Then promised to see him Sunday in church.
Today, she opened a box of early-readers books that had been delivered, and on top, staring up at her in big, vintage, circa-1970s yellow letters was The Berenstain Bears and the Truth. The same book her grandmother had given her that first summer Harper had moved in. She had just turned nine, was heartbroken over her mom missing her birthday party, and devastated to learn Gloria wasn’t coming back. So when the neighbor kids had asked where her mom was, she’d lied and said she was “filming a movie in Paris with Johnny Depp.”
To be fair, Gloria had been dating a guy named Johnny at the time who was the director of a small production of Oklahoma in Paris—Missouri. And it had sounded more exciting than the truth: her mother hadn’t loved her enough to stay.
Harper slapped the box lid closed and shoved the books under the counter, then busied herself with organizing the antique lace bibs on the front display.
The Fashion Flower was the one-stop shop for everything kids and crafty in wine country. The high-end kids’ clothing appealed to the fashion-forward mommy, while the one-of-a-kind handcrafted styles allowed even the smallest of wallflowers to feel unique.
For Harper, though, this shop was about more than popsicle-stick ornaments and kiddie couture. She had done her best to create a space that inspired adventure and imagination, and encouraged children to explore their identity. To make bold choices.
Harper had been bold with Chantel, promising something she had no idea how to deliver. Then she’d gone and made it worse by lying.
“Lying is much harder to keep track of than the truth,” she mumbled, repeating what she told her students.
Telling herself it wasn’t a lie, just an omission of truth—because that sounded so much better—she stacked the lavender bibs on the top shelf. She was reaching for the poppy-colored ones when the bell on the door jingled and in walked her first customer of the day.
“Welcome to the Fashion Flower,” Harper chimed in her sunniest voice. “We have lots blooming today.”
Harper looked up and her stomach took a dive-bomb.
Francesca DeLuca, formerly Frankie Baudouin—as in Adam’s sister—stood in the doorway. She wore black combat boots, black jeans, and a black tank top that said I BUST MINE SO I CAN KICK YOURS across the front. She also had a fuzzy alpaca on a leash.
“You got any of those Monkey Munchkin teething toys?”
“They’re in the baby boutique section.”
“Thanks,” Frankie said as she and the alpaca located them in seconds. She cleaned out every single ring and headed to the cash register, dropping a dozen of them on the counter.
“Didn’t you buy a case of these last month?” Harper asked, ringing up the order.
“Yeah, but Blanket here goes through them when he’s stressed.” Frankie took one of the rings out of the packet and gave it to Blanket. “Don’t you, boy?”
Rump wagging with glee, Blanket took the teething ring with his big horse teeth and rolled it around in his mouth. A low hum filled the room.
“You should ask Peggy at the Paws and Claws Day Spa if she has a chew toy he can’t eat through.” Harper rang up the last one and put them in a decorated paper bag, then tied the handles with a big blue bow.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Peggy sells those indestructible dog toys.”
“Blanket isn’t a dog,” Frankie corrected. And her eyes? They skewered. “And he’s only going through so many rings because his daddy and I have been hoping for another and he’s been feeling left out.”
“You’re getting another alpaca?” Harper asked because Frankie already had three. Blanket and his alpaca family lived in a custom-made habitat, which was spitting distance from Frankie and Nate’s place. Complete with bedrooms, a splashing pool, and a reading loft, it was bigger than Harper’s apartment.
“No,” Frankie said as if questioning Harper’s sanity. “Nate and I are trying for a . . .” She mouthed baby and pointed at her flat belly.
“Oh my God.” Harper clapped her hands. “You’re going to have a baby?”
“What part of me not saying the word in front of Blanket did you miss?” Frankie threw a few bills on the table. “And yes, that’s the plan. The universe just needs to catch up.” Frankie put her hands over Blanket’s ears and, even though his humming had grown to white noise, she lowered her voice. “We’ve been trying since last fall. And, don’t get me wrong, the trying is fun—Nate makes everything fun—but I want to get to the next part.”
Harper’s heart went out to the couple. It might have seemed like everyone was pregnant lately, but she’d met so many women since working at the Fashion Flower who’d struggled with getting pregnant on a timeline. It was frustrating and stressful and Harper could tell that Frankie didn’t need someone else telling her things like “It will come in its own time” or “Everything happens for a reason.” That would only dismiss her fears.