itswillbennett:
Will couldn’t tell if she was happy to see him again, or if she was just kind and accommodating to all of her customers. It didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, but he was the type to worry about things like that. Ever since his wife left, he’d craved authenticity like a starved man craving for food. Passing interactions didn’t feel as if they were enough anymore.
“Maybe,” he admitted, a grin inching on the edge of his lips. “They were lovely. Found myself just stopping and smiling every time I left the house.” Which was true, but he didn’t touch on the fact that as soon as he left he doorstep, an impending sense of dread would fill up again.
At this point, Will paused, unsure and a bit afraid of what to say next. Should he reveal to her that when he’d seen the chrysanthemums, he’d been reminded of her as well, and her kind smile and soft voice? That perhaps, it hadn’t necessarily the flowers that brightened his day, but the thought of her?
But it didn’t feel right. They had spoken for what, fifteen minutes, the last time he was here? It felt grossly over the line, and he was sure that she got enough of creeps popping in to “say hi” or whatever perverts did these days.
So he lied. Lying by omission, but a lie nonetheless. “So I’m back for more. It’s a shame that they don’t last for very long — but then again, if they did, I guess you’d be out of business.”
She smiled sincerely when he spoke. There was something nice about knowing she helped make someone’s day. And he was a very nice man who seemed to deserve some nice things in his life. Nothing about that was going to change. The way she looked at him, she could almost see his mind spinning, but thought nothing of it. That was the way people were at times. Greta could understand that.
“I’m really glad to hear that,” she told him. “I might be out of business if they lasted longer, but I like them so much i wouldn’t mind. But then sweet people like you wouldn’t stop by and brighten my day,” she told him honestly. He did seem like the kind who could put a smile on her face and help distract her when things got tedious. It was something she was glad for.
Pausing, she lifted a hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So were you thinking chrysanthemums again or something else?” she asked curiously. No matter what he selected, Greta was sure it would look nice, and she would be glad he stopped by again. She’d thought of him a few times in the last two weeks, curious to how both he and the flowers were. Needless to say she was grateful he materialized back in her shop.









