Maytime

Spring Has Sprung!

Jay West chuckled, reading the sign. Yes, spring had sprung, alright. He felt it everywhere he looked. Fruit trees were blossoming, pollen drifted in thick yellow sheets, bees buzzed, and the sun felt warmer than it had in months. He could scarcely recall the foot-deep snow that had fallen four weeks ago, such was nature's transformation. He strolled into the Kroger store on Main Street feeling reborn -- or about to be.

Cynthia had texted him only an hour ago, making a suggestion that caused something else to spring. He had reshuffled the rest of his day to make it happen. They'd discussed such a coupling before but Jay had dismissed it as impossible. Now, with Diana tied up in meetings until at least the end of the day, doing it in his own bed seemed a natural choice. It turned him on, and he knew it would give Cynthia a delicious thrill.

He had a spring in his step as he hustled past the lawn and landscaping materials the store always pushed out this time of year. Jay caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and felt like a superstar: a hot young lawyer driving a $50K sports car was sure to attract attention. And he'd certainly caught Cynthia's eye. He passed a buxom female on his way into the store and couldn't help but grin. She gave a faint, insinuating smile, perhaps subconsciously aware of the pheromones he was emitting. Hell, he thought, maybe I oughta stop and get your name, too.

Jay grabbed a buggy with no intention of filling it or buying any food. He had one thing in mind, something he'd always thought of, for no particular reason other than it seemed ... funky. He'd stopped buying Diana flowers years ago -- why keep working at something that already felt dead? -- but the idea of getting Cynthia flowers all but burned a hole in his brain. There was nothing romantic about what they did -- she worked in a bar, for Christ's sake -- but the idea of introducing a little romance to their "relationship" gave him a tawdry thrill. It was almost like insulting Diana behind her back, which, he supposed, he'd been doing for the past six months. This made his act feel that much naughtier.

He pushed his buggy to the floral department between the bakery and the frozen section. A regular florist would have offered a better selection, but hell, he figured, this wasn't Pride & Prejudice. This was just a harmless gesture meant to juice up the feels. Besides, Kroger was on the way home; the nearest florist was at least a couple of blocks over. This saved time as well as money. Frugality, thought Jay, is a virtue.

Confronted with an array of choices, he stopped in his tracks, his jaw unhinging. Shit. It'd been so long since he'd bought flowers, he'd forgotten which ones were the most, er, suggestive. He hoped some lovely single mom would stop and help, but at 10:30 a.m., he was the only one buying flowers.

He scanned the red roses, lilacs and orchids. None of them seemed right. He had no idea what flower Cynthia would prefer. It shouldn't be all that hard; she was, after all, Diana's sister, for God's sake. Their tastes ought to match! It hadn't been that long since he'd bought Diana flowers. He remembered the pink carnations he'd once taken her, back when they were courting. Those had gone over well.

With a grin, he snatched a small green pot of carnations, set them in his buggy, and hustled off to the checkout. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed a pack of condoms.

The house was shady and quiet when he pulled into the driveway. Signs of spring were everywhere (spring has sprung!). Jay galloped into the house, carnations in hand. He had a plan; he only had to execute. Whistling some power ballad from the Eighties, he proceeded straight to the bedroom and undressed. He was a slender, well-muscled, handsome man. Who wouldn't want him? Certainly not Diana. She had her chance every night, and continually missed it. Cynthia, however, was downright carnivorous. He looked forward to kissing her supple breasts, running his hands along her flat, tender stomach. Climbing onto the bed, he felt as if he might burst.

He lay flat on his back and carefully placed the container on his most private (yet ostentatious) area. He had to be careful -- no dirt could spill on Diana's precious comforter or carpet! (She put down towels on the few occasions they made love, so she wouldn't have to stay up all night washing the sheets.) He placed the condoms on the nightstand, not caring whether they used one or not.

The flowers quivered between his thighs. He could picture Cynthia walking in and finding him "nekkid" on the bed covers, his privates hidden beneath the carnations. He imagined the look of surprise on her face when she lifted the pot by its handle, proving the adage that spring had, indeed, sprung.

After a few minutes, Jay heard a car pull into the driveway. Covered in gooseflesh, he lay back, waiting. He was perfectly positioned, the carnations making a suggestive target. Outside, the car engine switched off, and the door shut. He heard heels clicking on the pavement. Cynthia usually wore heels, but these sounded suspiciously like ... flats? It was more of a scraping step than Cynthia's tap-tap-tap.

Diana wore flats.

Jay cleared his throat, careful not to move. The pot now weighed heavily on his groin. It was full to the brim with soil. He heard the front door open and a woman's voice: "Jay?"

Damn it! He'd thoughtlessly parked his car in the front driveway. A cold blade sliced across his heart. Jay lay perfectly still, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah?" he croaked.

He heard her shoes squeaking on the polished wood floor. "Honey? What are you doing home? I called the office and they said you'd rushed out."

Her shadow fell across the floor as she approached from the hall. Sweating, Jay pushed up on his elbows, muscles frozen.

At that moment, Diana -- sweet, perplexed, starry-eyed -- poked her head in the door, a toothy grin on her face. "What are you doing home? I swung by for a sand--"

Her words sputtered out as she saw the naked display. Jay stared helplessly at her, struggling to find words. Diana blinked in shock, speechless. Her eyes roved to the nightstand.

"You bought rubbers?"

The carnations answered for him, tumbling off his crotch to land upside down on her comforter. What sprang up in place of the flowers put Diana in mind of pollination, rejuvenation. Afterward, she spent hours picking Miracle-Gro out of the carpet.