4
I am shelving some reserved books behind the register, when I see a canvas B. B. & B. bag tucked into the corner of the shelf. It's been a little over three weeks since I tried contacting Beau through Facebook to let him know he left his purchase at the store. He never responded.
It colors the rest of my day in shades of disappointment.
As I walk to work the next day, I try not to take his disappearance too seriously. I was kinda hoping he'd stop by and pick it up. I shake my head at this thought and stride quickly down the sidewalk. I don’t want to look too closely at why I want him to come back. I should just be happy I had a normal conversation with a man, and a man that wasn't geriatric, or gay at that."I surround myself with men that make me feel safe. They are usually either fatherly or friendly. Beau felt neither of those things; he was certainly too flirty to be just friendly."
As I reach the store, both Jess and Anna are waiting outside. Anna is holding a large brown paper cone, her face shoved down deep to smell what must be flowers.
"Somebody must have an admirer," I sing-song. They both look at me and Anna shoves the flowers my way. I see dozens of red carnations; my belly tips uncomfortably. My face must show distress, because Jess pulls Anna's hand back. I'm no longer assaulted with the smell of the one flower that I can't stand.
"They're for you Sam," Jess says.
"Huh," I say sounding like I can't manage the English language.
"Here's the card," Anna flips her free hand forward. A small white card with my name scrawled in messy writing lands in front of my face.
"I don't want them!" I say a little too loudly. Both women stare at my outburst.
I rush into the store, turn off the alarm, and throw myself into my office. I'm panting by the time I throw the lock. I close my eyes trying to center myself, but my closed lids serve as a blank background for unwanted memories to project themselves.
Red carnations everywhere. They were my mother’s favorite flower. The funeral home was bathed in red upon my step-father’s request. A large heart bouquet of them covered her closed casket. The smell was overwhelming, but that's not why I hate them.
I hate them because when we left, he brought dozens of the flowers home with us. That was the first night he got so drunk. He confused me for my mother. He kept trying to give me the flowers.
I accepted them after repeatedly saying my name wasn't Naomi and that I wasn’t my mother. He'd become increasingly agitated, then he'd curse me for leaving him, and seconds later he cursed me for not being my mother. His actions were unpredictable, never making sense.
Looking back, I think he must have known I wasn't my mother, no matter how how much he drank.
He was pretending. He wanted to punish me for not being what he wanted.
I stopped taking the flowers that he'd bring home everyday after work. He still left them for me. I locked my door at night, but I'd still find the red carnation on my dresser. A few times on the end of my bed. I don't think I ever slept a whole night through, after I started finding them on my bed.
The phone ringing brings me out of the past. I need to find out where the flowers came from, but right now I just want to forget they exist.
"Barron's Books and Baubles, how can I help you?" The phone call lasts long enough that I am able to calm myself, but I stay in my office most of the morning. By lunch I step out to find everybody avoiding me, for fear of me snapping at them. Jess stays stationed at her coffee cart but tracks my movements around the store.
I approach Anna at the front desk, "I'm sorry I was rude to you Anna."
She smiles and tells me all is forgiven, “Never seen a reaction like that to flowers.”
I ignore her comment, and get to what I'm truly dreading to ask, "Anna, what did you do with the card and flowers?” My words come out in a rush. I try slowing them down as I finish with, “Did you see who dropped them off?"
She looks worried when she answers, "I put them in the lounge. I didn't see who dropped them off, but Jess was here before me."
I nod and head over to Jess.
"Hey. I’m sorry about earlier. Were you here when they were dropped off?" Jess doesn't bat an eyelash at my pathetic apology
"Nope, sorry Sam. They were just laying right in front of the door, so I picked them up." She shrugs, "When Anna showed up and saw me holding them, she asked if they were mine. When I said no she grabbed them and started looking for the card. You walked up right after she found it."
I nod and walk back to the main store, heading for the lounge.
The flowers are in a leftover vase, from when Anna was dating a guytoo cheap to buy crystal. She left the vase here and never went out with him again.
The white card is suspended by a clear stick. I wasn't imagining things; my name is clearly written on it. The same name I've gone by for seven years. The thought of him knowing my new name is alarming. The possibility of him being anywhere near me is frightening. The letters are large and overly-messy, like they were drawn by a child or someone trying to disguise their writing. No florist name adorns the card, but it is rather small, maybe none would fit. I look closer and see an uneven edge, it was torn.
My gut tells me that he’s found me, but my brain is trying to rationalize the occurrence and dismiss it as a coincidence. I know I'd rather be in denial then face the chance he's here, in my new life.
