troublewillfindme

Some personal history lessons.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he asks over drinks that night. “Why flowers?’

“Fair question,” she concedes. “But. You have to promise not to laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” he promises.

“I made it through the first six months of a PhD in Biodefense at George Mason before I could admit to myself that I hated it; I hated the academic culture of the security field; and I wanted to do just about anything else. So,” she shrugs.” I dropped out.”

“Just like that?”

She takes a sip of her beer. “Well. Less ‘just like that’ and more protracted transatlantic shouting match.”

“Had to be a killer with the time difference.”

She nods, and takes another, larger sip. “Eventually, my grandfather intervened. Said since he was the one paying for it, he got to make the final decision.”

“And?”

“And he said, and I quote, ‘if the baby’s not happy, she doesn’t have to do it.’”

“The baby?” Bradford grins.

Lizzie laughs. “I am the first and favorite grandchild. To him, I’m always the baby.”

“How old were you?”

She cocks her head. “Twenty … three? Four? Old enough to have been able to settle the argument myself.”

“But young enough to appreciate the back up.”

“There is never an age where I will stop appreciating backup.” She downs her beer. “You’ll have to meet my mother. Then, you’ll understand.”

“I think I already understand,” he says, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Anyway, I had to do something. So, I moved up to New York, crashed at my grandfather’s apartment, and went to work for the florist on the corner. I started as a counter girl, taking orders, ringing people up, answering the phone. After a few months, I got to actually play with the flowers.”

“And from there it escalated?”

She nods. “Turns out, I had a knack for it. When the shop closed, I kept up with making arrangements. I took custom orders off Instagram.”

“Instagram?”

“Stop looking so aghast.”

“Instagram, Lizzie?”

“It was how I got my first weddings!”

He shakes his head. “How’d you parlay that into owning your own shop?”

“Persistence, word of mouth, and my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?”

Again, she nods. “He owned his own dressmaking shop, and used it to buy the building his apartment’s in. He’s a big believer in small business. So, he helped me get on my feet.”

“That’s actually really sweet.”

“He’s always been my biggest fan.” She flags the bartender for a water. “But, what about you? Why coffee?”

“I worked in intelligence. There comes a point where you realize it’s your job or your moral compass.”

“You hit the event horizon?”

“It was too much collateral damage. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“So, coffee?”

“You can’t laugh.”

“Try me.”

“Childhood goal.”

A grin cracks across her face. “That’s adorable. How’d that happen?”

He shakes his head. “My aunt worked in one. Lots of good memories. So, when the time came and I had the chance, I took it.”

“Who’d you get to redo it? I’ve seen the pictures of the before.”