The Flower Arrangement Read Online Free PDF Page A

flowers fit into that gap somehow, in all its beauty and complexity, the way the magnolia tree fit into the tiny suburban garden.
    Her heart lifted as she walked back to her van, then sank a little as she began the drive back into town to make the final delivery. The one she had left till last.
    *   *   *
    Her dad had taken her for an extravagant lunch to celebrate after Lara had paid him back. She had wanted to invite Michael and Phil along but he was having none of it. “Bring that pair into a Michelin-starred restaurant? Don’t be daft. Michael would trample mud all over the carpet and Phil would show up dressed like a bloody Hell’s Angel. Anyway, it’ll do my street cred some good to be seen out in a posh nosherie with a glamorous woman.”
    â€œHardly glamorous, Dad,” Lara had sighed, but she had dressed up for the occasion, the way her mother would have. Swapped her shop thermals and jumpers and jeans for an elegant blue jersey dress, worn high shoes.
    Afterward, they walked across Merrion Square to where she’d parked, stopping to admire the flowers in the brightly planted beds. Her dad walked her to the Holles Street gate, then stopped and took her arm and gently turned her around to face him.
    For a long time he had looked years younger than he really was. Then, in his mid-sixties, he had started to look his age. Now, every year, her brother looked more like the dashing dark-haired father she remembered from her childhood, and her father looked like her grandfather did in photographs. His hair was thinning on top, silvering at the temples. His skin, always tanned from the golf course, was deeplylined. Only his eyes were unchanged. Dark as her own, sparkling now with the wine he’d drunk at lunch and a touch of mock annoyance. He’d been trying to persuade her for most of the afternoon that the money she’d paid back was a gift.
    â€œMake an old man happy.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Let me put it into a deposit account with your name on it.”
    â€œWe’ve been through this,” she sighed. “And you’re not old! You’re mature.”
    â€œLike a cheese, and you, you’re like your mother.” He shook his head. “You won’t do what I want but you give me the brush-off so elegantly that I’m happy anyway. I suppose the money doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re happy. You
are
happy”—he looked at her closely—“aren’t you?”
    â€œOf course I am.” She smiled. “I wake up wanting to go to work. I think that’s about as good as it gets.”
    â€œYou’ve done a great job with the shop. You should be very proud of yourself.” He cleared his throat, a signal that he was straying onto uncomfortable ground but that he was determined to give it to her straight—the way he had when he told her about periods, and later, when he asked her if she needed to go on the pill. He had never shied away from any of the conversations she would have had with her mother, no matter how hard they were for him.
    He looked pointedly at the maternity hospital across the street and Lara felt a flutter of anxiety. Please! No! she thought.
    â€œWork is all very well, but it isn’t enough. Kids are what give life meaning, Lara. I wouldn’t have wanted to go on if it hadn’t been for you and Phil. I hope that’s not, what do they call it these days, too much information?”
    Lara shook her head, hoping that was it, but he went on.
    â€œI know you had your heart broken into a million pieces over there.” He nodded at the hospital. “I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it. But some women are meant to be mothers, and what happened doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of them. You know,when your mother and I were dragging our heels about having another baby, you invented an imaginary one of your