Chapter 1
Something’s missing. Frowning, I studied the array of flowers, greenery, and assorted decorations I’d arranged in the picture window. In the center, fresh bouquets of bright zinnias fairly burst with color and cheer. On one side, a stand of purple and pink phalaenopsis orchids called to mind luxury and elegance; on the other side, a tied bouquet of fat, luscious silk peonies sang of romance and riches. The pottery—glazed ceramics handcrafted by local artisans—added an upscale touch, while the garden art kept things playful—especially the chubby gnome, ladybug fairy hut, and rainbow-hued metal spinner. As a backdrop, trailing ivy and potted ferns brought a lush, vibrant greenness to the scene. I leaned over to straighten two small wooden signs (declaring Welcome and Be Happy), then stood back with hand on chin.
It all looked very nice. The overall effect was “secret garden meets enchanted forest.” But was it attractive enough? Meaning, would it attract the good vibes, abundant customers, and business growth I was going for?
“Sierra Ravenswood! Are you still working on that display?” Deena Lee, my right-hand woman and new best friend, breezed in from the back room, her skirt swishing and heels clicking on the tile floor. We’d run in different circles back in high school, but when we both returned to our hometown of Aerieville, Tennessee, a decade later, Deena and I found we had more in common than we ever knew. I was still grateful she’d decided to stay and work for me at the flower shop. She had a good eye for beautiful designs. “It looks fine,” she assured me. “It looked fine half an hour ago.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I’m trying something here.”
“You know,” she went on, “it’s not like we get much foot traffic on Oak Street anyway.”
That was true. Flower House was in the old section of town. We were one of a few converted Victorians in a quiet, mostly residential, neighborhood. The only other businesses on the block were a small bakery, a dusty antique shop, an accountant’s office, and a volunteer-run, rarely open historical society. At the end of the street was a forgotten little park called Melody Gardens. All the more reason to take extraordinary steps to lure in new customers.
“This is more than an everyday window display,” I said. The one I’d just removed had been more traditional, with lots of red, white, and blue in honor of Independence Day. Now that the holiday was over, I wanted to go in another direction. “This is a vision board of sorts. Everything I included is meant to symbolize abundance and prosperity. Like the vines: fast-growing, because we need to grow fast.”
She gave me a bemused look. “That’s why we’re opening the café next weekend. People will come in to try our edible flower goodies, then make a purchase while they’re here.” Deena would be the chef in our new mini-restaurant.
“I know. But it can’t hurt to infuse the place with an extra bit of luck.” I looked at the display again and tilted my head. Was that what was missing? A lucky charm?
“How about this?” said Deena, as if reading my mind. She took a potted bamboo plant off a nearby shelf and handed it to me. “Lucky bamboo.”
“That’s the spirit!” Nodding with approval, I took the plant from her and found a place for it in the display. “If it works for the Chinese, why not for us?”
“Not just the Chinese,” she said. “Koreans too. My grandparents swear by it. Well, that and pigs. Pigs are even luckier than bamboo.”
“Pigs? Really?” I looked around, as if I might find a pig figurine in the shop. There was none.
“Yeah.” Deena laughed. “According to my grandmother anyway. Grandma Binna’s almost as superstitious as your granny.”
“No way,” I said with a smile. “Granny Mae’s whole life revolves around her superstitions.”
“You’d be surprised. When I was in school, Grandma Binna always used to tell me not to wash my hair before a test. Otherwise I’d wash all my knowledge right down the drain.”
“And did you listen to her?” Deena had been one of the prettiest, most popular girls in our class. I was quite sure she’d never come to school with unwashed hair.
“Of course! Why take chances?”
“Right.” I smirked. “Could you imagine if Granny Mae met Grandma Binna? I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
I loved my granny to pieces but could never understand why she put so much stock in superstitions that had no basis in fact nor science. I, on the other hand, based my beliefs on personal experience. At least, I tried to. In my view, it was true that certain symbols and images could hold positive energy and bring about change, but that was because of the viewer’s own state of mind. It was the simple Law of Attraction.
Come to think of it, maybe Granny Mae and I weren’t that different after all.
I’d been seeing a lot more of my granny lately, ever since she’d planted a patch of flowers and herbs out back near the greenhouse. She came down from her home in the mountains about once a week, hitching a ride with her neighbor, Wanda Milford, who was a few years younger than Granny. Wanda liked to come into town to grocery shop and get her hair done. Granny liked to impart homespun wisdom and keep an eye on me.
Deena picked up a feather duster and ran it over a table holding glass vases and metal urns of fresh flowers. “Grandma Binna makes the trip from Seoul at least once a year,” she said. “I’ll have to bring her by next time.”
“For sure. I’d love to meet her.” I headed for the front door. “I’m gonna look at this display from outside now. I still think somethin’s missing.”
I plucked a mint leaf from the planter on the stoop and rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger. Walking to the front of the house, I sniffed the minty sweetness. Good stuff, I thought. One of life’s small pleasures. If Deena saw me doing this, she might call me “Amélie,” after the character in the French movie. I guessed I could be quirky and imaginative like that. Or maybe it was just because of my brunette hair and short bangs.
I took a gander at the window display, immediately noting where I needed to shift things around for better effect. But my attention soon wandered up the face of the building, from the baby blue and white trim to the dusty rose scalloped siding beneath the gable roof. Sunlight glinted off the single circular window at the top. All at once, I felt a jumble of emotions wash over me, foremost a blend of pride and satisfaction—tempered with a healthy dose of worry and angst.
The place was all mine. And it was all thanks to one impulsive decision by my old boss, Felix Maniford. He’d built this business from the ground up, together with his late wife Georgina. Flower House had become an institution, and not just in little ol’ Aerieville. The Manifords became known far and wide for Georgina’s collection of exotic orchids and Felix’s hothouse roses, not to mention the special flair Felix always brought to his bouquet arrangements.
I was just a part-time helper—until Felix up and left one day. He’d set off on a folly of a treasure hunt somewhere out West. He was so intent on his new adventure, he’d left everything behind. And he’d given me his shop, to do with as I pleased.
“Talk about your mixed blessings,” I muttered to myself. It was the career opportunity I never knew I wanted. I’d planned to be a professional singer-songwriter—in spite of my false start in Nashville a while back. I was going to travel, get rich and famous, meet exciting people, and find fantasy-worthy romance.
Instead I was here, firmly ensconced in my Appalachian hometown, trying to make it as a small business owner. So far, it was mostly fun and exciting—when it wasn’t tiring or terrifying.
A sharp bark pulled me from my reverie. I turned to see my corgi, Gus (another gift from Felix), trotting up the sidewalk on stubby little legs. I had to grin at his eager mini-wolf face, big ears, and furry bread loaf of a body. Then I glanced up at the guy on the other end of the leash and my grin widened by a smidge. Calvin. My second employee and only tenant. He tended the plants we grew on site and helped with maintenance—and dog wrangling.
It was sweet of him to take Gus out of Flower House and for a walk. Cal had been working overtime in the greenhouse, helping to get ready for the grand opening of our café next Saturday. For that matter, he’d been working overtime at Flower House ever since he showed up here three months ago and moved into the upstairs apartment. He’d been an immense help to me. More than that, he’d also turned out to be a fun person to have around. And then some.
I watched as Gus led Calvin on a zigzaggy sniffing tour up the block. What was it about that guy that made my heart go flippity-flop? He was of average height and average build, on the thin side actually. Nothing like the bodybuilder physique of my dad and brother who, together with my mom, ran Dumbbells Gym downtown. He was kind of nerdy really, prone to making goofy puns, and way more into plants than your average gardener—which made sense, since he’d been an adjunct botany professor in Knoxville before moving to Aerieville.
Of course, he’d copped a nerdy persona on purpose when he’d first introduced himself to me. As he later confessed, he’d thought it would make him seem more trustworthy—and help conceal his real reason for being here.
To be honest, I still wasn’t sure how well I knew the real Calvin Foxheart.
He looked up at me then, as he and Gus finally stepped onto the lawn in front of Flower House, and flashed a carefree smile. I realized then that there were a few things I did know for sure. I knew he had a nice face, with a masculine jawline and sparkling blue eyes. I knew he was good with Gus. And I knew he was hardworking, generous, funny, and kind.
Still, it was hard to get past the fact that he hadn’t been completely honest with me from the start. And I’d been burned by dishonest men before.
“Hey,” he said casually. “What’s on your mind? You look conflicted about something.”
I started. Was I that transparent?
“Um … I am conflicted. I’m trying to decide if I should add a money tree to the display.” I hooked my thumb toward the window behind me. “Deena suggested the lucky bamboo plant, and it got me thinking about other plants that symbolize prosperity. Bart is stopping by with a delivery sometime today. I could order the plant from him.”
“Sure, why not?” said Calvin. “You said the display is meant to remind you of what you want, right? I say, go for it. Don’t hold back.” His expression was slightly amused, tinged with genuine curiosity.
“I know you view this as a case study,” I said with a smile. “But this sort of thing has worked for me before. Plenty of times.”
“Really?” He pursed his lips, as if pondering the possibilities. “Sounds like you hold a magic lamp, then. Like, with a genie who will grant all your wishes. But if it’s that easy, then why not do it for everything you want?” He paused and cocked his head. “Or have you? Is everything in your life here now because you’ve attracted it?”
I shrugged, not bothered by the questions. “In a way, yes. I mean, it’s a little more complicated than that. But in general, yes. This is true for everybody. Whatever we put our attention on, good or bad, conscious or not, is what we draw to us.”
He nodded slowly, fixing me with an interested gaze. A second went by, and I imagined I felt a charge pass between us. Was he training his attention on me because of what I’d just said? Was he trying to draw me to him?
A small smile played at his lips, and I realized he was teasing me.
“You don’t believe it’s true?” I asked.
“You know me. I’m a man of science. I like to see proof.” He nodded toward the window. “We’ll see if this little experiment of yours brings in an influx of money. Like, an unexpected amount of business growth. If it does, then we’ll know. You’ll have found the rainbow leading to a pot of gold.”
I smiled again. “Well, I already know. But, yeah. Then you’ll know too.”
“Speaking of treasure,” he said. “Hear anything from Felix lately?”
And there it was. The reason Calvin had shown up in my life in the first place—and possibly the reason he stayed: his intense interest in Felix’s treasure hunt. The Arwin Treasure was purportedly hidden somewhere in the wilds out West by an eccentric, wealthy antique collector. A series of hidden riddles and clues had kept treasure seekers on the hunt for several years now.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I said. “He called me the other day to catch up.” Actually, he’d wanted me to look up something in one of the many books he’d left behind.
“How’s he doing? Getting any closer?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t say. But I kind of doubt it. He mentioned he might come back to Aerieville for the winter if he hasn’t found it before then.” I hoped he would come back. There was so much I wanted to ask Felix about the business.
“I take it he hasn’t been bothered by any of the other treasure hunters?” said Calvin.
“I asked, and he only laughed. He always laughs about that.”
Before Calvin could pursue the subject any further, Gus jumped up and barked as a car swerved to a stop by the curb in front of the shop. It was an old Subaru Outback—Granny’s car—driven by her friend Wanda. Though Wanda usually drove, they alternated between Granny’s car and Wanda’s SUV. Both ladies piled out of the Outback, Granny dressed for gardening in rolled-up jeans, a cotton shirt, and a floppy straw hat, and Wanda dressed for … Hawaii, apparently, in a floral print muumuu. As Granny lifted the hatchback and retrieved various bags and baskets, Wanda scurried up the sidewalk, frazzled and in a hurry.
“Hello, dear. Can I use your powder room? Yours is much nicer than the one at the salon.”
“Of course,” I said, as she was already halfway in the door.
Calvin handed me Gus’s leash and hurried over to Granny to help carry her bags. I joined them on the sidewalk and gave Granny a kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t mind her,” said Granny. “Wanda got into a little tussle at the meat market. Bopped the butcher right on the head with a foot-long salami.”
“What?” Surely, I hadn’t heard her right.
Calvin laughed. “No kidding?”
Granny reached into a bag for a small piece of lunchmeat and gave it to Gus, who was sitting attentively right in front of her like a good boy. He knew what visits from Granny meant.
“Well, he’d been ignoring her,” said Granny, presumably referring to the butcher. “Wanda doesn’t like to be ignored. Can’t really blame her. Folks are always ignoring us old ladies.”
“She really hit him on the head?” I asked. “Not hard, I assume.”
“Hard enough. I had to drag her out of there before she did it again. It’s getting to be a habit with her.”
“Hitting people on the head with salami?” asked Calvin.
“Not just salami. It all started with her no-good drunk of a husband many years ago. Rest his soul. She bopped him on the head with a frying pan. Of course, he deserved it and didn’t press charges. Ever since then, that’s been her MO.” Granny scratched Gus behind the ears, as she squinted her eyes with something like worry. “Disrespect Wanda and watch out. You might get bopped on the head.”
Calvin and I looked at each other, sharing equal parts shock and amusement. “Good to know,” said Calvin. He headed up to the front door and held it open. “I promise I’ll never disrespect Wanda.”
Inside, Granny looked around and commented on how nice the shop looked. Deena waved from behind the wooden counter in the center of the front room, where she was on the phone by the cash register. Calvin took Granny’s bags to the large kitchen in the back that doubled as our workroom.
“Why, what a pretty little space you’ve created,” said Granny, peering through the arched entryway leading from the shop’s main room to the café area on the left. When Felix abandoned his idea for a café after Georgina died, this area had become a cluttery, mish-mash of a room. It was mainly used for storage and occasional special events, such as the bouquet-arranging class I’d led in the spring. Unfortunately, that time around it had also become a murder scene. I shuddered at the memory.
“We’ve been working hard the past few weeks.” The place did look pretty, if I said so myself. Of course, there were flowers and plants galore. And we’d opted for a sort of rustic Parisian décor, with eclectic furniture and vintage botanical prints on the walls. In addition to four small round tables, we’d added a velvet couch along one wall, giving the space a cozy coffee shop vibe. We’d even found an old brass chandelier at the antique shop across the street. “We got all our permits squared away and the menu all planned. Now we just hope folks will come by.”
“Well, I’m sure they will,” said ever-supportive Granny. She was a nice counterbalance to her daughter. My mom couldn’t seem to help offering dire warnings about how so many new small businesses fail within the first year. Especially restaurants. And how location plays a big part in that depressing statistic. She meant well.
Deena hung up the phone and joined us in the café. “We just received an order for a get-well bouquet. I can deliver it this afternoon. I’m supposed to meet my parents for dinner anyway.” Deena’s parents both worked at the county hospital, her mother as a healthcare manager and her father as a cardiologist.
“That’s great!” At this point, every order was cause for celebration. “Maybe you could stop by the gift shop and ask them again if they’d consider doing business with us. We could easily keep them stocked in simple bouquets each week.”
“I’ll ask,” Deena promised.
Granny turned to me. “Business is going well?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. We’re doing great. Can’t complain.”
She continued to give me the eagle eye. Granny may have been kind and supportive, but she was also shrewd. There was no fooling Granny.
“I mean, we do a steady business, for the most part. We’re getting orders every day.”
“And?” she prodded.
“And … well, I do worry about cash flow now and then. You know, we had to spend a pretty penny restoring the place following the uh, incidents, last spring.” Besides the murder, there’d been a fair amount of destruction and vandalism in both our shop and the greenhouse.
Granny nodded. “Your mama told me insurance covered most but not all of your losses.”
“That’s right. And then, of course, we had to buy some things to get the café ready. But I’m not worried that much. I think the café will boost our income. Plus, there’s this!” I pointed to my window display. “It’s meant to ensure good luck. See? We have lucky bamboo and fast-growing ivy. And these flowers are known to represent wealth and good fortune.”
“Hmm,” said Granny. “Is that right? I didn’t know those were lucky flowers.”
“Well, maybe it depends on who you ask. But they seem lucky to me.”
“Where’s your four-leaf clovers? Where’s your acorns and lucky pennies?” She looked doubtfully at the bamboo plant. “Maybe some healing herbs would make more sense in these parts.”
“Great idea!” I said quickly. Granny had been teaching me about bad omens and lucky charms my whole life. I hoped I didn’t offend her by getting it all wrong. “I want to start incorporating herbs in some of our bouquet arrangements anyway. I think it fits with the edible flower theme.”
Calvin came out of the backroom with Gus at his heels and joined us up front. “Is anybody getting hungry for lunch yet? I couldn’t help noticing Granny brought—”
He was interrupted by a shrill scream. We all jumped, and Gus barked, as Wanda came running out of the hall bathroom, covering her head with her hands.
“Land sakes! It came straight for my scalp!”
We all stared at her. “What did?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
“What happened?” said Granny.
“A bird! I don’t know what kind. Some sort of mad, crazy bird!” Wanda was dancing in circles, as if trying to shake off the heebie-jeebies.
Granny rushed up to her and clasped both her arms, effectively halting her in place. “Take a breath, Wanda. Tell us what happened.”
She took a deep, shuddering inhale and pointed to the bathroom door. “I opened the window in there. For fresh air, you know. I was just washing up, reapplying my lipstick and whatnot, when out of nowhere a bird flies in the window.”
Granny paled at this news and let go of Wanda’s arms.
“Is it still in there?” I asked. “The poor thing must be scared.”
“I think it wanted my hair for its nest,” said Wanda. “It flew right at me!”
Calvin grabbed a broom and headed for the bathroom.
“Don’t hurt it!” I called after him.
“I’m just going to shoo it out the window,” he said, closing the door behind him. Gus scratched at the closed door, evidently wanting to help.
“Why don’t you sit down,” suggested Deena to Wanda. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
Wanda nodded and took a seat in the café room. I set out glasses for both Wanda and Granny, while Deena took out a pitcher of lemon water from the fridge behind the small café counter.
“Are you okay, Granny?” I asked, leading her to the chair across from Wanda. For some reason, Granny now appeared more shaken than Wanda.
She removed her straw hat and wiped her forehead. “I’m fine.” She took a sip of water, then directed a disapproving gaze at Wanda. “Why’d you have to go and open a window with no screen? It only invites trouble.”
Wanda frowned right back at Granny. “It’s not my fault that silly bird flew inside.”
“Well, you know what it means, don’t you?” said Granny.
At first, Deena and I followed their exchange in confusion. But with Granny’s last words it was dawning on me what had her so upset.
“Oh,” said Wanda shortly. “You don’t think…?” She trailed off and covered her mouth with her hand.
“I do think,” said Granny soberly.
“But it’s just an old wives’ tale,” protested Wanda.
“What is?” asked Deena. “What are you worried about?”
Granny shook her head, then looked from Wanda to Deena and me. “Sorry to say this, girls, but it’s bad news. If a bird flies in the window, it means someone is going to die. Someone in this very house.”
Copyright © 2021 by Jennifer David Hesse.
