When grieving customers come into Jackie Jones' Lansdowne floral shop, she takes them to a separate room with a sofa and fireplace to talk about their loss. The flowers can come second to the conversation.

You could even call her a floral therapist.

"I don't know a family that leaves here without a big hug," Jones said. "It's all about being personal. You treat them like they're your family."

In tight-knit communities, they can be like family, helping their customers celebrate the good times and weather the bad. They dispense fragrant, colorful consolations, pick me ups and sometimes even advice to those in need. And though seldom recognized as such, florists are one of the best sources of news and gossip in small communities.

More than just petal peddlers, florists know who's getting born, who's sick and who's going to the prom. They know when a guy needs to make nice with the girlfriend, when he wants to marry her, if he cheats on her, and, eventually, when someone dies.

"We're there for the highs and the lows of people's lives," said Becky Spicer, a florist at Hutchinson's Flowers Inc. in Eldersburg.

Mike O'Connell, a 22-year-old law student, frequents florist shops -- often for the same reason: He has run afoul of his fiance, Emily Kmitch, and amends need to be made, post haste.

Florists can consistently patch the holes that O'Donnell tears in his relationship.

"There is nothing that says 'I'm sorry' better than flowers," O'Connell said. "Before I've even cooled off, I'm already buying flowers. ... It always ends up being worth it."

And more often than not, customers in O'Connell's shoes will spill the beans on why they made the trip, Jones said.

"There have been many, many days when I have said, 'We really should serve drinks in here,'" said Jones, the owner of Corner Florist.

"When you go into a bar, people set up drinks and pour their hearts out. You know everything about them by the time they leave. We get the same thing here, a lot."

Florists have several options for men in the doghouse with their girlfriends or spouses. There is the red rose, a nearly universal symbol of love. Leaving it in the hands of a florist is another option, the folks at Hutchinson's said.

"A lot of times, they think they know what they want," said Susan Nelson of Hutchinson's. "But if they were to leave it up to us to create something, they would be much happier than if they were to pick something out of a book."

When men who've behaved badly come to florist Wanda DeWall's stall in the Cross Street Market and confess their behavior, she can't help but give them advice.

"I say, 'Flowers are nice, but the best thing is, don't stay out all night,'" DeWall said. "As women, we understand."

Florists can also be privy to marriage proposals before they happen. Last Valentine's Day, a customer of Hutchinson's sent a dozen roses on four consecutive days to his girlfriend, Spicer said.

Each day, the accompanying cards bore the phrase "Will you marry me," one word at a time. Though the woman had to wait four days to get the full message, some of the folks at Hutchinson's knew from the start. But since the florists only write the cards and arrange the flowers, they don't know what the woman's reaction was.

"I think it's sweet," Spicer said. "We always hope for the best for them."

Florists occasionally find themselves in tenuous relationship situations. When married men want to send leafy gifts to their mistresses, they turn to the local florist for help.

In smaller communities such as Eldersburg, the florist may even know the man, his wife and the woman he's sending flowers to, said Tom Howes, the manager of Hutchinson's Flowers. At first, Howes tries his best not to suspect foul play.

"You can never assume," Howes said. "It could be somebody who did a favor for him. ... Maybe it's somebody he worked with."

Withholding information to protect customers is where he draws the line.

One time, a local man was cheating on his wife and sending his girlfriend flowers through Hutchinson's, Howes said. The wife called the shop with her suspicions. The shop confirmed them, and the couple divorced. Then, the man married his mistress.

"I don't think we did the flowers for that wedding," Howes said.

Stalkers can also pose problems for florists. If a man calls Hutchinson's and refuses to give his name, some of the shop's florists won't fill the order. Though nothing is written in stone, there is an unspoken industry rule not to deliver flowers from unknown sources, said Jenny Stromann, the director of marketing for the Society of American Florists, a trade group. If the florist doesn't get a name from the giver, generally they won't accept the order, she said.

"Florists are individual businesses, so many have their own policies," Stromann said. "But in general, they won't deliver anonymous flowers."

Beyond dealing with anonymous phone calls, florists need to be able to run a gamut of emotions in a short period of time.

"The hardest thing is having to sit with a family that's just lost a child," Nelson said. "You grieve with them. You can't help but cry. None of us want to go in there and do it. But you have to."

Nelson and the other florists hope their work can help soften even the worst situations in life.

Olu Woods couldn't spend the holiday with her mother last Christmas because she had to attend a funeral in the Virgin Islands. So the 31-year-old spoken-word poet bought her mother Robin a bouquet of white winter flowers.

"I knew she was going to be spending Christmas by herself," said Woods, who lives in the city. "I left them with her as a reminder of me."

At times, a single rose can mean as much as a large bouquet, florists say. But the result is almost always the same.

"Flowers comfort the living," said Donna Dodge, a florist at Hutchinson's. "I think we do important work."

Helping her customers through the ups and downs of their lives makes the job worthwhile for florist Penny Bradford, who is president of the Chesapeake Floral Association.

"You're part of everybody's life," Bradford said. "It warms your heart. ... It makes you feel like you're worth something."

sam.sessa@baltsun.com