HOLLYWOOD — The buckets are back in the window of a corner flower shop that spent most of last year dark, and the new owners are counting on the spring calendar to prove they were right to gamble.

The shop, a fixture on its block for decades, closed last summer when its longtime proprietor retired and no buyer stepped forward in time. It sat empty through the fall — papered windows, a for-lease sign — until a pair of former flower-market workers took over the lease in February and spent six weeks scrubbing, repainting and rebuilding the walk-in cooler.

“We reopened three weeks before prom season on purpose,” said Ingrid Sarabia, 41, who runs the shop with a business partner. “You don’t relaunch a flower shop in a slow month. You open when the phone’s about to ring off the hook, and you pray you’re ready for it.”

The stretch from April through the middle of May is the part of the year that carries a florist. Proms and graduations bring a run of corsages and boutonnieres. Wedding orders stack up. And Mother’s Day, the single biggest day in the trade, arrives like a wave the whole shop braces for weeks in advance.

The economics are unforgiving. Flowers are perishable, most arrive through a cold chain from growers overseas, and a florist who over-orders watches the margin wilt in the cooler while one who under-orders turns away the business that pays the rent. Sarabia said the pair had deliberately kept the opening inventory lean and leaned on standing relationships from their market years to restock quickly.

“Grocery-store bouquets and the app that ships a box of roses — that’s the competition, and we can’t beat them on price,” said her partner, Hoang Trickett, arranging a bucket of ranunculus. “So we don’t try. We do the arrangement the app can’t. The bride who wants the exact shade of her grandmother’s garden. The restaurant that needs fresh stems every Monday. That’s a relationship, not a transaction, and relationships are the only thing that keeps a shop like this alive.”

For some on the block, the reopening filled a gap that had felt larger than a single storefront. “You don’t notice how much you use a flower shop until there isn’t one,” said Corinne Ashby, a regular who stopped in for a birthday bouquet on a recent afternoon. “Funerals, anniversaries, the days you forgot until an hour before. Having to drive for that is a small thing that makes a neighborhood feel a little less like a neighborhood.”

The owners know the spring surge is not the test. A florist can survive May on adrenaline and pre-orders; the harder question is June and the slow months after, when the weddings thin and the cooler still has to be paid for. Sarabia said she was already booking corporate and hotel standing orders to carry the shop through.

She stood in the doorway on a warm afternoon, the buckets bright behind her, and allowed herself a short verdict on the gamble so far. “Ask me the day after Mother’s Day,” she said. “If we’re still standing and still speaking to each other, we made the right call.”