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I tuck my phone back into my dress pocket. Focus, Delaney. Don't look so desperate, lay off the rapid responses to him. Let him wait it out for at least a minute or two. Luckily, an older woman comes in as I finish filling the last bud vase on the front table.
"Hi, welcome to Thornes In Bloom. Is there anything specific I can help you find?"
Her hair is white and wispy, arranged into tight curls on her head. She is shorter than me, her spine curving in her old age. Her fingers tickle along the petals of white roses near the register. The ripples of the petals mirror the wrinkles on her weathered hands. Both delicate and both beautiful.
"White roses have always been my favorite. My third husband used to bring them home every Wednesday to celebrate another week of being married. I lost him a few months ago and have missed having roses in the house."
Her story has me wondering what her first two husbands did to be demoted. I'm guessing she is around eighty years old since she looks like she could be my grandmother. And her life has clearly been filled with adventure if she has convinced so many men to commit to forever with her, even if they didn't make it there.
"Roses arean acquired smell for sure. People who love them, love them with everything. Those who don't like the smell write off the flower entirely. So many people attribute them with love, ironically I don't much care for the scent of them." I explain, moving closer to her and touching a nearby flower in the same manner that she did, my fingers gliding across the smooth petals. The softness of flower petals never ceases to amaze me. Something that comes from dirt can become something so breathtaking and delicate, the sweet floral aroma replacing the smell of damp mud.
"Can I get a bundle of these please? I think it's time I brought the light back into the house."
I am honored she chose my shop to come into today. That when she was finally at peace with her grief enough to bring the joy back to herself, it was with something I made, helping them grow in the garden I built. I place the rose stems onto the brown paper, adding some baby's breath along with some sprigs of greenery to bring in more color. The sticker with my logo seals the wrapping around the flowers, their heads poking out of the top like a freshly swaddled newborn.
"I'm sorry I didn't catch your name." I prompt, my curiosity piqued. With her name, I might be able to research what happened to her other husbands. That and I want to connect with my customers.
"My friends call me Nan, but my real name is Nancy Knowles."
I refuse her credit card when she tries to hand it to me. Business is important, of course, and money will keep this place open. But connecting with the people in my community is even bigger than that.
"Next time you need a bouquet, you come back and see me.Promise?"
"You're too kind to a little old lady like me. You made my day, dear. Thank you. I will be sure to add to my will that all flowers need to be purchased here or I will come back and haunt them all."
We share a laugh before she leaves, her white roses and the white curls atop her head a perfect match. Once she is around the corner and out of sight, I check my phone once more. I save his number in my contacts, his name at the top of our message thread providing a comfort deep in my belly. Knowing our line of communication is back online has me smiling at the screen.
I have been beating myself up with ricochets for years. Trust me, there's plenty of room for that here without adding anyone else into the mix. If there are more of us, maybe you can keep that as your own little secret.
Knowing that I've never allowed anyone else to get close since him makes me wonder if he has opened up his heart to someone else. And knowing Carina is a potential thorn between us now has me pocketing my phone without replying.
Delaney is flirting, there's no question about that. Did I want this to happen? It wasn't the goal but I am having a hard time not giving in to the familiar way it makes my stomach tighten. At the end of the day, we have unfinished shit to work through that I have struggled to get through on my own.
She was my first girlfriend and back then, her breaking things off without letting me help her through things was like a kick in the face. Rumors spread like wildfire, accusations and conjectures about what really happened between us. Teenagers love a good story topped with drama and my version of what happened wasn't juicy enough to satisfy them. Without Delaney at school to back me up, I couldn't snuff out the lies. She wasn't talking to anyone, myself included. Her dad pulled her out of school only a few days before the end of senior year and I didn't know how to spend my days without her there. Without her excited smile when she saw me across the hall between classes. Or the way her gentle peck as we parted ways would keep me floating on cloud nine.
And now she is back in my life, flirting with me through a screen and acting like nothing happened before. Our history has been wiped clean. If I could erase the painful parts and keep the best ones, I would do it in a heartbeat. When all is said and done, the way she is acting like it meant nothing to her is starting to bother me a little.
Old habits die hard. The banter, the texting nonstop, it all brings me back to when we first started dating. My mom hated how much I looked at my phone.Your neck is going to get stuck like thatshe would say, curving her back into an exaggerated hunch to drive home her point. She loved Delaney once she met her, the two of them instantly bonding over some chick shit that Mom never got to talk about in a house full of boys.
Mom and I competed to see who took the breakup worse. I was sad as hell but she was about to burn seventeen year old Delaney at the stake for breaking her baby's heart.
First love runs through you like a freight train moving at top speed, no brakes, only heartbreaks.
Does Carina know?
This is the first time she has brought up the date and acknowledged that we have history. Emotions are hard to read through text, but she might be jealous. Bryn told me they were all friends which has me wondering if something was said between them after I left.
Not sure, I haven't really talked to her since last night.
It was a first date that ended abruptly thanks to me. But being confronted with Delaney had my mind turning like a blender. And now I'm lying here on the couch flirtingwith the girl who broke my heart. It's totally fine.
Fuck, when I saw Delaney last night, everything about going on a date with someone else felt wrong. My heart plummeted into my ass, or at least that's what it felt like. Had I been stalking her social media accounts? Yes. Did I mentally prepare myself to run into her? Absolutely not. I didn't even know she opened a flower shop. If she was advertising it, I would never have seen it. And since I never buy flowers, except from the grocery store for my mom on Mother's Day, there was no way I would have even known the shop existed. Until Carina took me there as a way to prolong our date.
I for sure wasn't thinking of coming to a flower arranging class when she suggested a "fun creative adventure to help us get to know each other." Nothing against dates that stray from the normal dinner and a movie or grabbing drinks, but flower arranging is far from anything I have interest in doing. That's something chicks go and do with their friends so they can complain freely about their male counterparts. Everyone else understood that based on the minimal male population there last night, consisting only of me and what I believe was a gay couple.
Plus, there was a whole ass bachelorette party or birthday thing, I'm not sure which. All I know is that for the few minutes I was there, they took at least three shots and kept cheering for the girl in the tiara.
Neither have I but wanted to make sure we are painting the same picture for her about our relationship.
