Page 126 - It Ends with Us

Chapter Twelve

“Wha t are you doing to tho se poor flowers ?” Allysa asks from behi nd
me.
I clamp ano ther silver washe r closed and slide it down the stem .
“Stea mpunk .”

We both stand back and admire the bouquet . At lea st . . . I ho pe
she’s looking at it with admiration. It turned out bet ter tha n I tho ught
it would. I used florist dip dye to turn some whi te roses a deep purple.
Then I dec orated the stem s with different stea mpunk el em ent s, like
tiny met al washers and gea rs, and ev en super-glued a small clock to

the brown lea ther strap tha t’s ho lding the bouquet toget her.
“Steam punk?”
“It’s a trend . Kind of a subgenre of fic tion, but it’s catchi ng on in
other area s. Art. Music.” I turn around and smile, ho lding up the
bouquet . “And no w . . . flowers.”
Allysa takes the flowers from me and ho lds them up in front of her.
“They ’re so . . . wei rd. I love them so much. ” She hu gs them . “Can I

ha ve them?”
I pull them away from her. “No, they ’re our grand openi ng display.
Not for sale. ” I take the flowers from her and grab the vase I made
yes terd ay. I found a pair of old button- up women’s boots at a flea
market last week . They remi nded me of the stea mpunk style, and the
boots are actually where I got the idea for the flowers . I washed the

boots last week , dried them, and then super-glued piec es of met al to
them. Onc e I brushed them with Mod Podge, I was able to line the
ins ide with a vase to ho ld water for the flowers .
“Allysa?” I place the flowers on the cent er display table. “I’m pret ty
sure thi s is ex actly wha t I was supposed to do with my life. ”
“Stea mpunk ?” she asks.
I laugh and spin around . “Crea te! ” I say. And then I flip the sign to

open, fif teen minu tes ea rly.