never going to look at this counter the same way again.”
“Teasing me now—oh my God, just move!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And as he complied, he knew neither of them was going to look at the counter the same way.
Darcy stepped into the small garden center located in the middle of concrete and steel and smiled. Color and scents surrounded her. This was one of her most favorite places in the city. Her fire escape was in need of some color, so she grabbed a cart and started down the aisle.
“You’re back. We just got in some climbing geraniums that are exquisite,” the sales associate called to her.
“Thanks, I’ll have to take a look at them.”
“The pots are all forty percent off too.”
“More pots, just what my fire escape needs.” The sales associate laughed in reply before she turned to help another customer.
Darcy wasn’t sure when she developed a love of gardening, but her world had been gray for so long that she craved the brilliance of color around her. Her fingers trailed over the soft petals of a petunia in the palest of pinks. It was a bit sad that her longest relationship was with the flower lady, but living with the revolving door that was her mother’s house, Darcy had come to crave the solitude. She had made a few friends in college, but Darcy kept them at a distance because of the embarrassment and shame of where she came from. Lucien was the only person whose company she had ever wanted.
Sister Anne had shared her love of gardening. Every week, Darcy had brought an arrangement to her sick room to bring a little of the outdoors inside. And even now, Darcy still brought flowers to brighten her grave. It was something small she could do, but it comforted her, even though the walk down memory lane was always bittersweet. Memories were likely all she was ever going to have when it came to Lucien Black—and where better to reminiscence than with the one person who loved him as much as she did?
Fourteen years earlier . . .
The room smelled like death. Darcy had heard that expression before, but never appreciated the meaning until now. The staleness in the air and the subtle scent of decay lingered and clung to everything. Sister Anne had lost so much weight that she was almost unrecognizable. Lucien was retrieving her lunch tray from the kitchen, not that Sister Anne was going to eat it.
Darcy walked to her dresser and placed the vase of freshly cut yellow and pink snapdragons where Sister Anne would see them.
“They’re beautiful, thank you, Darcy.”
“Oh, I thought you were asleep.”
“Please join me. I like the company.”
Darcy settled on the chair next to Sister Anne’s bed and tried not to show her discomfort, but it was hard to look at her; she was so different from the vital woman she had been. “Lucien’s getting your lunch.”
Tenderness washed over her face. “He’s been so wonderful.” Sister Anne’s bony hand reached for Darcy’s and held it with surprising force.
“He loves you.”
Embarrassment turned Darcy’s cheeks pink before she replied, “I love him.”
“He’ll need you when I’m gone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
An exhale that sounded more like a death rattle escaped Sister Anne’s throat. “Good. The road ahead isn’t going to be easy for either of you, but anything is possible when there’s love.” Sister Anne’s eyes moved from Darcy to the flowers.
“So simple and yet so comforting. If He can create something so beautiful in this life, then how can I fear what He has in store for me in the next?” Her gaze turned back to Darcy. “Thank you for the reminder.”
Lucien entered with Sister Anne’s tray and placed it on the table near her bed.
“Thank you, Lucien. I’m tired, but I promise I will eat something when I wake.”
“I’ll check on you later.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss on her forehead before he turned and reached for Darcy’s hand. She allowed him to pull her from the room and down the hall. When they reached a dark corner, he turned into her and wrapped her tightly into his arms. He buried his face in her neck and, though he said nothing, she could feel the tension in his body. They stood like that for quite some time before his head lifted to hers. She saw his pain reflected in his eyes.
“When she’s gone, you will be all I have left.” His words were a harsh whisper.