Sunbeams - Part Fourteen
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
I’m just straightening up behind the counter when Kent pushes open the door of the flower shop. I set the box of flowers down and push the sleeve of my flannel back, checking my watch as he closes the door after himself.
“Forty-five minutes late, boss?” I call out, leaning into my palms on the counter. “That’s not very Kent of you. Aren’t you the one usually giving me lectures about timeliness?”
“Busy - busy morning,” he mumbles, a little out of breath.
He blows right past me without stopping, striding quickly for the back of the shop. But I catch a glimpse of the look on his face as he goes by. I actually think I hear him humming softly under his breath.
“Wow, you’re in a good mood.” I arch a suspicious eyebrow as he hastily stuffs his bag into the back room. “Why was your morning so busy? What were you doing?”
Kent pointedly ignores the question. He pulls on his gloves, hurries over to join me on the opposite side of the counter. He reaches into the box of flowers I’ve been working off of and takes out a handful. Glances at the flower arrangements that I’ve started, then swiftly starts putting together one of his own.
His lip is twitching as he works, like he’s actively trying to keep back a giant smile. One corner of his mouth is quirked up, but he’s biting on the inside of his cheek, trying to pass it off as a look of intense concentration.
I drop my eyes to the bouquet he’s making, startled by how fast his fingers are working, weaving everything together. He’s got the soggy, broken leaves stripped from the stems and put aside in a little heap already.
He’s practically vibrating with energy, his dark brown eyes bright and warm and wide awake. A distant, dreamy smile is slowly starting to take over his face.
My phone buzzes on the counter with a text from Aiden. I glance down and read it before the notification can go dark.
Companion Plant 🍃 10:06 AM: Btw, turns out it was okay that I didn’t finish up all that work stuff last night. Gabby texted me before I even got to City Hall and rescheduled the meeting we were supposed to have this morning. Said she had something come up.
“What?” Kent asks distractedly, when he hears the sputtering laugh I let out.
I break into a big grin, tossing some flower scraps into the compost jar. “I know why you’re late. I have intel from my inside sources at City Hall.”
“What the f-? Oh, my god.” Kent looks up and flashes me a dark glare, shoving his glasses further up his nose with the back of his wrist. “Why did we think it was a good idea for two of our employees to - you know what? We need a policy against interdepartmental dating.”
“Between City Hall and the flower shop?” I laugh, grinning widely at him. “Okay. Good luck with that one. You realize that also means you and Gabby couldn’t date?”
“The bosses get to do what they want,” Kent growls, aggressively stabbing a tulip at me to emphasize each word. “It’s - mafia rules! Those apply to flower shops, too.”
I let out another laugh, and Kent’s frown twitches, nearly spills over into a smile before he gets control of it again.
“You know, Ellen pretends to be grumpy about stuff, just like you do,” I inform him, pointing at the scowl on his face. “Just like that. It’s actually adorable, how much she does it just like you.”
Kent pauses, his eyes flitting up to my face.
All at once, the supposedly irritated frown dissolves into an irrepressible smile. Kent lets out a helpless laugh, dropping his gaze back to what he’s doing.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs affectionately, with love humming through his deep voice.
He stays silent for a moment, then gives his head a little shake, starts working again.
“Where’s Des?” he asks, swiftly rearranging the stems in his hands. “She go out to make a delivery?”
“No, remember? She and Rasheem are heading out of town for a poetry slam happening tomorrow. She’s marked out on the schedule.”
Kent looks up in surprise, glancing at the shift schedule pinned up behind the counter.
“Oh my god, I forgot - wait, is that why you’re still here, Jamie?” Kent’s eyes snap back to my face, widening with alarm. “Didn’t you come in at dawn to meet the delivery truck?”
I try to fight back a deep yawn, leaning tiredly into my hands. “Mhm, I did.”
“So I kept you waiting forty minutes past the end of your shift?” Kent stares at me in dismay. “Aw, man, I thought Des would be here to take over for you! Fuck, I’m sorry-”
“Oh, don’t be sorry,” I interrupt quickly, fixing Kent with a bright smile. “It’s definitely worth it to see you like this, man.”
Kent blinks hard at me, then shakes his head and gets back to work on his bouquet.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, in an exasperated voice.
But he flashes me a swift, warm, grateful look.
I stop what I’m doing, finding myself watching Kent instead. I haven’t seen him move this fast at his work in a while, or with such total concentration. His fingers are sculpting the bouquet like they already know where everything is going, his eyes intent and focused.
Shafts of sunlight late-morning sunlight are spilling into the shop, turned pale green in the leafy, plant-filled room. But Kent’s face is lit up purely from within, practically glowing. And this bouquet is probably the most beautiful piece of work I’ve seen him create in a long time.
So I hate to interrupt him, but I kind of have to.
“Hey, um - boss?” I nod at the bouquet he’s working on. “What are you making?”
Kent answers without looking up at me, carefully adding a flower to the center. “What do you mean? A bouquet.”
“Okay, but-” I pull off my glove and hold up the order sheet, so he can see the photo that’s paper-clipped to it. “This design is what the client asked for, in their consultation. There’s not even a bouquet in that order, it’s all centerpieces.”
Kent stops and looks up at the photo, taken completely by surprise. Then he looks down at the bouquet in his hands, which looks nothing like the pre-planned design.
“Oh, these flowers - these are for an order, not for the readymade coolers,” he realizes out loud, then slaps his own forehead, remembering all at once. “Yeah, the bat mitzvah order! Oh my god, good thing we ordered extras! I fucking forgot…”
Kent trails off, then slowly takes off his gloves and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans. He runs his fingers over his beard, gazing down at the bouquet he made, grasping it in one hand.
It’s a cascading mass of vivid wildflowers, in shades of ruby, midnight blue, sienna orange, and shining gold. Wild roses with soft velvet petals at the heart of everything, a core from which all the rest flows out. Something about that gives the bouquet a sort of swirling, spinning movement, even with Kent holding it still. Like an explosion of pure flame, or like a galaxy.
Kent is staring down at it like he doesn’t know where it came from, or how it ended up in his hands. There’s an almost startled expression on his face.
“I - sorry, man,” he says slowly, still gazing down at the bouquet. “I’m a little, um - scatterbrained today, I guess…”
“That’s not it, but it’s okay.” I fold my elbows on the counter, biting back a smile, and nod at the bouquet. “I’ve done the same thing before, when I was thinking of Aiden.”
Kent slowly lifts his eyes to me, looking faintly embarrassed. He breathes out a helpless laugh, tipping his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Jesus Christ,” he says weakly, closing his eyes as he sets the bouquet on the counter. “Swear it’s like I can’t think of anything but her, today.”
“I can tell,” I laugh.
“Except for Ellen, obviously. I’m never not thinking about Ellen. But you know what I mean.”
I twist the heist ring around my finger, smiling as I take in the glowing look on Kent’s face. “Mhm, I do.”
Kent puts his hands on his hips and lifts his head. Stops to take a slow, deep breath, then opens his eyes again.
“Okay.” He forcefully yanks his gloves back on, then picks up the order form to study the picture. “I’m focused, I can do it. Just - I’m feeling really glad that she said yes when I asked her to move in with me. That’s all. Feels like a whole different house, with her there.”
I find myself smiling happily and affectionately at Kent as he takes a few more flowers out of the box and starts on a centerpiece.
I hesitate, then glance over my shoulder at the thick manila envelope resting on the back counter. Sinking silently into my thoughts.
It feels so good to see Kent so completely, overflowingly happy like this. To the point he can’t hide it. I really don’t want to do anything that might knock him off of the cloud he’s floating on, but at the same time… this might actually be the best time to give it to him. Now, when he’s in such a good and bright headspace.
I glance at him searchingly, then pull off my gloves.
“Hey,” I begin slowly, reaching for the envelope. “This, um. This was in the shop mail, when I came in this morning.”
I slide the heavy envelope across the counter to Kent, who pulls off his gloves again and looks down at it curiously.
“Seed packet samples?” he asks, flipping it over. “Wow. We just ordered these. They got here early.”
I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “Nope, not that.”
The envelope is addressed specifically to Kent, not to the shop. And I recognized the name of the sender when I picked it up. I think Kent probably gave her this address because sometimes Ellen gets curious and opens up the mail at his house.
I didn’t recognize the last name on the envelope, because she didn’t say it when she introduced herself to me. But it only took reading the first name - Naomi - to make my mind flash back to Gabby’s friend. The specialist in childhood behavior who came over to Kent’s house and observed one of my science classes with Ellen. She had asked me some questions about her, then spoke with Ellen and Kent, too.
Gabby thought that Naomi might have some answers for us about why Ellen has been struggling so much at school. She said she’d be in touch when she had something to tell Kent.
I can tell from the very serious, startled expression that sweeps over Kent’s face that he recognizes the name, too.
He freezes, staring down at the thick manila envelope in his hands with wide eyes.
“Oh,” he murmurs, his voice growing quiet. “I - kinda thought she would just send me an email.”
There’s a hint of a question in his voice. He looks up at me with baffled eyes, holding the envelope up to show me how heavy it is, how much paper must be inside.
“Yeah,” I answer slowly, fidgeting with the sleeve of my flannel. “I thought about it, and I think Naomi probably did it this way because she included some literature for you about whatever the - whatever it turned out to be.”
“Oh,” Kent says again, speaking even slower than I am. “So - so, there’s…”
He fades off, but I can tell from his expression and the perfect stillness of his body that we’re thinking the same thing.
The envelope means that there is an answer, and Naomi knows what it is.
Kent blinks down at the envelope in silence, then swallows quietly.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve been so fucking afraid of this moment,” he says abruptly, his hands tightening their grasp on the envelope. “Part of me didn’t want to know. Part of me was ready to argue with whatever answer anybody gave me about this. Pretty much just deny it.”
I had been reaching for my gloves, intending to give him time to think, but now I stop and stare at him, more than a little thrown off. By what he said, and the suddenly hoarse voice he said it in.
“What? Kent, why?”
“I don’t know.” He gives his shoulders a small shrug, keeping his gaze lowered away from mine. “I felt so guilty thinking about it, felt like - if there’s really something to explain the problems Ellen has been having, some diagnosis or whatever… then everything she’s been through is my fault.”
“What-?” I draw back in alarm, startled beyond belief. “No it isn’t, Kent, don’t even say that! What the hell do you even mean?”
“Because…” Kent is speaking faster and faster, his voice a breathless rush. “I’m her dad. If there was something, I should have known. I should have been able to figure it out. Who knows her better than I do? She’s just a kid, she can’t explain it. She needed me to see it, and I should have seen it, but I didn’t. And if I hadn’t missed the signs, I could’ve taken her to someone like Naomi sooner, found ways to help her so much sooner…”
I can only stare silently at Kent, blank-faced, taken completely aback. He fades off, swallows again, takes a breath before he keeps going.
“And I… I just love Ellen so much. I don’t want anybody to tell me that some things are always going to be harder for her than they will be for everyone else. Inevitably. I just don’t want to hear that, I don’t want it to be true. I want to hear that I can fix everything for her. Make it easy again.”
I blink hard at Kent, my heart aching. I very slowly reach across the counter, gently squeeze his shoulder.
He glances up at me very quickly, shakes his head, and looks down at the envelope again.
“I knew that when this moment came, I’d have to figure out how to talk to Ellen about it. How to change my parenting around it. Decide whether or not to put her in a new school that might be better for her. Whether or not I need to talk to her teachers about it. I need to figure out how to help her through it the best way I can, in the ways that are best for her. It’s - scary. Because I don’t want to mess it up. I can’t mess this up.”
He stops and takes a deep breath.
“The shit is so overwhelming sometimes, Jamie. Some days I feel like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. And I’ve been trying to make all of these big decisions all by myself, for what feels like so fucking long, but now…”
Kent looks up at me again, and I draw back in immense surprise.
There’s a small, glowing smile flickering around his mouth.
“But now Gabby’s here,” he murmurs, squeezing the envelope. “That - pretty much changes everything.”
I stare at Kent in startled silence as his eyes flit from the envelope to the bouquet he made, its cascading lengths spilling down over the counter. The little smile in his eyes brightens.
“I finally caved and told Gabby how I felt about all this after Naomi’s visit,” he murmurs. “I sure as hell didn’t plan to admit one word of it to her, but I was also dying to talk to her about it, and it just came out. And it was for the best, because then we did talk about it, and she just… totally changed the way that I’ve been looking at things.”
Kent’s eyes grow warm with deep affection as they linger on the flowers.
“She has a real gift for doing that, you know?” he adds.
I nod silently, a small smile starting to turn up my mouth.
“I don’t know how, but she got me thinking more about the future than the past. Got me to stop - blaming myself so much.” Kent rests his hands on the counter and looks down at them, his voice steadying out. “She made it pretty clear that what’s most important is how I approach this with Ellen now.”
“What did she say?” I finally manage.
“That I can start by just telling Ellen about this in the right way. Tell her it’s not a bad thing, that it’s part of what makes her unique and special. That it’s always been part of the person she is, a person who we all love to pieces. Explain that this is why some stuff has been hard for her, that the problems she’s been having aren’t her fault. And - tell her that I’ll always be there to help her with the stuff that trips her up. For as long as she needs me, anyways.”
I absorb that in silence for a moment, staring across the counter at Kent.
“Gabby is right,” I answer firmly, when I get my voice back.
Kent lets out a soft, helpless laugh.
“As always,” he and I say in tandem, then grin at each other.
Kent drops his gaze back down to the envelope, then carefully sets it aside on the counter.
I blink at him in surprise, watching him pull his gloves back on. “Don’t you want to open it?”
“Not right now.” His eyes are already back on his work, his hands and voice completely steadied out. “Think I need Gabby to be there when I do that.”
I nod slowly, half in disbelief about how calmly Kent is handling this. Just - absorbing this, then going on with his day. Kent, whose resting facial expression involves a worried little crease between his eyebrows.
“Holy shit,” I mutter in amazement, pulling my own gloves back on. “Having Gabby there really does change everything.”
“Man, in more ways than I can even count up.” Kent flashes a smile at me over the centerpiece he’s working on. “For Ellen, too. That’s part of what’s making me feel okay about everything. I mean - Ellen has Gabby around. All the time, now. Can’t think of a more perfect woman for her to look up to. She’ll be just fine.”
I break into a full-on grin, and Kent laughs when his eyes flit up to mine.
As he and I both fall silent and get down to work on the centerpieces, it gradually dawns on me that the atmosphere in the shop has changed, too.
The shop has always felt like a second home to me, and I’ve always loved working here. It’s fun working here, because it’s been me, Des, and Kent for as long as I can remember. We’re three people who always have a good time together, something that shows in the energy of the shop. We fit a lot of laughter in between customers.
It’s not like that stopped after Kent and Julia’s relationship started falling apart. Or - it did, but not forever.
There was a stretch of time when Kent was coming into work every day with exhausted, miserable, deeply anxious eyes. Silently getting through the day without really talking to me or Des. Occasionally disappearing into the back for a while to have a hushed argument on his phone, then coming back out with wet eyelashes and taking off early.
The laughter in the shop grew quiet and a lot less frequent, during that.
Then there was a stretch of time where he didn’t come in at all.
After he came back, things very, very gradually got back to something like the way they were, until the atmosphere in the shop felt bright again. Kent slowly started smiling again, and then laughing again, especially when Ellen had reason to be at the shop with him.
But he’s always been much more serious and quiet, since then. Something in his eyes has been making him look a little older than he looked before. And the atmosphere of the shop has adjusted slightly for it.
The three of us still get up to silly shit for no reason, but sometimes it ends with Kent giving me and Des a telling-off about being more professional. Sometimes he looks like he wants to join in, but he’s just too tired to participate. And sometimes things that seem like small problems to me and Des set off an explosion of anxiety from Kent until they’re solved.
I look at Kent now, thinking about how he’s been laughing so easily today. The way he used to laugh, before.
I narrow my eyes at him, calculating.
Thinking I might run a little experiment.
I scoop up my phone and change the music playing over the speakers in the shop. Casually switch the song to Trevor Moore’s Gays Got Married, then get right back to work as the first strums of the guitar begin to play.
Kent keeps working without noticing for a minute, but he blinks hard as the lyrics of the song begin to get progressively more and more ridiculous. More and more about making out with cute guys.
Kent looks up at me with one eyebrow arched, and I cast him an innocent smile, like - what?
Kent straightens up and takes a breath like he’s about to launch into a lecture.
Then he lets out a sudden burst of laughter instead, shaking his head in irritation.
He groans deeply, swats at me across the counter, and I laugh as I dodge it.
“For fuck’s sake, Jamie! Change it back!”
“Why, what’s wrong with this song?”
“Oh, my god.” Kent comes striding around the counter to snag my phone and disconnect the Bluetooth. “A customer is gonna walk in and hear this, and I want you to know I’m hanging your goofy ass out to dry when that happens - Jamie!”
I dart underneath his arm as he tries to catch me, clutching my phone to my chest, shouting along to the lyrics. “And as strong and straight as I know I am, every man can be pushed too far!”
Kent lets out a startled laugh as he rushes after me, nearly knocking over one of the centerpieces. We do a very fast loop of the shop, narrowly avoiding some of the potted floor plants.
“Jamie, you dipshit, I’m gonna kill y-!” Kent cuts himself off and skids to a stop as his phone lights up on the counter. “Hang on, it could be from Gabby! It could be about-”
He runs over to his phone and breathlessly snatches it up. I stop behind him, and he tilts his phone so I can also read the text Gabby sent.
They’re going to air it, Kent!😊 I just saw the promo come up! It was a stupid promo, oh my god, so dramatic! Soto vs. Lyons, like it was a boxing match, ffs.
Another text pops up on Kent’s phone before I’m done reading the first one.
It’s gonna be on in like 2 hours, just in case you wanted to go home and watch any more of it. But no pressure, I know you already saw some! And no rush - it’s gonna run again at 6 PM. Good slot, according to Alix.😊
Kent’s phone buzzes softly, and I find myself once again in disbelief about how fast Gabby can type.
Ripley and I are at a meeting in Greenrock until the first airing, and he said he really wants to watch it, so we’re gonna stop and watch it in a restaurant I like here! And by restaurant I mean a pub, but don’t tell anyone that. And he’s twenty-one, if anyone asks.
“Oh my god,” Kent sputters, his face lighting up. “They’re gonna air it! No, wait, I want to be there when she sees herself - it’s on in two hours - shit, I don’t want to miss any-”
He breaks off, then whips around to face me.
“Jamie, I’m sorry, your shift was over forever ago, I know, but - can you watch the shop for a little longer? Just as long as it takes me to drive to Greenrock and then drive back two hours later, um - I’ll give you holiday pay, or I’ll take over some hours from your next shift - or, no, just close the shop - fuck, but the order-”
“Kent, it’s fine!” I laugh, waving my hands at him. “I can handle it, I’m happy to do it, just go do whatever it is you need to do!”
“Okay, yeah, I - I’ve gotta go if I’m gonna get there in time! Just close the shop when you’re done with the order!” Kent snatches up the envelope, then rushes to get his bag. “And change the fucking song!”
“No. How about that? No.”
“You’re fired!” he shouts, stabbing a finger at me.
“You’re hilarious!” I shout back, stabbing my finger at him.
Kent laughs, nearly tripping as he races for the door with his bag. “Hold down the fort!”
I turn back to the centerpieces I was working on, trying not to laugh again. “You’ve got it!”
I look up again with startled eyes when Kent comes rushing right back into the shop. Before I can say a word, he snatches up the bouquet he made, then drops his credit card on the counter.
“Apply my employee discount!” he calls over his shoulder, striding for the door again.
“It’s your shop, just take them!” I yell back.
But he’s already gone, the shop door closing after him with a soft jingle of the bell.
I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, trying to think of the last time I saw Kent with this much energy.
Struck with sudden curiosity, I reach for my phone and search up Soto vs. Lyons.
A promo video posted by a news outlet pops up. Presumably the one that Gabby mentioned. I plug in my headphones and hit play.
The video description says something about a debate, but Gabby was right - it is sort of like a promo video for a boxing match or something. The video kicks off with a dramatic, huge graphic that reads - TONIGHT! Intense rock music with a pounding drumbeat plays over it, something that could go over a battle scene in a movie,
The next words pop up one by one, shaking each other. SOTO. VS. LYONS.
Two images slam onto the screen from either side, two figures. On the left, a silver-haired man in a grey suit, with a serious, slight frown on his face. His head is tilted to the side, arms at his sides.
On the right is Gabby. Standing tall, her face tilted up, her arms confidently folded over her chest. Golden bangles dangling from her wrist, her bangs pinned back but her long hair down. There’s a subtle smile turning up the corners of her mouth, glowing in her eyes as she gazes off into the distance.
She looks ready to kick some ass. Like a warrior who really does fit the music. Brimming with fearless fire, her eyes full of intelligence and light.
“Oh, I know who won this debate,” I murmur beneath my breath, around a quiet laugh.
The voiceover is saying something about tackling the tough issues, but I’m not really listening. I’m looking at Gabby. Thinking of what Kent said about Ellen having someone like Gabby around to look up to.
She’ll be just fine.
I text the link to the video to Aiden. Your boss is a badass, just so you know. Then I set my phone aside and pick up my gloves to get back to work, smiling to myself. Kent is right, even if he didn’t give himself enough credit in the equation.
Between Kent and Gabby, no matter what’s in that envelope, Ellen’s gonna be just fine.
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