Clover knelt by the sidewalk, counting clovers under the salon window. One glint caught her eye — a twenty-dollar bill on top of a three-leaf clover.
She picked it up. The paper was crisp and smooth. Her mouth opened in a silent O as a tiny clover leaf twirled in the breeze.
She tucked the bill into her pocket and stood. The flower shop was only two blocks away, and she could already smell the blooms.
At the flower stand, she counted the bill twice, then pointed to a bunch of daisies and a small pot of lavender. The vendor handed her the bundle.
Her shoulders dropped and she let out a long breath that smelled like green stems. She cradled the flowers and headed toward the bakery with the tea counter.
Inside the bakery, she bought a cup of chamomile tea and watched the steam curl into the sunny air. The flowers waited in her other arm.
She carried the flowers and tea up the path to her grandmother's house. The front door was slightly open, and she pushed it wide.
She called out, 'Grandma!' and stepped into a room filled with the sound of a ticking clock. Her grandmother turned from the kitchen sink.
She placed the flowers on the table and set the tea beside them. Her hands trembled just a little.
Her grandmother looked at the blooms, then at her, and her face broke into a wide crinkly smile. She pulled the girl into a hug that smelled of flour and lavender.
Together they sat at the sunny table. Butterflies danced around the daisies, and their laughter mixed with the distant music from the salon.
Clover reached down and found another three-leaf clover by the door, but this time she left it where it was. The clover nodded in the breeze, and the sun warmed the table.