Roses are Dead

Chapter 1

Fat raindrops thudded against the window panes and thunder shook the rafters of Bloomers. Water poured in through cracks in the shingles and ran into rivulets across the white painted floor tile. Skye sighed, dropping another rag onto the floor and beginning to mop up yet another lake.

"Well, look at this way, at least now we don't have to water the flowers."

Skye straightened up and tucked a loose strand of fair hair behind her ear as she grinned at the owner of the voice. Eighteen-year-old Daniel Marshall slid around the counter and knelt beside her with a fistful of paper towels. The youth smiled at his own joke as Skye took the papers from him, chuckling.

"You mean you don't have to water the flowers," she retorted. "That is your job after all. That's what I pay you for."

"I'd be inclined to agree," Daniel stood up and backed off with the wet towel in hand, still grinning. "But you don't pay me, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Skye called after him as he disappeared around a corner into the back of the shop. "You never let me!" She laughed, shaking her head as she collected the paper towels and tossed them in the wastebasket on the way to her desk. She grabbed a large plastic covering and threw it over her desktop, praying that the leaky ceiling wouldn't give way anywhere else. She took a deep breath and quieted herself down, straining her ears for the faint echoes of raindrops sliding inside her roof. She'd been meaning to get the tiles on the shop fixed for a while now but had never had the time to do so, and now her reluctance was coming back with a vengeance.

The phone rang. Hastily, she leaned over the desk to grab the cordless. "Hello, Bloomers. This is Skye."

Daniel poked his head around the corner curiously. Skye saw him out of the corner of her eye and motioned for him to continue cleaning up the water. He did so disappointedly. Skye watched him as a woman's voice could be heard over the other end of the phone.

"Hello, Ms. Beckman. This is Cathy Highland from over at Lucky Horseshoe."

"Of course." Skye grinned, recognizing the woman's southern accent almost immediately. Cathy had been a close friend and rival for as long as Skye could remember. Both of their stores, Bloomers and Lucky Horseshoe specialized in gardening equipment but the Lucky Horseshoe, as its name suggested, also sold bridals, girths, and saddles. Many years ago, when Skye's daughter had been much younger, they'd gone to Cathy's shop to purchase their first equipment for Anna's horseback riding lessons. Skye and Cathy had quickly developed a bond over flowers and all things agriculture and Cathy had even managed to talk Skye into helping out occasionally at the yearly harvest festival. "How are you, Cathy? And you know you don't have to call me 'Ms. Beckman'. We've been friends far too long for that."

"I know," Cathy laughed. "Force of habit, I suppose. I was just wondering if you happened to have any chrysanthemums left. I know how quickly those tend to sell out, but I was hoping I might be able to snag a couple for my daughter's birthday party next week."

"Yes, of course," Skye searched the desk for a notebook and a pen. "I do have a few left. How many would you like?"

"If you have four, I'll take them."

As Skye took down the order, Daniel snuck over and began gesturing frantically toward the back half of the store. She stared at him, trying to decipher what he was saying.

"By the way, is that young man still helping around the shop? It's not often nowadays that the next generation steps up to help us old cronies."

Skye laughed. "Yes, Daniel is right here, and either he is determined to win a game of charades I wasn't aware we were playing, or he's found another leak."