There was a small card in the center held up by a stick that I plucked up with two fingers. I tossed the stick on my desk and looked over the card. There wasn’t a note on it. What there was, was a single chess piece no bigger than one inch printed directly in the middle. I couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped my mouth. I collapsed in my desk chair and looked over the flowers again.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever gotten flowers in my entire life, not from my family for big events or when I’d graduated, not fordeployment, not for my return to civilian life, nothing. Shit. I hadn’t even helped pick out the flowers for my own wedding.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I thought flowers were cool but they weren’t something I’d ask for. I knew that. They did nothing. They sat in a vase for a few days, withered up and died. They were a waste of money.
That didn’t stop me from smirking as I looked at them though because I knew this had to be a big step for Bishop who had never really dated anyone before and I appreciated the gesture more than the gift itself.
I grabbed my cell phone and sent him a quick text.
Me: Flowers?
I saw his text bubble pop up immediately, then vanish, then pop up again. Then, a call from him came through.
I answered it immediately and put my phone to my ear.
“What’s up?”
“You hate them or what?” He snickered.
“Nah. They’re nice. I appreciate the gesture.” I looked over at the flowers again, letting my eyes trail up and down over them.
“Saying you appreciate the gesture means you appreciate the thought but not what I actually did.”
“I’m not the type of nigga that has a green thumb to keep flowers and shit alive,” I admitted. “But, I like knowing that you thought about me enough to do something like this though.”
“Alright.” Bishop paused for a beat. “So what do you like?”
“I’m not really one for receiving gifts,” I admitted. “I’m a quality time type of man.”
“Oh word?” Bishop scoffed.
“Yeah.” I reached forward and plucked one of the flowers out of the vase. “What makes you feel wanted, Bishop?”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He chuckled and I nodded at that.
Even masked with a laugh, it was obvious he was serious. He hadn’t been lying about his inexperience with dating for the sake of dating, but there was time to figure out what exactly he liked and what he didn’t like.
“Good.” I sniffed the flower in front of me. It smelled like nothing. I tossed it back into the vase. “I give my love as acts of service and quality time usually,” I offered. “If you were wondering.”
“Yeah? Should I be expecting you to give me your love, Asante?”
“We’ll see,” I deadpanned. I paused as someone spoke to Bishop, their voice immediately muffled by his hand or something as he responded. “You busy?”
“Not necessarily.”
“That wasn’t a no. I’ll let you go.”
“You rushing me off the phone now, Asante?”
“Of course not.” I plucked a pen up and started to tap it on the edge of my desk. “I just don’t want to hold you up if you have something else to do.”
“Yeah, alright.” He exhaled. “So, what are you getting into this weekend?”
“I don’t know. Why? What’s up?”
“Saturday afternoon around five be free. I can pick you up from the club. Dress comfortably.”
I smiled automatically.
