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The sun was barely coloring the sky as I stood in front of the window at the store. The ivy vines that crawled up the ancient red brick like small sucking hands were barely visible around the sides of the frame. The shop name, "The Sweetest Stems in Town," blazed in bright colors and read backwards from my vantage point, barely obscured my vision of the early risers like myself. Coffee in one hand, the other stuffed stoically in my pocket, I watched.

Cars passed and the people inside looked out just like me. Some looked around, others not alone and having silent conversations that I couldn't decipher, and then others just stared straight forward, oblivious to the world around them. I couldn't blame those people. For a long time, all I did was stare straight forward. It's easier that way; life makes more sense.

An orange haze began to take over the world as the sun rose at its own pace, and my coffee was cooling in its cup, but I didn't want to move. I remembered mornings that Erin and I would stand here, just like this, my arm around her shoulder, and start the day together. She was quiet and gentle, kind and empathetic. Everything made her cry, but her tears were always beautiful somehow. She started this business to make people smile. It was a stand in college, then out of our first house when we got married, and when we bought this place, I'd never seen her so happy. The only day that came close was the day we found out we were having Allison.

She was perfect up until the second she passed from this world to the next, bringing her mother, my wife, my everything, with her. I tried not to think about it most days. It seemed like so long ago. Every day crept by like it was going to last forever until I lay my head down to sleep and wake the next morning. I smile and chat with customers, with other shop owners, and sometimes I even have lunch or dinner with friends. It's just a different scene, though.

People said it would get better, that Erin would want me to be happy, and all those other cliche phrases, but noone-noone-ever told me that I'd be locked in my head. Thoughts, feelings, emotions, all locked inside with no where to go but 'round and 'round. I heard the back door creak open, and I looked at my watch. It was about time for Bobby to be here to start cleaning the shop and the freezer.

"'Morning, Mr. R!" Bobby called from the back. I grinned a bit, and whether I'd ever tell that little cocky pain in my ass or not, I enjoyed having him here. He was the verve, the lifeblood of this place. Jane and Dee, my floral designers, had adopted him as family as soon as he'd applied. They mothered him something fierce, and Dee treated him like a red-headed little brother. We're quite the family. They were the only people I let close anymore.

My parents had been begging to come down and visit, for me to come back home and visit, but I'd declined every time. I couldn't stand the look on their faces, or the empty things they'd say, and I didn't want to hate them. It was easier to stay away. Erin's family never called after the funeral. Her mother had taken all the baby clothes with her, all of Erin's clothes, and when she'd left, I spent the night crying in the closet. I wasted no time repainting Allison's room and taking down the crib and everything else. Now, it's just an empty.

I looked back and watched Bobby dance around, those sleek headphones over his head and ears and his arms moving in some waving motion. We'd had this conversation before and he told me he wore "Beats" so he could "pop and lock" or something like that. I'd just shook my head and told him okay. He was a good kid.

The bins began to come out, and Bobby put them all where they went, each one color coded with its position. Erin was nothing if not meticulous. I heard the roar of a box truck come by the side of the shop, and I took the last drink of my cold coffee and sat my mug on the counter by the register. As I passed Bobby, I clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the docking bay.

I shook Paul's hand and made small talk as I double checked the invoice with my order and then the invoice with the delivery. Satisfied as always, I scratched my signature on the bottom and handed the clipboard back to Paul, and he hesitated a moment.

"Hey, Austin, I was thinking...Lindsay and I are having a bar-b-que at our house this weekend, and we'd love for you to be there. You know, Lindsay's got a friend that she's been wanting you to meet," Paul offered, filing the invoice in his truck.

Bobby stopped and watched curiously when he heard Paul's question, and I knew he fully expected me to say no, maybe get offended, but instead, I just nodded.

"Maybe. I'll see how busy we are at the shop," I agreed, chuckling as I saw Bobby's eyes go wide. "Tell Lindsay I said thank you. I appreciate you guys thinking of me."

I wanted to say more, to assure him I was just fine, but I wasn't keen on lying. I knew I wasn't fine, but I was alright. It has been three years since I lost Erin and Allison, but it seemed like forever and just yesterday all at the same time. The world looked the same, but I knew it was different. Very different. Empty.

Paul left, and June and Dee got here shortly after, and the work day went on like it did every day. I manned the cash register, June and Dee filled the orders for today, Bobby kept things clean and filled, and when there were deliveries to be made, I did those myself. Every day. Day in and day out.

I walked in the empty house late, staying to finish a few last minute orders for a few people who were in a bind. I was so far out from the city lights that the stars were brilliant and bright. I hated the night sky. it was the loneliest, disappointing sight, but I stared anyways. I realized I hadn't eaten, but I wasn't hungry, so I just showered and slipped into a cold bed. Maybe it was time to get out there. I just didn't want to think about it right now, so I closed my eyes and let sleep take me, a million questions in my head.