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“That’s true. She has always been so nice. And to think it was a chance meeting.”
I thought back.
This was the hardest day. Even my flowers couldn’t make me smile. Because she was in them, all over them. My mother was everything to me. And she left so soon, too soon. She loved flowers, every time we were together, she was planting flowers. Our garden was bigger than any other, and the most beautiful. She used to travel a lot, exploring all types of flowers. My father was a botanist, that’s how she got into it.
“Excuse me miss, are these for sale?” Were they talking to me?
I set my clippers down and turned to face the voice. I shielded my eyes from the sun with my gloved hand. A kind woman stood in front of me, her petty coat looked like it cost more than my monthly tuition.
“Not usually.” I answered simply.
She opened up the small gate I had and stepped inside. I used the university green room a lot, and I had never seen her. I thought I had seen everyone that came around here.
“Are you visiting?” I asked her. She continued to look upon the flowers, her cream-colored gloves covered her delicate hands.
She looked like a business woman of some sort. Her brown hair was in a nice pin up style, her petty coat a professional shade of blue, and her slacks opened up at the bottom to a pair of heels.
“Oh, no. I was here for a meeting. I’m Sasha Hallows.” My eyes widened in shock. Could it really be her?
She was the only reason I was at this school. Her scholarship fund was paying for everything. Room, board, books, tuition. My grades earned it, but she definitely made it possible.
“Whoa, I’m one of your scholarship recipients.” I gushed. She smiled as if she knew, but that would be a little too creepy.
“How wonderful…you planted all of these?” she smiled, gesturing to my small cube of flowers.
I had pretty much everything currently in season. Dogwoods, winterberries, heathers, paperback maples, and firethorns. I was still working on getting the camellias to grow right, but they were at least budding.
“Yes, I did. I study botany here.” I took after my dad in that sense.
“That’s delightful,” her eyes strayed past me, “are those winter jasmines?” My breath froze. I couldn’t talk about winter jasmines, I could do nothing but water them every day.
“Um, yes.”
“You could sell these flowers, you know. They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. I sell them during Valentine’s Day and Christmas, but I never do otherwise.”
“Well, you could. I would definitely buy some. Those jasmines are beautiful.” She stepped closer to them, and I all but blocked her from coming any closer. Her smile quickly faded, and I struggled to explain myself.
“The jasmines are…private. Well, they were my mother’s favorite flower and she passed away.”
Her hands crossed over her chest as her face softened.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Was it recent?”
I shook my head. “No, when I was twelve. But…it happened today.”
I wondered why I was giving a complete stranger all this information, but something made me feel like I could trust her. Perhaps it was because she was older, and kind of reminded me of my mother in a way. Her eyes had wonder, hope, and believed when others didn’t.
Just like my mother.
“That is so unfortunate, she liked flowers?” She guessed.
“Yes, she loved them. I suppose I grew to love them too.” I offered a sad smile.
“Well, you grow them so beautifully. You should be very proud of yourself.”
“Thank you.”
