Roses
As soon as she walked in he felt the tension. It embraced him like a broken heart. She reminded him of a bird with a broken wing who was determined to fly.
He shuddered, as a look of curiosity spread far behind his mask of humility. As she moved across the small flower boutique, silently admiring the crayon of colorful flowers blossoming in his endangered establishment, he politely asked, “May I help you young lady?”
She replied, “I saw these white baby roses from outside. They’re enchanting.” Her voice was distant, like an echo reverberating off the soul. Her eyes reminded him of the day after Christmas, a wintry one, and he wondered, “what could possibly be troubling this beautiful young woman? This star that seems to have fallen.”
She obviously needed space, so he gave her a galaxy. After all, that’s where all stars reside. He watched her carefully through careful eyes. She mostly greeted each flower with appreciation, enjoying every distinct fragrance, and giving each one a chance to welcome her.
Finally, she worked her way over to the small wooden counter and inquired about the white baby roses, with the lightly peach-tipped petals. He said, “young lady, for you, 25 roses for $5 cash.”
She reached in a small purse, removed a $5 bill, handed it to him, and thanked him. He accepted it, with a smile and acted with a playful charm. “Aren’t you a day late? Valentine’s Day was yesterday. Shouldn’t a lucky young man be buying you flowers?”
She paused for a second, as if considering whether or not to answer his question. She grabbed the flowers and replied, “My husband is in prison. I just came from visiting him. And if my husband was home, he wouldn’t give me roses, he’d give me a garden.”
The old man apologized and understood immediately the cause of her condition, for he too had once been in prison and in love. He watched as she walked out of his boutique and headed toward her car. The old man yell, “Young lady! Young lady! Wait! You forgot these.”
She turned to face him and saw that he had another 25 roses in his hand. She looked confused, and the old man smiled and said, “these are from your husband.”
The young lady’s smile opened like a sunflower greeting the morning sun. She looked at the old man with a comforting stare and thanked him with watery eyes. As she got in the car and accommodated her roses, she remembered her birthday a few months ago. Her husband had sent her a giant bouquet of flowers, a small box of chocolate, and a cute little card. She blushed, as she remembered what he had writ on the card for her. It said, “My love, I can’t wait to show these flowers how pretty you are.” She wiped a tearful diamond off her cheek, dropped tension off in the parking lot of the small boutique, picked up patience, and drove off, with 50 envious roses.