As the Flower Blooms Episode 12: The Bloom at the Door

“Good. Then perhaps she can explain why I was left behind.”

The voice at the doorway silenced the studio.

Daisy turned toward the entrance so quickly that her silver charm tapped against the vase.

Peony leaned closer to Rose.

And Lily—who usually had something elegant and unsettling to say—said nothing at all.

In the doorway stood a camellia.

Her creamy pink petals caught the afternoon light. A narrow lavender ribbon circled the neck of her small glass vase.

Rose’s deepest crimson petals seemed to darken.

“Camellia.”

Daisy looked from one bloom to the other.

“Oh, good,” she whispered. “We’ve reached the part where everyone recognizes someone except me.”

A Reunion Without an Embrace

“I thought you were gone,” Rose said.

Camellia paused just inside the door.

“Yes. That seems to have been a very convenient misunderstanding.”

The blue hydrangeas trembled.

The lavender hydrangeas leaned together.

“We knew she looked familiar.”

“You say that about every pink flower.”

Camellia’s gaze settled on the opened delivery box, the garden photographs, and the ledger beneath its lavender ribbon.

“So,” she said. “Someone finally opened it.”

“Did you send the box?” Peony asked.

“No.”

Camellia leaned toward the photograph of the iron gate.

“But I know where that was taken.”

Rose shifted between her and Peony.

“We should discuss this privately.”

Daisy straightened.

“We have a mysterious ledger, a torn letter, and an uninvited reunion. I think privacy has had quite enough opportunities.”

What Rose Had Kept

Camellia studied Rose for a long moment.

“Tell them about the east bed.”

Rose lowered her bloom.

“The garden was being cleared,” she said. “There was very little time. Some of the plants were moved before the crews arrived.”

“Some,” Camellia repeated.

“I went back for you.”

“The gate was locked.”

“I know.”

For the first time, Camellia’s composure faltered.

“Then you saw it.”

Rose nodded.

“A new lock. And a notice saying everything inside had already been removed.”

Lily finally spoke.

“That notice went up before the last collection.”

Every bloom turned toward her.

Daisy stared.

“You might have led with that several episodes ago.”

“I didn’t know anyone was still inside,” Lily said quietly.

Camellia’s ribbon hung motionless against her vase.

“I was.”

The Name on the Receipt

Peony looked down at the faded photograph.

“Why was there an envelope for me?”

Rose hesitated.

“Because the peonies from the east bed were among the plants we saved.”

“The whole bed?”

Rose did not answer.

Peony’s petals drew inward.

“Rose?”

From beneath a fold of linen in the delivery box, Rose drew the receipt she had kept hidden.

Daisy leaned close enough to read it.

“Collection. East bed. Peonies.”

Below that was a second line.

“One division retained.”

Peony looked up.

“What does that mean?”

“A peony can be divided,” Rose said gently. “A healthy plant can become more than one, with care and time.”

Camellia studied Peony.

“You came from that garden.”

The studio grew very still.

Peony looked at the picture again—the blush blooms crowded behind the iron gate.

“All this time,” she whispered, “I thought it was just a photograph.”

Something Tucked Beneath the Ribbon

Camellia turned toward the ledger.

“The day they left, I found something caught on the gate.”

Beneath her lavender ribbon was a small folded paper, softened at the edges.

Lily drew back.

White Rose moved closer.

Camellia noticed.

“You recognize it?”

White Rose said nothing.

Daisy carefully opened the paper.

It was a collection list.

Most of the names had been checked off.

One had been crossed out.

Camellia.

Beside it, in a different hand, someone had written:

Leave until morning. I will return personally.

Rose leaned forward.

“I never saw that.”

“No,” Camellia said. “You wouldn’t have.”

At the bottom of the page was a signature.

White Rose lowered her bloom.

Peony looked at her.

“You were supposed to go back?”

“I did go back,” White Rose whispered.

Camellia’s petals stiffened.

“Then why didn’t you find me?”

White Rose looked toward the studio door.

“Because someone had already taken you.”

To be continued…

Next episode: “The Name Beneath the Signature”

A Little Flower Wisdom

Established peonies can be propagated by dividing their root clumps, with each division retaining healthy roots and growth buds called “eyes.”

In this garden, even the roots have a family secret.