Flower Feud Read Free

FLORAL NEEDS SINCE 1912 . The painter, who was at that moment working on the
s
in Flowers, would soon be painting our new name “Petal Pushers” in bright and cheerful colors.
    The new name is cute, huh? Poppy came up with it. She’s only five and she’s full of surprises.
    Mom sighed. “It’s a little sad to watch the old name disappear, isn’t it?”
    I, too, felt a twinge of sadness. I worried that we were making too many changes all at once. But I decided to channel Becky, who always looks on the bright side of everything. “It’s progress!” I declared. “You’re changing things up with your new arrangements. Things are being updated.”
    Mom smiled at me gratefully. “I guess you’re right.” Still, she looked melancholy.
    The bell above the door rang as my twin sisters walked inside. Dad and Poppy had stopped at the playground before heading to The Corner Café to pick upcoffee for Dad and a muffin for Poppy — their Saturday morning ritual.
    Aster looked around the store, taking everything in quietly as is her habit. Rose, on the other hand, shrugged out of her cropped denim jacket and deposited it on the counter. “Gorgeous!” she squealed, looking at my half-finished bouquet. She took a bright pink rose from the arrangement, clipped it with the shears, and placed it behind her ear. I was annoyed that she had disturbed my arrangement, but I decided to let it slide. The flower
did
look pretty against her gleaming blonde hair. It also matched her bubblegum pink T-shirt perfectly. Rose is super-girly and dramatic. She’s an aspiring actress and gets the lead in almost every school play.
    Aster, her twin, was clad in black tights, black boots, and a black dress under a moth-eaten mustard yellow cardigan that I think used to belong to Gramps. I couldn’t help but smile at my sisters, who were complete opposites, yet somehow shared a room and got along just great. Go figure.
    I left the “Get Well Soon” arrangement for Mom to finish, knowing she would add something interesting to it. People had really been remarking about the change in the flowers since Mom and Dad took over. Don’t get me wrong,Gran and Gramps did beautiful arrangements. But Mom had lots of fun, creative ideas with stuff that you wouldn’t imagine putting into a bouquet. For instance, she had placed a pale blue plastic dinosaur from the toy store in the middle of the “Baby Boy” arrangement she’d sent out yesterday. The new mom had called to tell us how cool and different it was.
    I took a deep breath and faced my sisters. I knew this was going to be difficult. It always is when you’re sharing something special that once belonged just to you.
    “Welcome to Flowers …” there I went again! “Petal Pushers,” I corrected myself. “Today we’re going to learn Flower Shop 101.” I picked up a folder off the counter and took out a sheet of paper I’d worked on that week.
    I saw Rose and Aster glance at each other and roll their eyes.
    “Step one,” I started, ignoring them. “Opening up. This includes sweeping, wiping down counters, and cleaning out the cooler and the buckets.”
    I handed Rose a rag and some spray and she began wiping down the front counter. I pointed Aster in the direction of the broom and she went right to work, making a tidy pile of leaves and dust.
    “Step two,” I went on. “Checking voice mail. New orders may have come in since closing the day before. If there are any emergencies, you deal with them immediately.”
    “A flower emergency!” said Rose, pausing and holding the rag over her heart. “Like when the mayor was allergic to the flowers in all the centerpieces and we had to remove them the night before the wedding?”
    “That’s right,” I said. “Or once, when Gran and Gramps were still here, an arrangement was accidentally delivered to the wrong address. The guy who got it was so excited to get flowers that he refused to give them back. So we had to make a whole new one really