Daisies for Delilah

 The bell tinkled lightly as Gerry strolled into the florist. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the combination of delicate scents in the air. He looked around the small shop and saw many types of flowers – elegant lilies, beautiful roses, bright carnations, and sweet daisies were just some of the blooms on display.

Every time Gerry came to this florist, he would choose something different or ask Lily, the florist, to come up with something special. This was his Friday ritual and the perfect beginning to every weekend.

Delilah adored flowers of all types and Gerry loved to surprise his wife with a different bunch every week. He loved to keep her guessing and see her eyes light up with pleasure every time he handed a bouquet over.

“Hi Gerry,” trilled Lily, from the back of the shop. She knew he’d want his usual order and took pleasure in the fact he didn’t mind what kinds of flowers she used in the bouquet so she could get as creative as she wanted.

Gerry remembered the first time he’d ever bought flowers for Delilah. He didn’t buy flowers before he met her but now he was becoming familiar with all different kinds. The first bouquet he’d gone for was a dozen red roses, which was romantic but not the most original choice.

After that, he’d got more experimental, trying lilies, peonies and carnations, before buying mixed bouquets. Delilah loved those the most. She knew every Friday she would be getting a bouquet of beautiful flowers. She just didn’t know what kind she would get and looked forward to it. So far, she had identified and name every single flower and plant in every bunch.

“I love you, beautiful,” Gerry would tell Delilah with a smile and a kiss, “I’ll always love you, Delilah,” handing her the bouquet which she would admire, sniff appreciatively and display in a vase. Flowers had come to have special significance to them. Gerry never got tired of buying them and Delilah never got tired of receiving her weekly bouquet.

One time, Lily had prepared a stunning bouquet of blue and purple booms. That was one of Delilah’s favorites to date. Another time, she added a playful touch with miniature cabbage plants and eucalyptus. Gerry happened to be allergic to the latter so took care not to touch it himself but he knew Delilah would love the bouquet just as much as all the others.

A few months ago, when Delilah was in the hospital for an overnight stay, Gerry had treated her to not just one bouquet but two. A bouquet of dusky pink peonies and another of calla lilies, so she could enjoy two very different kinds of flowers. Delilah’s face lit up as soon as Gerry came on to the ward, with pleasure at seeing him and also to see she’d been treated to two bouquets.

The last bunch of flowers Gerry bought for Delilah had been Dutch tulips in an array of beautiful pastel hues along with some cream-colored snapdragons. If there was a flower Delilah didn’t like, Gerry hadn’t yet found it.

“Any special requests today, Gerry?” Lily smiled at him. She’d never met Gerry’s wife but thought she must be a very lucky lady to be so loved and treated to flowers every single week without fail. She prepared bouquets for everything from weddings to funerals, but had a soft spot for Gerry because he appreciated her floral artistry so much.

“Whatever you think, Lily,” he shrugged, smiling. She had never met Delilah but knew she was a connoisseur of flowers from what Gerry told her, so immediately began to assemble a bouquet. Gerry watched Lily blend daisies with some pink, purple and tangerine colored flowers, along with baby’s breath and some unusual leaves he didn’t recognize. Her hands flew over the flowers as she carefully selected only the best specimens and arranged them artistically and professionally. The bouquet was then wrapped in cellophane and decorated with narrow pink and purple ribbons. It was just as stunning as every other one he’d ever got from there.

Gerry handed over his credit card and inhaled the aroma from the daisies and other flowers in the bunch. They smelled sweet. He loved the mixture of colors and textures, the innocence of the pretty daisies contrasting with the more colorful blooms.

“Thanks Gerry, you two have a good weekend,” smiled Lily, handing back his credit card.

“You too, Lily” he said, walking out of the shop with the beautiful bouquet. Gerry had learned early on that Delilah loved flowers of every kind, color and description. She grew her own in window boxes and could typically be found outside on the weekends working in the garden. If she hadn’t been the owner of a sandwich shop, Gerry thought she’d have made a terrific florist. But she preferred to keep flowers as a passion rather than a career.

The sky was starting to look gray and Gerry wondered if it was going to rain. The wind had picked up a little. Holding the bouquet closer to his body, Gerry walked briskly up the street. He didn’t pass many people but knew those he did pass would wonder who the flowers were for. Were they an “I love you”? Were they a “congratulations”? Were they an “I’m sorry”? Were they for his wife, his girlfriend, his mother?

The sky had darkened further when Gerry pushed open the heavy gate and a light rain was beginning to fall. Droplets landed on the buds and blooms, giving them an even fresher look, and they also fell on Gerry but he barely noticed the rain or the fact the temperature was dropping.

“I’m nearly there, Delilah,” breathed Gerry, never tiring of hearing her name trip off his tongue. Such a gorgeous name for such a wonderful woman. When Gerry reached his destination, he knelt in the cool, damp grass, placing the daisy-rich bouquet on the grave.

“I miss you, beautiful,” he whispered, a solitary tear making its way down his cheek, “I’ll always miss you, Delilah.”