Page 66 of Laced With Secrets

“It’s a nest,” Penny corrected. “And you love it. Admit it.”

I did love it. Loved this whole space. Loved that Dominic and I would make our home here, raise our baby here, build our life here.

“Okay, yes, I love the ridiculous beanbag,” I admitted. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Penny said, grinning.

The drive to Henderson’s Flower Shop took us through the Historical District at its most festive. Christmas lights were still strung up between lamp posts, wreaths remained on every door, and shop windows continued to glitter with garlands and artificial snow. Everything sparkled with holiday cheer, beautiful and welcoming.

It was hard to believe that fifty years ago, someone had murdered a pregnant omega and hidden his body beneath concrete. Hard to reconcile the picturesque charm with the darkness that still lurked, unsolved and unpunished.

“You okay?” Penny asked quietly from the passenger seat.

“Just thinking,” I said. “About Thomas. About the memorial speech.”

“You’ll find the right words,” Penny assured me.

Marcus eased the car to a stop along the curb near Henderson’s, where a steady stream of customers flowed in and out beneath the festive garlands framing the entrance.

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” I told Marcus, reaching for the door handle.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Want me to come in?”

“That is a pretty long list of supplies,” Jake said, fidgeting with his sleeve. “And you shouldn’t carry any heavy stuff.”

I nodded gratefully at Marcus as I pushed my door open, the cold winter air rushing in. “We’d appreciate the help,” I said. “Thank you.”

When we entered Henderson’s Flower Shop, Mrs. Henderson looked more frazzled than usual, her normally neat bun coming loose as she helped multiple customers simultaneously.

“Ah! Perfect timing.” She spotted us immediately despite the chaos. “Let me just finish with here, and I’ll get you those supplies.”

We waited while she rang up an elaborate carnation ands snowdrop arrangement, then moved to where she’d already prepared several boxes overflowing with spools of satin ribbon, frosted pinecones, preserved eucalyptus branches, delicate silver wire garlands, metallic silver vases, and commemorative bouquet wraps with the centennial logo.

Penny’s eyes danced with amusement as he gestured at the mountain of supplies. “Do you think it’s gonna be enough?”

Mrs. Henderson’s eyebrows arched skeptically as Marcus hefted the largest box.

“I think it should be fine,” I said.

The shop bell chimed, and I glanced over to see Paula Winslow entering. She looked lighter somehow than the last time I’d seen her—less burdened, despite being in her early seventies and having just lost the family business.

“Paula!” Mrs. Henderson called warmly. “Your centerpieces for the senior center party are ready. Let me just finish with Leo here.”

“Take your time, Judy,” Paula said, examining the flower arrangements with obvious pleasure.

Mrs. Henderson had me sign for the items and moved to help Paula with several boxes of elaborate floral bouquets—white flowers, silver accents, winter greenery.

“These are beautiful,” Paula said, examining them with delight. “Perfect for the cookie exchange.”

“Your bourbon balls are legendary,” Mrs. Henderson said, wrapping the arrangements carefully. “Last year, half of them disappeared before the exchange even started.”

“That’s because they’re delicious,” Paula laughed.

She turned and noticed us.

“Hi, Paula,” I said. “How are you?”

“Much better, actually.” Her lips curved into a genuine smile as her gaze drifted down to the gentle swell beneath my sweater. “I heard the happy news. Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”