Chapter 38
“What brought you in?” the red head asked cheerfully as she handed Buffy the application for “The Secret Garden”.
Buffy blushed and smiled sheepishly. “I love flowers. Who doesn’t right? I’ve always been interested in working in a florists shop, being surrounded by such beauty and creating a whole arrangement of beauty for someone else. It just seems so peaceful and fun to me.”
“It is,” the girl beamed, “It really is. I mean not to say that it can’t be stressful at times, but that’s every job. Sometimes you get that desperate customer that is looking for that one specific thing that we don’t have and they’re in a rush and ugh, it can be a pain,” she wrinkled her nose in the most adorable manner before continuing, “Some are ever so thankful when you’re willing to work with them on what they want, and the delight and gratitude they have for the help you’re willing to give makes up for that initial grumpiness.”
“Well, there are bad seeds here and there, but the nice ones more than make up for it, I’m sure,” Buffy agreed.
“Oh, definitely! I mean, I don’t want to sound like some kind of nut, but I really do love this shop and my job. Sure it can be crazy, but a good kind of crazy.”
“Makes the time fly, and gets you out with people. Do you almost become like a bartender, hearing the stories behind the beer, so to speak?”
“Yes! It’s amazing. Men especially when they’re on their way to grovel.” The girl laughed, “They look for advice to go along with their gifts. Some I can tell are going to be all right, and others, not so much.”
Buffy laughed, “Oh, I can imagine. That must be fun.”
Extending her hand, the sparkling green eyed girl introduced herself, “I’m Willow Rosenberg.”
“Elizabeth Summers, but everyone calls me Buffy,” Buffy said, returning the handshake.
Coming around the counter that held a register, a few cards, stuffed animals, and a few arrangements, Willow gestured around the store. “Would you like me to show you around?”
Buffy nodded eagerly, “I’d like that.”
The shop itself was of medium size, with several coolers along the wall for the roses and other flowers that Buffy had yet to learn about. She was really hoping her lack of experience didn’t hinder her from acquiring the position and so she opted not to say she had no idea what some of the flowers were – not until she was asked.
The walls were green with a stencil of vines in a lighter green haphazardly strewn about – it gave a calming and curious affect, her eyes couldn’t help but try and follow the pattern and where they led. The music in the background was classical and on low, creating a sort of otherworldly feel to the place.
Willow explained that the arrangements were sectioned off by event: funeral, new baby, get well, anniversary, etc. That way, when a customer came in for a specific reason, she could show them the arrangements made specifically for that occasion. However, Willow explained, nothing was set in stone and certainly some arrangements were sold that held one intent, but were given for another intent altogether.
“I try to replace what I sold, certainly not always the same kind of arrangement, but I do write down what I put together because there are repeat customers that look for specific arrangements,” she explained.
“Are you online?” Buffy asked, fingering a freesia petal.
Willow sighed, “Sadly, no. I just don’t have the time to do it. I’m internet savvy to a point, but not that internet savvy. Are you?”
“Kind of,” Buffy shrugged. “I mean, I know all you’d have to do is take photos with a digital camera of the arrangements, make them look pretty on a page, and you’re good to go.”
“Maybe between the two of us, that would be something we could work on.”
Buffy stared at her. “What?”
Willow smiled. “Do you want the job?”
Buffy beamed and tried to contain herself from jumping up and down and clapping her hands in excitement. “Oh, yes, yes, I do!” Okay, so perhaps that was just as bad. The jumping up and down and clapping just would have been a bonus.
“Great, when can you start?”
There was that cold bucket of ice water again, raining on her parade. Spike. She was going to have to tell Spike and she knew he wasn’t going to be happy about it, even if he did say “If” she wanted a permanent position at the gallery it was hers. But, she really, really, really wanted this. Between living at her mother’s house, being with Spike, and working at the gallery, she felt as though she didn’t have anything that was hers. It was all her mother’s.
“Well, I have to give my notice to my other job…” Buffy explained. “And I think I should warn you now that I don’t have any experience in this sort of thing. Just the ideas I have in my head.”
Willow shook her head. “Buffy, what you lack in experience, you more than make up for in enthusiasm. If you’re willing to learn, I’m willing to teach.”
“I’m more than willing to learn.”
“Great. So, I’m looking for full time here, is that possible? I open at nine and I close at five, Monday through Friday. I open on the weekends, too, but I’m only open until two then. You wouldn’t be working every day, but you’d clear forty hours.”
“I definitely need that.”
“We’ll talk pay later, but can you do it?”
“I can. I just have to give my notice to my other job.”
“Where are you working now?”
“Summers Gallery.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Really? I used to make arrangements for the woman that owned it all time when she had a showing. So sad, she was such a nice lady.”
“She was my mother,” Buffy said quietly.
Willow gasped. “Oh, God, Buffy, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, really.”
“And the man who runs it now?”
“Uh, Spike, he’s um, my mother’s husband.”
“That poor man. They really worked well together. Every time I went in there, they were always laughing and smiling together.”
It was at that point that Buffy decided she was going to keep mum about her relationship with Spike. It didn’t help hearing how happy her mom and Spike were together. Now, not only did she have that guilt – minimal as it was now—but now she had jealousy. She was jealous of her mother now and her mother was dead. How fucked up was that? And besides, what would Willow think? Would she think she was sick? Would she be disgusted to learn that she was dating her dead mother’s husband?
Buffy was once again reminded of the safe bubble she’d been in at the facility where only Giles knew of her feelings for Spike and encouraged her relationship with him. He had admitted it was unconventional, and that some would not accept it as natural, but then Buffy hadn’t been concerned about others at the time, she had been grappling with it on her own. Now though, now she was worried about others and the thought filled her with guilt. Spike would be hurt if he knew…or did he have the same problem and just kept it quiet?
“Are you sure you want to leave there?” Willow asked, knitting her brows together in concern.
“Yeah, you know I need something of my own,” Buffy told her, jamming her hands in her pockets. “Spike doesn’t really need me; he only gave me the job to help me out.”
“I see. I can understand not wanting to be there like that. Memories and all.”
“Yeah, memories,” Buffy murmured, really wanting to get off this train of talking about her mom and Spike.
“So, two weeks? Is that long enough?”
Buffy cleared her throat before straightening and responding. “Sure, yeah, um, maybe even one, I’ll let you know.”
Willow grinned. “Great. Take my card with you and call me as soon as you work it out with your…stepfather?”
Buffy laughed nervously, if not a little maniacally. “Yeah, stepfather. Eight years difference between us and he’s my stepfather, weird, right?”
“Well at least he’s a cool stepfather then,” Willow offered hopefully.
“Oh, that he is.” Especially when his tongue is down my throat. Buffy shook her head. “All right, then. Thank you so very much Willow, you won’t be disappointed.
Willow grinned. “I don’t think I will be at all. See you soon, Buffy.”
Her new boss walked her out and Buffy took great delight in watching Willow take the Help Wanted sign down. She had a new job and it was all her own. She couldn’t wait.
********
Outside the gallery, Buffy heaved a tremendous sigh before going in. Not only was she giving her notice – and that sounded so much better than quitting – but she had also been gone for almost two hours. Spike was going to be livid.
Entering, the assistant Richard, looked at her and shook his head nodding toward the back. “He’s freaking out.”
“Oh?”
“He’s been wondering where–”
“Buffy!”
She turned toward Spike who was barreling over to her and she started to speak when he engulfed her in his arms. “Where were you? I was worried sick!”
“Spike–”
“You said you were going out for a bit, but you’ve been gone almost two hours now.” Smoothing her hair from her face, he leaned in and kissed her quickly, desperately. “Where did you go, hmmm?”
“I—I went to a shop,” she said, feeling slightly disoriented.
“You went shopping?” he knit his brows together. “I tried calling you.”
“I didn’t hear it.”
“Come here.” Taking her hand, Spike led her to the back of the gallery away from Richards inquiring eyes. “What’s wrong? Why did you go shopping?”
“I didn’t go shopping; I was in a florist’s shop.” And she pulled away from him, trying to get some breathing room. “Applying.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” heaving a sigh, she blurted out her news. “I have a new job. I’m giving my two weeks notice.”