XOXO, Violet by Ginger Li

6Violet

Ifinished pricing some of the newest succulents and arranged them on a table near the front of the shop. There were a couple of real beauties there, especially the Haworthia cooperi I’d already snapped photos of for the shop’s Instagram feed. Outside, the bright pink sky signaled that my shift was almost over. While Mermaid Cove typically had year-round mild weather, even we couldn’t escape winter’s shortened days. I stepped back and studied my display with a critical eye. One quick exchange of moonstones with living stones, and I had it.

Perfect.

“Why does technology hate me?” My aunt stood hunched over her iPad, her long black hair escaping the bun she’d placed there hours ago.

“Got it!” Joy set down the iPad and raised her hands overhead to do a little dance, causing even more strands to escape their hair tie.

“Man, those Monstera adansonii sure went fast.” She wrangled her hair back into a lopsided bun and stuck a pencil through it. “I was worried they wouldn’t do well. But you were right, Violet. Focusing on some of the rarer plants has made the shop stand out.”

Joy, Mom’s younger sister, preferred to be called by her first name. A single mom in her late twenties, she juggled online college courses with running her own plant shop and wrangling her two five-year-old boys, Jasper and Leo. They were twins, like Micah and me. Apparently, twins ran in our family.

“I’ll bet these Haworthias go fast too.” I admired the succulents’ gorgeous, translucent leaves. My guess was that Joy would have to place another order for them by the end of the week.

“Did you finish shooting your video?” Joy asked.

That was the other reason I loved my job. Not only did I get to work with plants all afternoon, but my aunt would also let me turn the back room into a makeshift studio to shoot videos. “Yup. I got two done. One’s on rare cacti, and the other is on low-light-loving plants. With Christmas right around the corner, I’m making videos about gifts to give to plant lovers or novices.”

When I first started my channel, I hadn’t planned on sharing my Shy Plant Girl identity with anyone. But the channel quickly grew, so I’d ended up telling my family because I needed their help with editing and marketing. Recently, I’d also revealed my secret to Olivia and Piper. Both were incredibly supportive of my work; they even helped me package orders sometimes.

“I really enjoyed that last one you made on propagation. It was fascinating to see the time-lapse progression of the roots. Even the boys found that one interesting.”

I chuckled. That video had been a pain and a half to tape and a monster to edit. “Yeah, Micah outdid himself with that one.”

Joy grabbed a broom and began sweeping behind the counter. “We’re basically done here. I just need to wait for Amy. Are you sure she’s coming in today?”

Weaving through the tables of plants, I made my way into the storage room and pulled out the plant I’d kept there. “She’ll definitely be here. She was so worried about her baby.”

Mrs. Sorenson, one of my aunt’s most loyal customers, had purchased a Thai Constellation months ago. But when she’d struggled to keep it healthy, Joy told her to bring it back to the shop. The plant had been in bad shape when I first got it—all droopy with brown leaves—but after repotting and a lot of TLC, it had perked up. It even had a new leaf forming.

The bell above the front door rang, and a glamorous woman with silvery hair and bright red lipstick bustled in. “Sorry, my dears,” Mrs. Sorenson said, waving with her hands. “Traffic was wretched. Is that Mommy’s gorgeous beauty?” She clapped her hands. “Oh, Violet. You fixed her. She looked practically crispy when I dropped her off. Whatever did you do?”

“I trimmed off the brown bits and checked the roots. You had a bit of root rot going on. But don’t worry, I got rid of that. Just be careful about over-fertilizing and make sure you place her in a nice sunny spot. She should do much better.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Sorenson opened her purse. “How much do I owe for your services?”

Joy shook her head. “Put your money away, Amy. You’re a loyal customer, so there’s no charge.”

Mrs. Sorenson’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I want to properly pay you for your work.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joy assured her.

Mrs. Sorenson shut her purse. “If you insist. Thank you so much, Joy. You are such a darling.” She wandered over to the front display table and grabbed a clear Haworthia I’d just put out. “This is fabulous. I’ll take it.” She carried the plant over to the counter and handed Joy her credit card. “Some of my friends are coming to your succulent class, by the way. I told them about it at bridge last night.”

So that explained our sudden influx of student sign-ups today. In an effort to encourage more foot traffic, Joy was offering “Snack and Plant” classes. People would pay to attend a plant-related class, and we’d provide yummy snacks too. It was a great way to reach the local houseplant community.

I fidgeted with my pendant. To prepare for my upcoming YouCon talk, I’d volunteered to teach the first class. We were making succulent Christmas trees. Given my nervousness about presenting in front of an audience, it seemed an easy way to improve my public speaking skills. The group was relatively small, and I’d be talking about a topic I absolutely adored. However, thinking about the class still left me with a sizable amount of anxiety.

I swallowed and gave Mrs. Sorenson a wobbly smile. “That’s great. I look forward to seeing all of you there.”

“I’m so excited to learn. See you later, darlings.” Mrs. Sorenson waggled her fingers as she walked toward the door. “And, Joy, call me as soon as you receive that next shipment of variegated Monstera adansonii. Phyllis got one last time, and she hasn’t stopped raving about it.”

My aunt and I exchanged a knowing look. Plant envy was fierce amongst the plant community. You know what they say about “the grass being greener on the other side.”

“Will do,” Joy said cheerfully as Mrs. Sorenson left the shop.

My aunt picked up a clipboard from the counter. “Looks like we’ll have a good turnout.” She showed me the list of names, and I recognized a few regular customers.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” I grabbed my bag and pulled out a couple of crumpled bills. “Could you please add Piper and Olivia to the list?”

Joy took the money and wrote their names on the sign-up sheet. “Now we’ve only four spots left, and it looks like it’s officially closing time. Want a ride home? Lolo is watching the boys today, and he won’t mind if I’m a little late.”

Lolo was my grandfather. It surprised me how someone so quiet and sweet managed to keep up with my rambunctious cousins three days a week.

“Actually, I’ve already got a ride. A friend’s picking me up. I’m tutoring him in math.”

Joy looked up from her clipboard, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. “A boy’s picking you up? Does your mom know? Better yet, does your dad know?”

I could already see the gears turning in her mind. It was no secret that my father was overprotective when it came to me. Not that he had any reason to be, given that I’d never dated.

“Yes. I told Mom since I’ll be missing dinner, and she said it was okay. Not sure what Dad said, but I assume he’s okay with it too.”

Joy tapped the pen against her lips. “Knowing your father, I’m highly doubtful.”

The bell above the shop door rang again.

“I’m sorry we’re—” My aunt stopped when Wesley walked in. Tall and broad-shouldered, he towered above our displays.

Wes made his way over to the counter and greeted me with a slow-spreading smile. “Hey, Violet. Are you ready to go?”

I blinked, momentarily mesmerized by his blue eyes. “Um, yeah.”

Joy gently pushed past me and offered her hand. “I’m Violet’s aunt, Joy. And who might you be?”

Wes shook her hand. “Wesley. Violet’s tutoring me in math.”

Joy waggled her eyebrows at me before responding. “Nice to meet you, Wesley. Have you met Violet’s brothers and father y—”

“I need to pack up,” I blurted out. “Why don’t you wait for me outside, Wes?” I tilted my head toward the door, hoping he’d get the hint.

But with a much too innocent look, he shook his head and didn’t move.

I jerked my head toward the door several more times, no doubt looking like a broken bobblehead doll. “Go on. I can meet you outside.”

“That’s alright.” Wesley’s voice was as smooth as silk. “I don’t mind waiting inside. Take your time.”

Ugh. Why wouldn’t he just take the hint?

Meanwhile, Joy’s eyes danced back and forth between us. Who knew what she was thinking. But I had a strong suspicion her imagination was already running away with her, which meant straight after I left, she’d be on the phone with my mom.

“I’ll just take a look around.” Blatantly ignoring my wishes, Wes strolled from display to display. Every so often, he’d stop to admire a plant. “By the way, thanks for donating to our fundraiser, Joy. The arrangements were amazing. They received so many compliments.”

Joy nudged me with her hip. “You’re welcome. And Violet was responsible for them, as it happens. My niece is extremely talented and very available.”

Hold on one plant-filled moment. Was she trying to set me up? Horrified, I grabbed my aunt’s hand and squeezed. “Joy, I need your help with something in the back. Now.” After tugging her into the safety of the storeroom, I shut the door behind us and let out a muted shriek. “What was that for? I’m available? Why would you say that?”

My aunt gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry, guess I had a minor brain fart. It happens sometimes. I just can’t help it. One minute, I was staring at you both, and the next, I was thinking that you’d make beautiful babies.”

I began pacing—quite a feat in such a tiny room. “That’s wrong on so many levels. Wes and I are in high school. Plus, we’re not dating. And you know nothing about him!”

She nodded solemnly. “All excellent points. And I don’t exactly have the best track record with guys. My ex being a perfect example.”

This was true. My uncle was a no-good, two-timing jerk.

Just when I thought she’d realized the error of her ways, Joy pulled her phone from her back pocket and began typing.

“You’re telling Mom, aren’t you?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Sweet sugar snap peas, give me patience.

Joy continued typing. “Oh, Jen’s going to love this. Do you think Wesley would mind if I took a photo of him to send her?”

“What? No!”

Joy held up her hands. “You’re right. That would be weird when we’ve only just met. I’ll google him instead. Oh, Violet, your father’s going to have some words with you.” My aunt grinned at the thought.

Glad to see someone having such a good time at my expense. “Yeah, well, Dad doesn’t have to worry. Micah already spoke to me. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told him—Wes and I are friends. He’s a playboy. A cad. A ladies’ man. A rake. And I’m definitely not his type.”

My voice had become so high-pitched that it was practically a shriek. The idea that Wesley and I could even be together was, well, comical. He soared in the upper echelons of popular kids, while I lurked somewhere near the bottom of the scale. And dragging my overprotective father into my non-existent love life was something I didn’t need.

Joy studied me for a moment longer before putting away her phone. “Nice list of descriptors. I knew our bingeing on period dramas would be a good influence on you.” She smiled and squeezed my hand. “I’m only teasing. When your love life’s as dead as mine, you start imagining romance wherever you can. Go have fun with your friend. I’ll finish closing up.”

When we returned to the store, Wesley stood at the counter with a Haworthia in his hand. “I’d like to purchase this for my sister, please.”

“Good choice.” Thankfully, Joy seemed to be back in professional-store-owner mode. She rang up his purchase and handed him a receipt. “We just got those in stock. And if you like plants, we’re running a Snack and Plant class at the store this weekend. You should come.”

No. No. No.I shook my head. Why was she inviting him?

Ignoring my silent plea, Joy continued, “Violet’s teaching the class. We’re making succulent Christmas trees.”

Wesley picked up a flyer and studied it. “Are these the same ones that Shy Plant Girl made?”

Joy’s grin widened. “Yes. Exactly the same.” She turned to me. “Look at that, Violet. Wesley knows about Shy Plant Girl.”

For goodness’ sake, Joy was speaking in an exaggerated tone, like a middle schooler in a bad school play. She was all but revealing my secret identity.

“Lots of people watch Shy Plant Girl,” I muttered. “I already know that Wes watches her with his sister. He told us during the fundraiser last month.” I flung my bag over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Joy.” Then, before my aunt could add any more tidbits, I looped my arm through Wesley’s and dragged him from the store.