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It’s a small wonder that I make it to the greenhouse without sweating my clothing right off my body. I don’t know if that’s an actual thing- if clothing can melt off one’s sticky, sweat drenched frame, but I also don’t want to find out.
True to her word, Shandra has the bouquet waiting for me in the quiet lunchroom. It’s nearly four in the afternoon, so everyone is out working in the greenhouse. I pull out a plastic chair and slide into the hard orange structure. The bouquet is huge, mystical looking, strange because those flowers aren’t something normal that anyone would pick, and without looking at the letter taped to the paper surrounding the blooms as protection for the fragile petals, leaves, and stems, I know it’s from Leandra.
I can’t say I wasn’t crush after getting her text this morning. I was. I was absolutely devastated. Instead of going home to lick my wounds and wonder at my next move, I stayed at work, throwing myself into the accounting because that at least I could fix. Solve. Whatever. Same thing. I don’t want to fix Leandra. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve always been intrigued by her exactly as she is. I’d never want to fix her in the future either. That word shouldn’t be used with people. It doesn’t work that way.
I thought we were fine. I had no idea if she was mad at me about missing the appointment, but it seemed like it was a heck of a lot more than that. I wanted to drive straight to her boutique and ask her what happened. Make sure she was okay. Try and talk to her again, but the more sensible part of me argued that she either just needed time and had sent that text off at the height of panic, or she really meant it, and if she really meant it, there wasn’t going to be any talking her down.
I could have been mad, but I was more hurt than anything.
I wasn’t angry at Leandra trying to pish me away. I think that’s a pretty natural instinct when someone is challenged or feels threatened or is scared, and everything that we’ve done in the past few weeks has been scary and new for both of us. The coming together of two cataclysmic forces is never easy. Sometimes there’s a storm and a big mess first.
I was hurt, though. Hurt that it appeared that she didn’t trust me. That she wasn’t going to give me the benefit of the doubt or even the benefit of a freaking call or a face to face conversation. Going straight to the whole let’s figure out a custody agreement thing was like a heady dose of salt in some barely healed wounds, and yeah. It stung like a mother.
I reach forward and slowly work the tape free that’s connecting the small white envelope to the flowers. My fingers tremble and my stomach does sick summersaults as I break the seal and pull out a white sheet of paper that’s been folded up many times. It’s a full letter, every inch of the page packed with tiny, neat handwriting.
I can imagine Leandra sitting there writing everything. Not a card. Not a note. A letter.
Daniel,
It was suggested to me that the best way to say everything that’s in my heart is through using the language that you started. I’m new to this and I was using a flower dictionary as a reference, so maybe I’ve got things wrong. If I have, or mixed in flowers that aren’t supposed to go, I hope you can forgive that and understand that I only have the best intentions behind this. It’s fun. And quirky. And cool. I think I might want to communicate like this with you forever. It feels like a secret language that only we’re sharing. I know it was a real language, back in the day, but it feels like a lost art. I love that it’s yet another thing we can share. Something that’s just ours.
Anyway, so I didn’t have a dictionary to send, so I’ll do my best to explain the flowers I picked.
Zinnia. This is supposed to mean friendship that stands the test of time. I hope that we can be friends, always, above all. First and last and everything in between. It’s an honor just to know you and I hope we can build the kind of relationship where we’re two crazy people who can always fall back on the strongest bonds there are. The bonds of friends.
Cornflowers and lilacs- These flowers symbolize hope. Well, mostly hope pertaining to love, which I know is a big word, but I hope one day that we can get there. Friends love. The love of parents. And eventually the love of lovers. The dictionary said to pair this with lilacs, specifically for one’s first love, and I can confidently say that you’re already starting to be that for me. Starting, because I don’t want to scare you. Starting, because I still do believe in being cautious and taking our time, getting to know each other, and forging bonds that will last for a lifetime. But that said, I want you to be my first real love. The first man I ever give my heart to. The first one who gets to know all about the squishy places of me I’ve never opened to anyone else.
