The morning had already settled in by the time Emma stepped outside.
The air had that early April feel. Cool at first, but easy once you stood in it a moment.
She paused at the edge of the porch, her gaze moving over the front of the cottage.
The flowerbeds lined the walkway just as they always had. Still kept. Still shaped. But the soil had gone quiet, the color lighter than it should have been this time of year.
She stepped down into the yard and crouched near the edge of one of the beds, pressing her fingers gently into the surface.
The soil was dry.
She brushed her hands together and stood, taking it in once more.
It would need to be turned. Something new planted.
She let her eyes move across the space one last time before heading back inside.
By the time she made her way down the road, the town had already begun its morning.
A door opened somewhere ahead. A car rolled slowly past. The sound of someone moving through their day carried just enough to be noticed, then settled again.
Emma moved at an easy pace.
She had walked this way more times than she could count. Summer mornings, afternoons, sometimes barefoot when she was younger, the gravel warming under her feet.
Now, she just walked.
The bakery sat just ahead, right where it had always been.
She reached for the door and stepped inside.
The bell chimed softly above her.
Warmth met her first, followed by the steady scent of something baking.
“Well, good morning,” Mabel said from behind the counter, one hand resting lightly along the edge as if she had only just paused between tasks.
Emma looked up, a small smile forming. “Good morning.”
Mabel gave a slight nod. “What can I get for you?”
“Just a biscuit.”
“Of course.”
Mabel gave her a small smile. “You’re out early today.”
Emma returned it, a hint of something lighter in her expression. “I couldn’t seem to stay in. I wanted to get started in the flowerbeds.”
Mabel nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “Lilly’s already got some nice spring flowers in this year. You might find something there.”
“I was thinking about stopping by,” Emma said.
Mabel gave a small approving nod before turning to reach for the biscuit.
Emma stepped toward one of the small tables near the window, settling in as she had so many times before.
She wrapped her hands loosely around the warmth for a moment before taking a bite.
She paused.
It tasted the same.
She took another bite, her gaze drifting toward the window as the morning light stretched across the street.
There had been so many mornings like this.
Something warm in her hands. A quiet start to the day. Sitting across from her grandmother, not saying much, not needing to.
She finished without rushing, brushing her hands lightly before standing.
“Have a good day, Mabel,” she said as she stepped toward the door. “I’ll definitely be back. I love those biscuits.”
Mabel smiled. “You enjoy that planting.”
Outside, the air had shifted slightly warmer.
A couple of kids rode past on bikes, their voices carrying behind them as they headed toward the shore.
“You have to throw it lower.”
“I am throwing it lower.”
Emma glanced after them, her gaze following the direction they had come from.
From where she stood, she could just see it—the stretch of shoreline beyond the road.
The sand still open.
No chairs set out yet. No rows waiting to be filled.
Just the water moving steadily against the edge, the tide coming in the same way it always had.
She stood there for a second, taking it in.
Then turned back toward the sidewalk and continued on.
“Emma?”
She turned.
Ruth was walking toward her, a soft knit cardigan draped over her shoulders, the sleeves pushed slightly up her arms. A small market bag rested in the crook of her elbow, swaying gently with each step.
“Well, look at you,” Ruth said, slowing as she reached her. “Out early this morning.”
Emma smiled. “I know. It feels like it’s been a while since I’ve done that.”
Ruth studied her for a moment, the kind of look that comes from knowing someone through the years.
“How are you doing?” she asked gently.
Emma nodded, her smile soft but steady. “I’m good. I woke up this morning and just… felt ready to get outside. I’m going to start on the flowerbeds today.”
Ruth’s expression warmed. “That sounds like a good way to start the day.”
Emma let out a small breath, almost a quiet laugh. “It does.”
Ruth gave a small, understanding nod. “Your grandmother would be glad to see you back here.”
Emma’s smile softened slightly. “I think she would be too.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
Ruth’s expression softened. “She always kept that garden going this time of year. Never let it sit for long.”
Emma let out a small breath of a laugh. “That sounds like her.”
Ruth nodded, adjusting the strap of her bag slightly. “It’s good to see you out this morning.”
Emma’s smile lingered. “It feels good to be.”
Ruth reached out, giving Emma’s arm a light, familiar touch as she passed.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Emma nodded, her smile soft. “I’d like that.”
And then they both continued on.
She slowed slightly as she passed the flower shop.
Buckets of fresh flowers had been set outside, arranged in a way that felt natural but cared for. Soft colors mixed with brighter ones, the stems gathered loosely.
A light breeze moved through them.
Emma stepped closer.
Sunlight warmed the front of the shop, settling over the flowers and the windows.
She stood there for a moment, then reached for the door and stepped inside.
The shop felt calm, but full.
Flowers filled the space, arranged with intention. Nothing felt out of place.
Behind the counter, a woman adjusted a small display before turning at the sound of the door. She wore a simple linen apron, softened from use, and her hands carried faint traces of green along her fingertips.
“Hi,” Emma said.
The woman looked up, a gentle smile forming. “Hi there.”
She stepped forward, brushing her hands lightly together.
“I’m Lilly,” she said. “I own the shop.”
“Emma,” she replied, returning the smile. “I just got back into town.”
Lilly paused, studying her for a moment before something in her expression shifted. “You used to come in the summers, didn’t you?”
Emma nodded. “I did. My grandmother lived just down the road.”
Lilly’s smile softened. “I remember seeing you at the festivals. You were always with her.”
Emma let out a quiet breath of a laugh. “That sounds about right.”
Lilly nodded once, as if confirming it to herself, then gestured lightly around the shop. “What can I help you find?”
“I was wondering, do you ever do deliveries? For plants, I mean. Or flowers for outside.”
“Sometimes,” Lilly said. “What are you working with?”
“A garden at the cottage,” Emma said. “It just needs something. I’m not really sure what yet.”
Lilly gave a small nod. “That’s alright. Early spring doesn’t ask for much. Just a place to start.”
Emma’s shoulders eased slightly. “That helps.”
They moved through the shop at an easy pace, Lilly pointing out a few options—nothing overwhelming, just enough to begin.
As they made their way back toward the counter, Emma’s gaze caught on a framed sign near the wall.
Blessing of the Harbor — This Weekend
She paused, reading it.
“We’re getting ready for it,” Lilly said. “Everyone sets up along the harbor. Shops, tables… whatever they have.”
Emma glanced back at her. “I didn’t realize it was this weekend.”
Lilly nodded. “It always lands around now. Right before everything starts picking up again.”
Emma looked at the sign for another moment, then back to the flowers in her hands.
“I think I’ll start with these.”
Lilly smiled. “Good place to start.”
By late afternoon, the light had shifted.
Emma had cleared part of the garden, the soil turned just enough to begin.
She wiped her hands against the side of her jeans and stepped back, looking over what she had done.
The sound of a small engine reached her a moment before she saw it.
A truck turned into the drive and slowed to a stop near the edge of the yard.
Emma glanced toward it, lifting her hand slightly to shade her eyes.
The color caught her first. A soft sea-glass blue that felt like it belonged there. Wooden crates filled the back; flowers gathered inside them as if they had been placed with care instead of simply loaded in.
The door opened.
Lilly stepped out.
“I figured it’d be easier to bring it out,” she said.
Emma smiled, walking a few steps closer. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not out of the way.”
They moved to the back of the truck together.
Lilly reached for one of the crates, handing it down carefully.
“It gets good light here,” she said, glancing toward the garden.
Emma nodded. “It does.”
They worked side by side, carrying the plants over and setting them near the beds Emma had already begun.
“She always kept this side full,” Lilly added, motioning lightly toward the space.
Emma looked at it for a moment. “I remember that.”
Lilly gave a small nod.
When everything had been unloaded, she stepped back, taking it in for a moment.
“Well,” she said, “that’s something to build on.”
Emma looked over the garden—the turned soil, the plants waiting nearby.
“It is.”
Lilly gave her a small smile before heading back toward the truck.
“I’ll see you around.”
Emma nodded, her smile soft but certain.
“Yes, I will see you soon,” she said. “I’ll be at the festival.”
Lilly’s expression warmed. “Good. I’ll see you there.”
She climbed back into the truck, the engine turning over softly before she eased it back down the drive.
Emma stood there a moment longer.
The garden stretched out in front of her, no longer left as it had been.
It didn’t look untouched anymore.
She let her gaze rest there, taking it in.
A light breeze moved through the yard.
The wind chimes stirred gently, the sound soft as it carried through the air.
Emma paused.
She stood there a moment longer, letting the sound carry.
A small breath left her, slow and easy.
After a moment, she glanced back toward the garden, brushing a bit of soil from her hands as she finished up what she could.
The light had already begun to shift.
Inside would be quieter now.
Emma turned toward the house, already thinking about settling in for the evening.
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