The Flower Booth

"Hey, grandma. Could you tell me the story of how you and grandpa met?"

I turned to look at Marco, my precious gem of a grandson and smiled.

"Are you not tired of hearing the story?" I chided him in jest, but he merely grinned and shook his head, his mop of unruly curls bouncing as he did. His mannerisms were so similar to those of Edward that I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips. Almost immediately, his face fell.

"Sorry, grandma," He murmured, looking away from me. “It’s probably a bad idea huh?”

"Oh sugar, nothing you do can ever make me sad." I looked around the house, hearing the silence that enveloped me and threatened to bring us down, then turned back to him.

"Why don't we go on a little adventure?" I gave him a smile as grandmotherly as I could and I watched the stars in his eyes light up.

As Marco pushed us in the direction of the park, the winter wind blew cold against our faces. But the birds were chirping again and I could smell the scent of spring, just as I had decades ago.

It was a stormy day when I pushed my cartful of flowers into the park that was decorated for the Spring Festival, my stall was located at the very back of the park. The flowers in the cart swayed from the force of the wind, almost snapping in half at the force of the wind. Despite my best efforts, a quarter of my flowers had been damaged.

I had nothing but my flowers left and so, in my black and yellow striped raincoat, I pulled on the tarps, secured them with ropes and prayed that the rain would lighten. As I sat in the rain, I wondered what actually compelled me to sign up for the bazaar in the park. I had a nice cosy shop with good traffic, I was earning a decent amount to spare myself a few trinkets over the weekend, so why did I sign up for this?

“Yeah grandma, why did you sign up for that stall? It was almost spring, but I’m sure it was as cold as it was right now.”

I chuckled at Marco who shivered slightly at the thought.

“Patience, I’m getting there.”

It wasn’t my doing that I ended up at the bazaar, it was all Lizzy’s fault. She signed my shop up without my knowledge. I cursed her under my breath as I paced the small space I had in my stall.

“So great-aunt Elizabeth was the one who brought you and grandpa together?” Marco asked with wide eyes, as though he had a revelation as to how our entire family was created. I laughed at his shock and shook my head.

“In a way, but she still left me to run the stall on my own when she stayed home with a pretend flu bug.”

It was three hours later when the rain finally lightened. I slowly released the taut rope that clung on for dear life as it supported the weight of the rainwater that had collected on the tarp. The water fell into the bushes, steadily it streamed down into the muddy ground and when it was emptied, I pulled up the tarps to open up my stall.

Springvale’s Spring Festival had always been plagued by rain or hail. As the tarps were pulled back, the soft stream of sunlight shone through the clouds and I decided that perhaps it was my lucky stars that were kind enough to give me liquid droplets instead of solid ice cubes. 

Molly’s Bouquet, the name of my shop written in bold black and yellow letters were on a banner that was hung up on the tarp, and my flowers were arranged in an inviting manner. All that I needed, was some customers. But on a cold rainy day like this, it would be a pleasant surprise to witness even a shadow that was not my own.

The seconds and minutes ticked by, with the occasional crowd that came and went. When a couple finally passed by, I pounced at my chance.

“Would you like to buy a flower for the beautiful miss?” I asked through clenched teeth, the smile on my face was frozen stiff after having missed the opportunity to sell a single stalk of rose for the past hour.

The man took one look at me and dragged his missus in the opposite direction, likely my smile chased him away. It was almost three in the afternoon and the sun that came out after the rain made the place warm and humid. I was like a bun that was steaming in the oven.

“Is this where grandpa arrives at your shop?” Marco interrupted as he locked my wheelchair and sat down on the bench.

I looked around the park, enjoying the sound of the children’s laughter and the chatter of the adults. It brought back many a memory.

“Yes, Marco. He arrived at my shop just as I was about to give up and push my flowers back to my shop.”

As I was feeling sorry for myself and had my head in my hands, a pair of brown worn-out boat shoes entered my line of sight.

I looked up and squinted slightly as the sun shone from behind him.

“I said, are these flowers still for sale?” He asked, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his voice.

“Yes, yes, no need to shout. They are for sale to any soul who wants them.” I snapped, standing up to my full height, only to realise that it was for nought as I had only reached his shoulders.

“Then I would like to take them please.” He smiled and I was blinded, not by the sun that shone from behind him, but from how charismatic he looked in that moment. His hair, an unruly mop that bounced as he spoke, seemed to have a life of its own.

“Take what?” I stammered, then blinking, I looked up at him again, “I mean, what flowers would you like to have today sir?” I asked, plastering on a smile that I hope wouldn’t send him running.

He looked at me, amusement in the form of a smile lifted the corners of his lips.

“I would like to take them all. Every single stalk of flower that you have with you. How much would you offer for the trolley? I would pay fifty for it.”

The trolley? It was a cheap thing that costs less than 25, but I wasn’t one to say no to extra money.

Without a word, I shook his hand and hauled every box of flower and bouquet that I had wrapped myself and he handed me a thick wad of cash before shaking my hand once again. With a smile, he thanked me for my time, and I thanked him for his business before he pushed the flowers away.

I stood in my empty stall, blinking for a few minutes as I regrouped myself.

What would a man do, with that many flowers?

Never one to leave mysteries unsolved, especially if they involved me. I hurriedly packed my items into my back and with my stripey raincoat tucked in my arms, I rushed after the mysterious man.

“This is where it gets kinda weird, doesn’t it?” Marco asked, the wind ruffling his hair as it did with Edward’s, and I smiled wistfully at the sight.

“Yes, it might be a little sad too, but at least from there on, my life was full of wonderful things.”

The mysterious flower man had longer legs than I had expected. Even after I had packed my things in record timing, I almost lost him at the entrance of the park when I caught a glimpse of my sunshine yellow trolley rounding the corner of the building. I ran after him as though my life depended on it, but what I didn’t keep in mind was the traffic light that changed as soon as he had reached the opposite side.

I watched as he walked on by, and I followed on the opposite street. Through twists and turns the sidewalks that filled Springvale, I stopped dead in my tracks as I watched him enter a building. The blood in my veins ran cold as I walked in the same direction as he did.

Standing at the entrance, I looked up with one hand over my eyes. “What is he doing here?” I whispered to myself.

A hospice.

The guilt in me nearly made me trip over my feet as I walked towards the receptionist, and there he stood chatting with the man who wore the hospice’s uniform. Upon noticing me, the nurse turned his attention to me.

“May I help you?” He asked, and my mysterious flower buyer turned and recognition filled his features.

“Oh, this is who I got my flowers from. No issue here, Thomas.” He smiled and graciously extended a hand to welcome me.

Upon hearing his words, Thomas looked at me and smiled. One filled with gratitude and relief. “So you’re the wonderful soul, thank you. Your flowers really helped to liven up the atmosphere around here. Everyone loved them, thank you.” He shook my hand and thanked me once more before excusing himself to the alarm that sounded.

“So, what brought you to the only hospice in town?” Long-legged flower buyer asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged, “I – uh, just wanted to take a walk.” I lied, rather poorly as he raised an eyebrow at my attempt and I groaned in defeat.

“Fine, I followed you alright. I was curious about what a man could do with that much flowers.”

At my admission, he smirked and I glared daggers at him from the corner of my eyes.

“Well, were my actions honourable enough for you?” He asked and I rolled my eyes, nodding while waving him away. When suddenly a thought struck me and I ran after him.

“Wait! You never told me your name, and you never really told me why you sent flowers to the hospice.” I stopped running as he turned around, as I caught my breath.

He looked at me, his head slightly tilted as he took in my profile. I felt as though I was being accessed as those baby blue eyes of his stared into my soul, until he revealed the reason.

“My fiancée died in that hospice three years ago. I’m just donating flowers in her name.” He shrugged.

“Oh…”

“Oh man, grandma, you really did say the wrong thing.” Marco grimaced.

“How was I to know.” I swatted his arm, “And think about it, he still hasn’t told me his name. He decided to tell me about his dead fiancée instead.” I huffed, crossing my arms. Marco laughed at my actions.

“Alright, alright. Was it love at first sight though?”

“Well…”

“Anyways, my name is Edward, Edward Laurent. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, dear…” He stretched out a hand, to which I shook while still in shock.

“Molly, my name’s Molly, just like the name of my flower shop.” I said lightly, after a beat I followed up with, “I’m sorry, for your loss.”

His eyes widened at my words, “What, no, it’s all over. I’m just doing it as part of healing.”

We stood on that pavement for god knows how long. Staring at each other as the cold wind blew once more and I shivered. His hand still holding onto mine was warm and for some reason, I just didn’t want to let go of the hand nor the man.

“Do you mind giving me your number?” He blurted out.

“Oh my god. Grandpa said that?” Marco exclaimed, his eyes wide and he laughed out loud to himself. Smirking at his reaction, I had to inform him yet again, his grandpa was a man of surprises.

“His reason for asking me for my number was so that he could get more flowers.”

Marco rolled his eyes, “No way did grandpa mean that. He probably wanted to ask you out.”

As I gave Edward my number, he bid me goodbye and I watched as he walked in the opposite direction until he disappeared into the crowd. When I finally couldn’t see even a shadow of his, I decided to take the long way back to my stall.

In the evening glow, I could hear the sound of the birds singing once again. The wind was cold, but from within, I felt a kind of warmth filling me up. It was truly in that moment, that I realised that it was finally spring.