without another word. Something is off and I can’t leave things that way. Following behind her, I stop on the front step while she walks toward her car.

  “Mom,” I call out. She stops and turns to face me, arms crossed at her chest. “What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

  “Nothing is wrong. I told you, I’m tired,” she says, staring back at me.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m tired and I want to go home.”

  I sigh and step down onto the driveway, walking toward her.

  “Are you mad about the flower shop?” I ask, taking a not-so-blind guess. She didn’t seem thrilled with the idea and then after Fin and Kris said they would help me get things started she made her exit. It doesn’t take a detective to add up those clues.

  “No, it’s not that, Amelia.”

  “Then what is it, Mom? Because I can tell something is wrong.”

  “We’re growing apart,” she says quietly.

  “What?” I ask, shock creasing my brow. “What are you talking about? You’re my mother, we can’t just grow apart.”

  She inhales deeply, keeping her arms crossed and then I hear her sniffle.

  “I’m happy for you. I really am. you’ve made this whole life here in such a short time, but I just feel like I’m on the outside looking in now.”

  I take another step forward.

  “No you’re not. You could never be on the outside, not with me. Things are just different now, for both of us. Before you and I were all we had. We lived in this tiny bubble, keeping each sane and watching a lot of movies about the lives we wished we had. Now look at us. You’re a partner and managing editor of a popular magazine. You travel and meet strong, intelligent women, giving them a bigger voice through your interviews and features. And I…”

  “You found the family you always wanted,” she finishes.

  “A family that you’re part of. I don’t want us to grow apart, and I don’t want you to feel left out. Even when you travel and you miss family dinners because you’re working, you’re still part of the family. You’re still my mom and nothing is going to change that.”

  “You used to tell me everything. I had no idea you were even thinking about starting a business, let alone that you had made the decision to go ahead with it,” she says, tilting her head.

  “I know. I just wanted to figure this out on my own. I’ve had a hard time choosing a path since we moved here and all of my plans changed. I didn’t want to talk myself out of it or…”

  “Or let me talk you out of it,” she says quietly, finishing my thought. She takes a deep breath and rubs her hands over her face. “I’m sorry, Amelia. Months ago I told you I wanted you to do whatever would make you happy, but I don’t think my actions have always matched that sentiment. I do want you to be happy, and I want you to follow your heart, not just in love but in everything you do. That being said, I think I can also be harsh and judgemental sometimes. Not because I don’t support you or want you to follow your dreams, but because I want to keep you safe, inside our tiny bubble away from the world with its disappointment and heartbreak.”

  “I know, Mom, but if I never take any chances I’ll never find the things that make me truly happy. The things that fulfill me the way the magazine does for you.”

  She nods and swipes at the corner of her eyes.

  “Just know that I’m always here for you. No matter how much success you find or how many times you stumble. Regardless of whether I’m here or in Connecticut or Colorado, I’m just a phone call or a flight away.”

  I run to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my head on her shoulder. “I know, Mom.”

  ***

  When I step back into the dining room my grandmother is gone and the plates have been cleared. My grandfather, Fin and Kris are talking quietly at the far end of the table.

  “What are you three up to?” I ask suspiciously.

  My grandfather clears his throat.

  “Well, Fin and I were just discussing some business.”

  “I was just being nosy,” Kris adds.

  “Uh huh,” I say, sitting back down and taking a sip of my water.

  “I want to invest in your business,” my grandfather says plainly. “Starting a business takes money. I would hate to see you dig yourself into debt when you could take on an investor instead.”

  “I’m starting a business, not a charity. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll take out loans the same way any other new business would.”

  “I don’t want to invest in your business because you’re my granddaughter,” he says, sitting up straight. “I want to invest because it’s a damn good idea and I know you’re going to make a killing, and when you do you might consider expanding and I want in on the ground floor.”

  “Oh,” I say, relaxing into my chair. “In that case, sure, let’s do it.” I smile, mentally checking off another box on my to-do list. I had planned to ask my mother for a loan. I didn’t want to just take the money, I wanted to do this the right way, the professional way. With my grandfather as an investor I won’t have to do that.

  “I’ll have my lawyer write up a simple contract, then we’ll get you set up with a lawyer of your own. You’ll need one if you’re going to be a business woman after all.” He smiles, pats Fin on the shoulder, gives Kris a kiss on the head and walks toward me. He stops in front of me, bending down to kiss my cheek.

  “I’m proud of you,” he says with a nod. Then he disappears through the doorway.

  We all leave together, Fin locks the door behind us, and I follow Kris to her car.

  "Thank you. For everything" I say, leaning in to give her a hug even though I know she hates them.

  She pats me on the back three times and pulls away.

  "It was nothing. You're family in a weird almost creepy sort of way," she says, climbing into her car.

  I smirk and walk across the driveway.

  "I think tonight went really well," Fin says, dipping his head to kiss my lips when I reach him. His mouth moves slowly against mine, mesmerizing and teasing me, always leaving me wanting more. When he pulls away I stare up at him dreamily.

  "Let's go home." He winks.

  Four Years Later

  “Kris, seriously.” I give her my most serious stare, narrow eyes and tilted head included.

  “No.” She stares back, completely unphased.

  “A small iced coffee, one shot of espresso.”

  “No.” She repeats, shifting her eyes back and forth like I’m the crazy one here.

  I sigh, deciding to try a different approach since my current tactic is getting me nowhere.

  “Kris,” I say with a smile. “I have to make 32 centerpieces and 9 bouquets today and then I have to deliver them to that creepy haunted estate on the other side of town tonight for the Sharp wedding tomorrow morning. I can’t do that without coffee. So, could you please make me a small iced coffee. I’ll even forgo the extra caffeine if it will appease you.�
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  “Kat,” she says, smiling at me in what I am assuming is the same creepy way I just smiled at her. Then she leans over the counter and places her freshly manicured hand on my stomach. “You dragged me to your doctor’s appointment and introduced me to what looked like a coffee bean with a heartbeat on a monitor and you made me pinky swear not to give you coffee until your second trimester. I didn’t know what the hell that meant, so I googled it, and according to the eight week old coffee bean hanging on my fridge, it means you have four weeks to go.” She blinks, pats my stomach and retreats back behind the counter.

  “I know I know, but just one cup isn’t going to hurt anything, tons of women do it and their babies are perfectly fine,” I argue.

  “I’m sure that’s true, but here’s the thing. That’s my niece or nephew in there and I’d feel awful if something did happen. Also, I’ve never broken a pinky swear and I’m not going to start today.” She huffs out a heavy breath and looks at me with raised brows. “The best I can do is a medium decaf and a cake pop.”

  I throw my head back and groan.

  “Fine. Do you have the strawberry ones?”

  She reaches for a medium cold cup, scribbles on it and passes it to the barista as she shifts her eyes again. “Of course I do. You’re the only one that likes them.”

  “That can’t be true.” I scoff. “Why would you keep ordering them?”

  “Because you like them,” she says, staring at me with wide eyes.

  “Aww, Kris, that’s so sweet. In that case I’ll take two.”

  She shakes her head, quirking her mouth to the side.

  “No, sorry. When I was educating myself on the basics of pregnancy, which, as an adult woman I acknowledge I should already know, I stumbled upon a little thing called gestational diabetes. It’s apparently really important to limit your sweets and balance your carbs with lean protein. I’ll toss some bacon in a bag for you.”

  “Kristina!” I groan, smacking my hand on the counter. I’m only eight weeks pregnant and Kris has only known since I begged her to go to my sonogram with me last week. She’s already driving me insane. I don’t know how I’m going to survive the next thirty-two weeks, or rather, how she will.

  She slides my decaf iced coffee and two paper pastry bags across the counter with a smile.

  “Thanks,” I grumble, scooping them up and heading out the door.

  I turn left out of the coffee shop and pass a bookstore, a yoga studio and the stationary store I still don’t understand. How can a store dedicated to printing decorative paper exist in a primarily digital, eco-friendly world? I just don’t get it. I wrap my fingers around the silver handle of the glass door with Kat’s Flowers etched into it. When I get to the clean white marble counter I drop my bags, set down my coffee and place my forehead on the cold surface. I hear Fin’s boots approaching from the back of the shop. His steps pause in the doorway.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, hesitation in his voice.

  “Your sister,” I groan, turning my head to look at him. He’s carrying two boxes marked vases. His flannel shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his hair is styled, combed back into a somewhat neat knot and his beard is longer than the stubble I’m used to. But I like it, all of it.

  “Uh oh. You’re not using her name. What happened?” he asks, setting the boxes on the floor and striding toward me. He stops at my side, gently stroking my back.

  “She won’t give me real coffee,” I mumble. I know I sound like a child, but I don’t care. I’m tired and I want the one thing I’ve counted on for as long as I can remember. A cold, sweet cup of iced coffee in the morning.

  He sighs, tilting his head and looking down at me with the same apologetic quirked expression Kris gave me a few minutes ago.

  “You asked her, no. You made her swear on her half blind cat not to give you coffee until the second trimester,” he says quietly.

  “I know that, Fin,” I grumble, standing up straight and adjusting my shirt. I’m barely showing at all, but I’ve already switched to french tucking just about every shirt I own to delay the inevitable. My impending growth.

  “You look perfect,” Fin says, taking my hands in his and pulling me toward him. “Listen, this is still really new to both of us. I know you’re still adjusting to the idea yourself and I’m sure that is perfectly normal in these situations.”

  I narrow my eyes. “These situations? You mean completely out of left field unexpected pregnancies?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean,” he says, wincing and nodding his head slowly. “For what it’s worth you only have four weeks left until she lifts the coffee ban, and if it means that much to you I can get you an iced coffee from that place around the corner.”

  “Roasted?” I gasp, dropping my jaw dramatically. “Matilda is the enemy! She’s Kris’ competition and she’s not even friendly.”

  “I thought you and Kris were on the outs?” he asks with wide confused eyes.

  “We are. We were.” I sigh, dropping my chin to my chest for a second before looking up into his bright hazel eyes. “Kris is family, we’re not on the outs and I’m not going to support her competition. I’m just.” I shake my head and look away. shifting my attention out the big front window, to the sun soaked main street beginning to bustle with shoppers and people walking to work.

  “You’re what,” Fin asks, squeezing my hands gently.

  “I’m afraid, ok?” I look back at him, searching for a reaction. “I’m afraid everything is going to change, and I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Tears begin to pool in my eyes, stinging as they move forward and spill over. Fin pulls me against his body, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

  “I was scared at first too,” he whispers into my hair.

  “You didn’t seem nervous at all. You didn’t even miss a beat when I told you I was pregnant. You wanted to get married,” I say, sniffling into his flannel.

  “I wanted to do everything right. For you. When you stormed into the house in tears and dropped those two words in front of me all I could think about was how I could make it better for you. I smiled when I thought my chest was going to explode and I asked if you wanted to get married because I wanted to give you security. I thought I was going to throw up, Amelia.”

  I giggle into his shirt as more tears pour down my cheeks.

  “I didn’t know that,” I say through another sniffle. “I just thought you were excited to be a dad.”

  “I am now, but I wasn’t at first. I had a million worries going through my mind. I didn’t even have real parents until I was nine. How the hell was I going to know how to be one? What if I screw everything up and you and the baby end up hating me? What if I ruin everything?”

  “What changed your mind?” I ask, turning to rest my cheek on his chest. The tears are slower now, more of a drizzle than a downpour.

  “My dad,” Fin says and my grandfather’s face comes to mind. My mother maintains that her parents were very particular while she was growing up. Controlling and overreaching when it came to her academics and social life. But I’ve seen none of that for myself and Fin says they were nothing like that when he and Kris were growing up. We attribute it to them learning from their mistakes and taking a new approach the second time around.

  “I went to talk to him a few days after you told me. I wasn’t sleeping well and I had a lot of anxiety about what kind of parent I would be.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said it took him a long time to figure it out, but kids just need to be surrounded by love, and support. Neither of us has anything to worry about.” Fin presses his lips to the top of my head, lingering for a few seconds before continuing.

  “I love you and our baby more than I thought I was capable of loving anything and I’m going to be there for both of you no matter what. You can have a hundred meltdowns over coffee or candy or the groomer cutting Ginger’s hair too short and I’m never going anywhere. Our kid can paint or dance or pla
y any sport under the sun and I’ll be right there watching and cheering them on. I have no idea how to change a diaper or feed a baby, but I can learn all of that. The love I feel for the little family we’re making right now tells me that we’ve got this, Amelia.”

  Tears begin to well in my eyes all over again and before I know it I’m sobbing. Not because I’m sad but because that was the most perfect thing anyone has ever said. Since the night Fin and I went home from that party together he’s been amazing, patient, understanding, loving. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s going to make an amazing father and husband. When the emotions pass and I pull myself together, again. I pull back just enough to look up at him.

  “You were right,” I say, smiling up at him. “I want to do it. I want to get married.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  I press my eyes shut and nod, swiping the tears from my lashes. When I open my eyes he takes a step back, reaches into his pocket and bends down on one knee. My mouth falls open in surprise as he holds up a ring.

  “How long have you been carrying that around for?” I whisper.

  “Since the first time I asked and you said no. You should have known I wouldn’t just take no for an answer.” He smiles and my heart just about bursts. “Amelia, I loved you way too fast, and with more ferocity than most people experience in a lifetime. I thought my time with you would be short, but you accepted me and loved me in spite of the weird complicated details. I’d like to spend the rest of my life returning the favor, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

  I nod and my right hand flies to my chest where I can feel my heart beating rapidly.

  “Yes. One hundred times, yes.” As soon as the words leave my mouth Fin slips the ring on my finger and stands, pulling me in and pressing his mouth to mine.

  “I love you,” I mutter against his lips.

  “I love you too.”

  The End