11
Hayley
2018
Ilove working with my hands, snipping and sizing stems, holding thorny stalks with my hands and knowing they won’t get through. The thick thorns are at my mercy. It isn’t a matter of dominance; it’s the only way we can have a friendship between us. I cannot touch them, and they cannot touch me. I don’t want to rid the stem of them because what would a rose be without her thorns? Carl observes me from his workstation.
“No paperwork today?”
“Not in a million years. I have a wedding to cater for in a month, so I have to dust the rust off. What about you? Your mystery client coming in to push your creativity?”
“No.” His face drops. “She can’t.”
“Oh? I thought it was a guy with the way she fascinated you.”
“She passed away. I saw a notice a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, Carl, no! You didn’t say anything.” He brings a tissue to wipe the tears forming there. “I am so sorry.”
“The thing is, she’s placed orders for the next few months, wants it delivered to her husband.”
This causes a squeeze in my chest. To love so profoundly must be incredible. Before I know it, I’m tearing up.
“Oh, that is so devastating.”
Carl sniffs. “She watched PS. I Love You, and this is her spin on it.”
“Well, I love it. What’s your client's name?”
“She just signed it E, and it’s what I called her.”
I smile as I arrange a cascade bouquet with a waterfall of roses and posies draping down the front of the arrangement. Bridal bouquets are my favorites; I love that I’m a part of their joy, even for a few seconds. My flowers are what she holds in her hand and what sits in his breast pocket against his heart. I love that my flowers are squeezed between the palms of bridesmaids as they show their love and support to a friend or sister and the little flower girls, who swing them around for fun. My flowers are a part of a story I might never know. It sits on the table as he undresses her for the first time and slips the ones in her hair off.
I’m getting carried away again. I clear my throat.
“Lost in love again?”
“It’s because I have no use for that kind of love in real life, sweetheart.”
He shakes his head. “Logan doesn’t just hang around for London, you know.”
I gawk at him. “Oh, don’t start, Carl. That is never going to happen.”
“You never did tell me what happened between you two. What, the guy knocks you up, but can’t take the plunge?”
My cheeks heat. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Wait a minute . . .”
“Don’t. Don’t ask a question you’re going to hate the answer to.”
He nods. “I’m here if you need me. You can trust me, you know.”
Even though Carl is the biggest gossip in Seattle, and that comes from his major crush on the gay hairdresser next door, I know I can trust him with my life. Being away from home and my mom, he’s been London’s nanny, my friend, and the only person I can confide in. That reminds me, my mom is visiting this weekend.
* * *
London is sittingon the counter with a cupcake stuffed into her mouth, her brown curls bouncing. Her hazel eyes beam when she sees me approach. I’m exhausted from the fiftieth party arrangements I did this morning.
