Flowers

Flowers

Anna locked her front door, got into her van and started up the engine. It was 4 am and dark but she had to get to the flower market early to be in time to choose good quality flowers.

The day was overcast with a promise of rain and she huddled into her jacket to keep warm. Her long hair was tucked under a beanie and her jeans a bit ragged at the knees. It was a struggle to look smart when she got up so early. She had not given her appearance attention for some time.

At the market, her eye caught some fresh Inca lilies and with a generous assortment of these white and orange blooms, she added roses, dahlias, pansies and yarrows to the selection.

Inside the shop, she took some flowers from the fridge and started to rearrange them, mixing them with some of the fresh flowers from the market place.

Thirty minutes later the door bell at the front of the shop chimed. A gentleman walked in.

“Good morning , I noticed that you had the ‘open’ sign outside and I am hoping I may buy a bunch of flowers from you. Is it too early? Only 8 o’clock?”

“Not at all, do come in and have a look round for a moment, I am busy setting some arrangements up, to put in the window. I normally open the shop at eight. I am a few minutes early. That is a privilege of having my own shop.”

He browsed around for a few minutes. She watched him looking at the Inca lilies, he was tall and well built with muscular arms stretching out his shirt sleeves. He had light brown hair brushed over his head which sprang up in a few curls at the top giving him a school boy look. No hair gel would tame those curls, she thought. He carried a jacket over his arm and looked elegant in neat black chinos, most probably he was on his way to work.

“I’d like something small, not too large, a bouquet and a few pieces of green with a wrap of cellophane.”

Anna took some Forget Me Knots  and a few stems of yellow Cape Honeysuckle. Keeping it simple she added a few sprigs of silver leafed Dusty Miller. In the centre she put a single white rose for a focal point. Tying it all up with a strip of floral tape and a small piece of wire, then ribbon, she handed it over.

“There you are sir, will that do?”

“That is perfect, thank you,” smiling at her engagingly.

Anna was pleased with the reception of the flowers. She had used her knowledge of complimentary colours and textures. She hoped his wife or girlfriend would be thrilled with the gift.

A week later the same customer came in at 8 o’clock.

“Could you make me another small bouquet as you did, last week?

This time Anna found three red roses which she matched with some Cape Myrtle and a single red and white carnation. Again she was putting complimentary colours together.

“Sir, do you like this one?” she asked.

He took it smilingly and said again.

“Perfect.”

Anna was mystified and wondered who the lucky person was to receive a small bouquet every week. She thought perhaps the recipient was a patient in hospital , or a young woman for whom the young man had an affection.

He came again, at 8 o’clock the next week and then every Tuesday after, always asking for a small bouquet. Every week Anna delved into her well of knowledge to produce the best tussie- mussie.

Anna began to grow fond of this particular client. He brightened up the mornings when he came into the shop. He was always friendly and smiling and chatted about the weather and the daily news.

“By the way, my name is Julian. I see your shop is called ‘Anna’s Florist.’ Is your name Anna?”

She began to look in the market for suitable flowers for small arrangements. It became a goal every Tuesday morning to find the right blossoms to please this customer.

Anna started to change her arrangements from simply having eye appeal and looking artistic to expressing a thought or sentiment. She started studying her books on floriography which had always fascinated her. The Victorians had sent their lovers secret messages in gifts of flowers. This was useful when lovers were not permitted to spend time alone with each other.

One Tuesday she found some blue Periwinkles and attached them to a twig or two of Dogwood and three sprays of fern. The three plants were a message of early friendship, durability and fascination. As she handed the arrangement to Julian she said’

“ I hope you like this collection today. Let me know if your freind enjoys it.”

“ I will, thank you Anna.” She felt her heart beat quicken, as he said her name.

The next Tuesday, Anna made a bouquet of white Magnolias combining them with orange Honeysuckle and Fern. The message was one of a love of nature and devotion.

“Good Morning Julian, I was hoping that you would pop in. I have your bouquet ready. I always think Magnolias and Honeysuckle go so well together, the orange setting off the white of the Magnolia which always has shades of blue in the folds of its petals.”

“They look lovely Anna. See you next week.”

Anna was tempted to be daring and found a few Chrysanthemums to which she added some Nightshade and Fern, sending a message of love and truth. This was on her part a declaration of love but she felt safe in that Julian was unaware of the language of flowers. Her own awareness of being had expanded, making her daily life exciting, where before it had been one of routine and dull repetition. Her cheeks began to glow and there was a spring in her step. She started smiling at everyone as if the happiness inside her had to escape.

Now in the mornings, she dressed with care, particularly on Tuesdays. She stopped wearing her old beanie to cover her hair. She brushed it into curling fronds of golden light.

 Tuesday came and Julian stepped into the shop. This time he had a request.

“Good Morning Anna, Do you think you could make me a special bouquet for next week? It will be for someone special. I would like it to be made with Coreopsis, Prunus dulcis and Forget Me Knots, with an orange coloured rose in the centre.”

“Of course I can try to see if I can find those for you,” said Anna looking puzzled.

That evening late, Anna thought this over. She looked up the biggest floriography book on the shelf and saw the sentiments expressed were those of ‘love at first sight’, ‘hope’ , ‘true love’ and ‘desire’.

“Hmmmm, Julian knows a bit about floriography and flowers himself. He used the botanical names too. What a coincidence that he seems to understand the language of flowers, lucky girl to have such an admirer! He chooses an orange rose not any other colour but orange, which means ‘desire’.”

The next week Julian turned up on the dot of eight.

“Good Morning Anna. How are this morning?”

“Well, thank you Julian and I have your tussie-mussie ready for you. It was quite difficult finding an orange rose this morning but I found one and here it is in the middle of the posy. You seem to have chosen flowers with special meanings to them. Are you aware of that?”

“Yes, I am aware, just as I am aware that you were up to the same thing yourself the past few weeks.”

“You said this week’s flowers were for someone special? I hope whoever it is will understand the sentiments expressed here so beautifully.”

“ I am giving them to you this morning Anna.”

Anna felt a sensation of elation overwhelming her whole being.

“Thank you Julian, I think I have to answer you in like manner, I will find the right flowers in a moment but first may I ask who the other bouquets were for? You have been coming to my shop for 32 weeks. What did you do with all of the others?”

“I gave them to my mother. I must confess now that I have had my eyes on you for some time. I first saw you driving your van, with flowers and plants spilling out of the windows. You looked adorable with your disregard to your physical attractions. When you turned into this parking area I realized you were the florist.  I wasn’t free to pay you attention until last week, when my divorce came through. My wife who is a paralegal, ran off with her boss after 6 years of marriage.

I didn’t want you to think I was stalking you and had to have some excuse for getting to know you."

Anna looked at him, smiling. 

“I think I have to give you an answer.”

Searching on the shelves, she put together a small bunch of Cape Myrtle, a Rose and a spray of Cape Jasmine and pinned it onto his shirt front.

“ Myrtle for love, a Rose for love and Jasmine for happiness. Can I assume there may be hope for me in this unusual courtship? May I hope that we will never lose the art of the language of flowers between the two of us, it being also, the language of love, in this ‘ best of all possible worlds.’”