It’s a last-minute Serendib House Valentine’s sale! 30% off my jewelry, confections, candles, and my little garden romance, _Perennial_, a mix of fiction and poetry. (Might add some more items in the next few days!) Sale ends 2/16.
Please note that while I’ll try to get these out as quickly as possible, if you order after February 2/7, I can’t guarantee they’ll ship to arrive in time for Valentine’s.
*****
“Can I help you?” The woman in the front section of Devan McLeod’s garden shop had been wandering aimlessly about the store for a full twenty minutes. Usually he tried not to pester the customers; after eleven years in America, he still hadn’t dropped all of his more reserved habits. His Scottish father had been the strong, silent type, but his Indian mother came from shopkeeper roots, and he could just hear her scolding him now. Take care of your customers, son, and they’ll take care of you. He really ought to Skype them; it’d been too long.
“I’m sorry,” she said, blinking up at him. January in Oak Park meant that she had entered his shop swathed in what his wife had called sleeping bag coats – the kind of puffy coat that covered you from head to ankles. But Devan kept the shop warm and humid, for the customers as well as the plants, and the woman had already unbuttoned her coat, stuffed gloves in her pocket, and unwrapped her scarf, revealing brown curls, bright blue eyes, and a mouth that looked like it wanted to smile. “I don’t really know what I want – your window just looked so lovely.”
“I try,” Devan said, smiling. January meant paperwhites and amaryllises, and his shop window featured a splendid array of white blooms on tall green stalks, supported by graceful copper stakes. It had come out nicely, if he did say so himself. Manju had done all the displays, back in the day, but after five years without her, he’d developed his own style – a little more restrained, less exuberant than what she would have done. So far, the customers seemed to like it; the store was still paying its bills, at a time when many others had gone under. Most small businesses survived on the tiniest of profit margins…
*****
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