Into the Sunlight

I’ll never forget the first time I conjured a flower.

I was 13, standing in my childhood backyard. As I closed my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, something took root in my mind and drew my attention into the ground. An actual root formed in the dirt near my feet. When I raised my hands and opened my eyes, there was a red tulip in the ground that hadn’t been there before. “Mom!” I called. Before she could dash into the backyard to view my accomplishment, our golden retriever Nugget already had it in his mouth, gnashing the petals between his teeth.

It didn’t matter. I conjured another one, a daffodil. My mom applauded and proclaimed that it was her ancestor's genes that had given me this gift. My father wasn’t around to claim that it was his side of the gene pool.

My conjuring skills have been called a gift, but it has its drawbacks. My mom doesn’t appreciate my flowers for Mother’s Day because “it doesn’t require any effort” for me. I endured countless years of teasing because I was named Lily, long before my parents knew I had "flower power." And sometimes I wonder why I was given such a limiting superpower that I can't use to fight crime. I can’t even conjure trees, which are more useful for providing clean air. 

Over time, I used my mysterious power to build a business, where the glamorous people in my picturesque town pay me exorbitant fees to spruce up their gardens. That's how I found myself now at a stranger’s picturesque house on Valentine’s Day. I knocked on the teal door, and a tall lady with long brown hair opened it. She looked at me expectantly.

“Hello, Angela,” I said. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m here from Instant Lilies. I have a commission from Brandon Miller to improve your garden in an instant.” I handed her a pamphlet, along with my business card and a greeting card from my client.

A strange look flashed across her face. “Ah yes, from my boyfriend. Come on in.”

I stepped into her house, which was sparkling clean, the kind of clean and neat that could only be achieved by maids. I followed her to the backyard, and she opened a glass door to show me an immaculate lawn.

“Have at it,” she said, flashing her sparkling teeth at me. She stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee. I walked to the center of the lawn and closed my eyes. Waving my hands, I felt a series of flowers grow and bloom instantly. When I opened my eyes again, there was an array of flowers in the shape of a heart, accompanied by Angela in cursive letters. When I turned around again, Angela’s mouth was open.

“How did you do that?” she asked. “That’s amazing!"

I shrugged and walked back in the house. “It’s the job. Thanks for letting me in. Have a nice day.”

“Wait, Lily,” she said, as I headed for the front door. I see she had bothered to read my name off the business card. “Did…did Brandon commission you to do any other gardens?”

“No,” I said. I sensed she wanted to talk more, so I faked a smile and edged towards the door.

“Oh,” she said. “I wondered if he had asked you to do this for someone else. Or…his wife."

Her eyes were wide and beseeching, as if she had been waiting to tell someone her secret. Maybe I could have cared about this, before. 

But it didn’t matter. I nodded politely and left.

***

The alarm clock rang, and I slammed my hand down on it. I lay awake in bed, feeling the emptiness wash over me, paralyzing me. I started yelling at myself in my head. Stupid Lily, lazy Lily, why can’t you just get up? Why aren’t you more disciplined? Why can't you go to work?

No. My therapist had told me to stop these thoughts. I took a deep breath, like he taught me. The thoughts came back in full force. Your life is great. You have no reason to be sad. Stop it, dumbass.

I struggled with myself for another hour before I was able to leave my bed. I then walked to my tiny office a few blocks away. It was filled with flowers in pots, in case one of the wandering tourists who came inside wanted to mix and match their own bouquets. I didn't bother watering them. When they started to wilt, I just threw them away and conjured new ones. 

I didn't have to be anywhere until the afternoon, so I spent the morning doing accounting and booking online orders. Lunch was a wilted salad from the grocery next door. Sometime in the afternoon, a woman walked in - a very tall brunette woman. It was Angela, from yesterday’s gig. 

“Hi, Lily? It’s Angela. You came to my house yesterday? You know, you really have a perfect name for a flower business. ”

“Hi Angela, how are you enjoying the flowers?”

“Great! I’m shit about keeping flowers alive though.”

I used to stay with clients for a while during visits, going over all the flowers and how to care for them. Now it’s hard to care if they live or die. It’s a struggle just to do my basic job. I gave Angela my favorite catchphrase: "Google it.”

She waved her hand casually. “My gardener will know what to do.” She peered around my shop. “So you call your store Instant Lilies? It sounds like you need a catchier name. How about Flower Witch?” She waved her hands in the air like she was doing magic.

“No way,” I said. “Kids in school used to call me Flower Bitch.” 

She laughed, so I twisted my face into a semblance of a smile. It must have looked more like a cringe, because she stopped laughing and started looking around my desk awkwardly. 

“Hey, do you have any other employees?”

“No, I do everything myself,” I said, waving my hands around my cluttered desk.

 "Can I help you out here? As a volunteer? I can come in any time you’d like.”

“Why?” I peer at her suspiciously.

She shrugged. “I don’t have much to do all day. I would appreciate…having a purpose."

“Really? You don’t have a job?”

“I don’t need one.”

I weighed my options. I hated driving, but conversing with strangers in Ubers was no picnic either. Angela was a stranger as well, but I felt oddly comforted by her presence. She also must have driven here in a decent car. “Well, do you want to take me to my next gig?”

She grinned. “It would be my pleasure."

***

I stared down at the coffin, dry-eyed. Next to me, Angela is sobbing.

I would rather just do the job and leave, but the family had paid for me to be part of the memorial. My magic was a big attraction that many were eager to see, even after death.

The pastor finished his speech, leaving behind a silence filled by the sounds of sobbing. I looked around at the mourners gathered around the coffin. The pastor nodded at me, and that was my cue. I closed my eyes and raised my arms. A wave of flowers appeared around the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. Some people clapped, while others cried harder. I longed to join in, to experience emotions like the rest of humanity. 

After the ceremony, Angela was still sobbing as we walked back to the car. “That was a beautiful ceremony, wasn’t it?”

I didn’t answer. I hoped that she was to busy crying to notice that I wasn’t. I glanced at her. Was she okay to drive? It was too late; she had gotten in the driver’s seat.

“That was a beautiful thing you did there,” she repeated, after we had been on the road for a while.

“Maybe. I’ve seen different reactions from different people. Some people find flowers to be an empty gesture, and some are touched. I'm sure some people back there thought my performance was a flashy and unnecessary distraction.”

“That’s not fair. You’re trying to do a service for them.”

“Yeah, sometimes. But I also get sixteen-year old boys asking me to make flower arrangements in the shape of male genitalia to impress their prom date.”

“Yikes!” She laughed.

We drove on in silence, until we were almost back at the shop. I was looking out the window, but I could feel her glancing over at me. I tensed up. I knew that look. Was she going to call me a robot? Tell me to go to the doctor?

“Are you okay, Lily?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You seem sad.”

“I’m not sad.” I really wasn't. But I was getting angry. Irrationally so.

“Do you want to grab dinner?”

“No, take me back to the flower shop, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Drop me off, please.” My voice was too loud. She pulled over next to the shop, and I quickly got out. The regret hit me as soon as I shut the door. I wanted to open it again and say something, but she drove off. The thoughts started up again: You always push everyone away.

*** 

The next morning, I barely made it out of bed and dragged myself to the shop. Some of the flowers were wilted, but I headed straight for my desk. 

During my email-checking session, Angela came in. I felt a weight lift from my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“No worries,” she said. “I know we’ve only met for a day, and I shouldn’t have poked at you so personally.”

I nodded. We both said nothing.

“The truth is,” she said, “You remind me of myself. Four years ago."

 “What do you mean?” 

She sat in a chair off to the side. “Just…feeling sad. Like a worthless human being. Like I couldn’t get out of bed. I mean, you saw my house. My parents are rich and I have everything I could ever want. I didn’t have a right to be sad.” She laughed. “Why do you think I’m with a married man like Brandon? I never thought I’d sink so low. But my self-esteem was the worst it’s ever been, and he was the first person to make me feel something, anything! Now that I feel stronger, I’ve been finding the courage to crawl my way out of that relationship. I want to find real happiness without needing him.”

I feel her words resonating in my chest. I played with a pencil on my desk. “I used to love my life. I used to see the beauty in my flowers and my job. And then one day, I just stopped feeling anything. I don’t know why, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? Sometimes there isn’t a reason for sadness.”

Angela reached forward and put her hand on mine. “Depression’s a bitch.” We smiled at each other.

“You know,” she said, “I think meeting you has given me the courage to break up with him.” Her face was moving closer to mine... but then she stood up and waved her arms at our surroundings.

“Your flower magic is amazing! I don’t think I’d ever get tired of watching it.” She turned to the pots in the store, picked one up, and cradled it in her hands. “Look at this! You perform miracles every day! You made this with your bare hands, out of absolutely nothing!"

It’s a stupid thing. So embarrassing that I can't even say it out loud. But when Angela stared at that rose, cradling it in her hands like a precious gem, I thought about how she was revering something so insignificant, that I had made so easily and naturally, the way I make my burps. And that cracked me up so much that laughter started pouring out of me. I got so emotional at finally feeling enjoyment in something that I began to cry. And then I laughed because of how stupid it was that I was crying. Angela joined me in my crying and laughter, even though she didn’t know the joke. I felt a glimmer of something like hope.

I won’t lie and say that moment cured me. There were plenty of bad days afterwards - many that had me lying on the floor, unable to silence my own cruel thoughts. But I remembered that day of laughter with Angela like it was the first glimpse of a flower poking its way out of the dirt. 

I still conjured flowers for Instant Lilies gigs, but I started learning how to grow them for real. I tended to them day by day, like I did with my friendship with Angela, like I learned to do with myself. One day, I hope, I’ll finally let myself grow into the sunlight.