Over by the Flowers

OVER BY THE FLOWERS

The Saturday market is busy when I arrive, with long lines cascading from every stall and shop even though it’s only half-past eight. Someone’s shouting that their apples are only six dollars a kilogram, while their opposition claims theirs is five dollars. The haggling has already begun, it seems. Weaving through the multitudes of people, I slip past the crowds and head to one of the many flower shops, ‘The Right Season’. This place is my favourite over ‘Busy Bee’ and ‘Flowery Language’, but the local review says both are equally good. But maybe I’m biased because this store has Ines’ favourite flower. The door opens with its friendly bell chime and a young woman with pastel pink-streaked brown hair smiles.

“Good morning, Campbell. The usual?” 

“Morning, Heidi. Yes, if you don’t mind,”

“Not at all,” Heidi walks in front of the counter, rushing over to the tulips sections, selecting a vibrant bouquet of orange, yellow, pink and white tulips. “Will this do?”

“Splendidly,” I nod, reaching for my phone to pay.

“Your Ines is one lucky woman, Campbell, if you buy her flowers every Saturday,” Heidi remarks as the machine beeps, confirming the payment.

“I do my best,” I thank the owner of ‘The Right Season’ and head out with the tulips carefully wrapped in a plastic and brown paper hug. 

“See you next Saturday!” 

The streets have gotten busier as it nears nine o’clock, families gracing the market with their amused beams and chubby fingers pointing at everything within a one-hundred-metre distance. The notion reminds me of my family, how we used to parade the market streets, my brother and I, tempted to touch everything and anything within our reach. Mother had always laughed at our antics, as Father told us not to put our “grubby kid hands” all over the place. He enjoyed watching us, though. They both did.

“Excuse me, may I offer you a reading this fine morning?” Someone calls out to me, their eyes full of desperation so early on a Saturday. I have time, so I sit on the rickety wooden stool and let the woman take my palm.

“What’s happening in my future?” I ask, playing along.

“Hmm, let’s see. Well, your lover, oh! Your lover is meeting with you today. They’ll be delighted with your gift. But first, you will attend a meeting with others, though you have no present for them. The weather will be good for you in the coming days, and you will have reason to smile throughout the week,”

“Sounds nice,” I muse, pleasantly surprised at the vagueness yet accuracy of the reading. “Thank you for your time.” I hand the woman a ten-dollar note before straightening my coat and walk out.

“Come again soon!”

Live music has started to swell across the market, a man singing a song from the King of Rock and Roll himself, the gentleness of his tone as he sings of falling in love. I toss in a coin, and he smiles with such tenderness I can’t help but smile back. Further down, a trio of teenagers, a pianist, a guitarist and a vocalist, are pouring their hearts out with a popular boy group’s song about grief. The sound is rawer than the man’s vocals; the first heartbreak has only just plagued the girls, unlike the man who has been there before and sings entirely of adoration. I toss in two coins this time, getting placid nods and smiles as they sing the song angelically. I think Ines would like to hear them play.

“The fact that there is no more tomorrow in our yesterday that was today. Even though it hurt, it dragged on more. I loved you”.

I leave the market in one piece, the flowers poking their heads out from the side of my bag. Arriving home, I carefully place the flowers on my dining table. I’ll collect them when I meet Ines later today.

“New message from Mallory,” My smartwatch buzzes excitedly, “New message from Mallory,”

“Yes, thank you,” I sigh, turning off the notification. 

‘Campbell, my friend! If you’re not at the Solstice Tavern in fifteen minutes. You’ll hear from me. And it won’t be pretty; you didn’t show up last time. Mallory x’

“I suppose I’m pretty lucky,” I mumble to myself. “Mal has always been too good of a friend to me.” Fifteen minutes later, I’m in the seat of my car, debating whether I should go inside. The bouquet in the back seat stares at me encouragingly. Guilt wins, and I step out, anxiously pushing the bar’s door open.

“Campbell!” Cheers erupt from a long table in the corner. I watch as a handful of people make their way towards me excitedly.

“Campbell, it’s so good to see you,” a young woman gushes, hugging me.

“It’s nice to see you too, Demi. I like your new hair colour,”

“You’re too kind, Cam. I hate it,” Demi winks before sitting back at the table.

“Campbell, it’s been so long,” a broad-shouldered man punches my shoulder playfully. “You never visit us anymore,”

“With due apologies, Mr Kincade, duty calls,” I grin as Rayyan pushes me teasingly again.

“Campbell,” the final voice rings out to me with sternness.

“Hi, Mal,”

“Don’t ‘Mal’ me, Campbell. You haven’t come to any of our meet-ups!” The woman’s red hair matches the angry flush on her cheeks.

“As I told Rayyan, I’ve been busy, Mallory,”

“Oh, then I’m getting married. That’s a lie, Cam. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere,” I sigh lethargically. “Come on, Mal, let’s save this for another time. I’m seeing Ines later, and I don’t want to be late,” The words soften her gaze as she looks at me more gently.

“Alright, I’m sorry. It is good to see you, though,” Mallory slings an arm around my shoulder, dragging me over to the table full of my old high-school classmates. "Campbell’s here, everyone!” There’s another round of cheers as glasses clink enthusiastically.

“Want a drink?” Rayyan asks me, but I shake my head. 

“I’m driving.” is my reply, and he hands me a cup of water instead. I ignore Mallory’s gaze as I drink the water in one go.

At last, I leave the bar, the sound of disappointed groans and shouts following me. Someone tells me to get a life, but I don’t take it to heart. My cohort always was crazy when drunk. I start the engine before turning onto the main road. Ines is waiting. The traffic isn’t as bad as I thought as I drive for another five minutes, my hands gripping the wheels’ leather. Distracted by the clear skies, the last turn is abrupt, as I nearly miss the entrance. There’s an abundance of parking which is reassuring. I hurry out of my car, the bouquet tightly in my grip. I sprint down the rows of houses, racing towards Number 19’s door. The front gate is already open, as Ines’ name, engraved at the front of her dwelling, shines from the sun’s rays.

“Hi, Ines,” I greet as I kneel at the solid stone before me. I place the tulips on the side of the grave sadly. “I miss you, my love. But I got you your favourite flowers; they had all the right colours. And I know I say this every time, but I sound crazy, talking to a gravestone. But I hope you can hear me wherever you are. I met up with Mallory and the others today. It’s been a while since I’ve done that. Mal and Rayyan kept asking me how I was, but no one brought you up. I think it scared them, knowing it hasn’t been that long since your passing.” I forget about the dirt and sit cross-legged on the ground.

“Your mother is doing well. She misses you, of course, as your father and brother, but they’re doing okay. If you’re worrying about them, there’s no need to. I think, though, and maybe it’s selfish to say this, but I miss you more. They never craved your touch the way I did. No one did, truthfully. If someone else besides me did, you’d have more flowers. But I’ll keep buying them for you, anyway. Heidi, that’s the florist, she thinks it’s endearing I buy you flowers every week. Then again, Heidi doesn’t know you’re gone. But that’s fine with me. If it means being able to keep you closer to my heart, then I suppose it’s alright. I'm doing okay, I think. It's strange. I always expect to see you in the morning when I wake up, but you're never there. Maybe, if there's such a thing in the next life, we'll find each other again." A notification goes off as my phone buzzes. I ignore it and press the palms of my hands to my eyes.

"I love you, Ines."