Page 14 of A Field of Beauty
seven
Even the tiniest of flowers can have the toughest roots.
—Shannon Mullen
Same kitchen, different view. The next morning, Tessa stood at her sink, filling her coffeepot with water, noticing the light play off the ridiculously large diamond ring. It should bring her delight, but it only brought annoyance. She couldn’t get it off! The whole proposal moment was so public, so staged. Why would Tyler think she would want something like that? For that matter, why would he give her a ring like this one? The diamond looked just plain silly on her small hand. She was a flower farmer! She had working hands. She hardly wore jewelry anymore. Even more importantly, what made him think she was ready to make a commitment?
She heard a familiar rumble and leaned forward over the sink to crane her neck. Dawson was here! He never came to the farm on Sundays, so she went outside to see why he’d come. As he walked toward her, she noticed a five-o’clock shadow covering his chin and wondered if the return-to-full-beard had already started. She kind of hoped so. This GQ Dawson felt disorienting to her.
He gave her a toe-to-head look. “Glad to see you’re back in your overalls.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He held up a copy of theAsheville Citizen-Times. On the front page was the story of the governor’s dinner at the Biltmore, including a large photograph of Tessa, looking surprised as Tyler knelt on one knee to propose. “Now that you’re famous, I hope you don’t turn into a diva. You run a worm farm, after all.”
She snatched the paper from him. In the picture, she looked more than a little shocked at Tyler’s proposal, and not in a good way. Frankly, she looked horrified. She read the caption under the picture:
The governor couldn’t resist adding his endorsement to this council candidate’s “proposal” and hopes he’ll be invited to the wedding. Pictured: Tyler Thompson the Third and his fiancée, Tessa Anderson of Mountain Blooms Farm.
She sighed. At least Tyler got his coveted endorsement. And Mountain Blooms Farm got a mention. “This could be good for the farm, right? A little publicity never hurts.”
“Unless it’s linked to politics. Then it’s tainted.”
She ignored him. “Do you think more people or fewer people read the newspaper on Sunday?”
“More.”
She folded the paper. “I’m glad you’re here this morning. There’s something we have to talk about.”
“Right. I’ve been thinking about that too.” He looked at her left hand, at the lavish, impractical, too-small ring with the too-large diamond.
It felt uncomfortable to her, foreign to her hand, so not her taste, and wedged on her finger. Tyler hadn’t even given her a chance to respond to his proposal—he, along with everyone else,just assumed that she had said yes. She stuffed her hands in her overall pockets. “Not this. Other stuff.”
“Like what?”
“New ideas for the farm. Ways to open the farm up to the public.”
“Open it up? Tessa ... do you realize what happened last night?”
Of course she did! But she didn’t want to think about Tyler right now. “Hear me out. And hold your judgment too. I’ve been thinking that we should open the farm up to the public. Like a U-pick farm for flowers. Or maybe ... have events, like teaching people about how to arrange flowers. How to grow flowers. I was talking to a woman last night at the Biltmore, and she said she’d like to bring a group of friends to the farm for a flower event for her fiftieth birthday. She asked me if we hosted events ... and of course I said yes! Imagine it, Dawson. I could have champagne and appetizers and teach them how to arrange flowers and—” She stopped when she saw the mocking look on his face. Since his facial hair was gone, she could definitely see his expression of ridicule. “What?”
“Do you even know how to arrange flowers?”
“I do, actually. I used to work in a flower shop. I’m a little rusty, but I think I could teach the women a few things.”
“You used to work in a flower shop?” He looked at her curiously, as if to say,Why haven’t you mentioned that before?
She hadn’t mentioned it because she tried to block it out. Too painful. The end, that was. “I did. I loved it.” That part was true. Working in the flower shop had been a wonderful experience. When the woman had asked about celebrating her fiftieth birthday with a flower event at the farm, it caught Tessa’s imagination, and she came home to pull out her old flower books. Techniques and tricks that Rose had taught her kept bubbling up in her mind. Moments in the shop alongside Claire and Jaime.
Tessa was never as naturally good at flower arranging as Claireand Jaime were. They seemed to have an intuitive sense of what was lacking, or what was needed, or how to keep the eye traveling over an arrangement. Rose had to teach fundamentals to Tessa; she’d been so patient with her. She’d even given Tessa all her flower-arranging books to study—the very books she’d flipped through last night. Tessa remembered feeling so exasperated with herself for missing the little things in a bouquet—the focus flower, or fillers. Rose would put a hand on her shoulder and say, “Tessa, those little details can be taught. You have something that can’t be taught. I call it the Flyover Effect. You can imagine the big picture. Most people get stuck in the details. Watch and see. I have no doubt that you’re going to create something remarkable one day.”
Tessa had never forgotten Rose’s words, but she hadn’t really understood what they meant. Not until a late summer morning when the field of Yellow Gem dahlias were in full bloom. This had been her vision, all along. She needed help (Dawson! his genius and hard work) to turn it into reality, but it had started with her. That’s what Rose had seen in her. And maybe Dawson saw it in her too. She kept thinking about that secondhand compliment—that Tessa had turned “nothing” into something beautiful. Those remarks, from Rose and from Dawson, two people whom she thought of so highly, were words she would always treasure.
“If you loved the flower shop so much, why’d you leave?”
This was too much. Too many memories, too many emotions. Going through Rose’s flower books last night had made her so maudlin and teary and sentimental that she finally put them away and went to bed ... and then she tossed and turned. Dawson kept his eyes on her, waiting for the answer. She wasn’t ready to give it to him. “Let’s stay focused on the flower event concept. What do you think about it?”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
