Flowers for Mom

A young woman stood paused on a quiet sidewalk, eyes closed, listening to the birdsong and the breeze. Taking a deep breath, the powerful aroma of blooming flowers wrapped around her, soothing her heart. 

Opening her eyes, she continued walking down the street; staring ahead but her mind far away, in glimpses of a woman laughing, sitting in the sun, or stopping to smell the flowers. A couple blocks later, she found her destination: a quaint flower shop, sandwiched in between a laundromat and a tattoo parlor. Opening the door with a faint ring to announce her presence, she noted that the interior was rather more barren than it had been in the past, a lack of flowers bursting from every corner of the shop. What was left appeared not as well-kept as she would’ve liked, though behind the countertop sat a vase of beautiful deep red roses. 

“Be there in a moment!” called an unfamiliar voice. The faint sound of something falling to the floor could be heard, along with even fainter (but still audible) cursing.  

Must be a new employee, thought the woman, gazing around the shop one more time. Some pink carnations sat off to one side of the shop, a handful of yellow tulips a couple shelves down. Both flowers seemed healthy enough, though walking a little closer revealed some unsightly petal rot, and the leaves apparently had been munched on by some insect. 

A harried girl stepped abruptly out of the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked young, possibly in high school or just out of it, and carried not the most pleasant expression on her face. Her name tag, slightly crooked, read ‘Bianca’. She stepped behind the counter and took a deep breath, plastering an obviously fake smile on her face, before calling out. 

“Alright, what can I get for you today?”  

The young woman stepped back up to the counter to address the new employee. 

“Are those roses behind you for sale? I’m looking to get some flowers, though you probably figured that much, with me being here and all”, she trailed off with an awkward laugh, cowering slightly under the unimpressed stare of the girl, smile turned into more of a grimace. 

“No, those are sold already, just waiting for pickup. “ 

“What about the pink carnations over there, or those tulips?” 

“Ah, let me check the book but I think… nope, those are sold too, just haven’t gotten pulled off the shelves yet. Someone called in an order.” 

With a huff, the woman cast another look around the shop. “Is there anything here that is available? I need something today.” 

“Hey, it’s your own fault you left it for the last minute. We had a couple weddings, some other party or something, plus a half dozen people called just this morning. Business is booming, which is why my aunt asked me to work some shifts here.” Bianca paused, seemingly remembering the question after a moment. “Those peonies are for sale, half off since they’re not in the best shape. And we’ve got some greenery left, if you want to make it a fancier bouquet. I think that’s the best I can do for you today.” 

The peonies in question were… quite sad. Starting to wilt, missing a few petals, and those left were in the beginnings of turning brown. Not yet to the stage where they were unsellable, but close to it. With a sigh, the woman nodded her head. 

“I’ll take them.” 

The employee busied herself by gathering the flowers, adding some green leaves to make the bouquet not quite so tired, then wrapping it all up. She laid the flowers down on the counter and typed at the register, before grabbing a receipt book. 

“Alright, peonies sold to… what’s your name?” 

“Amelie Garden.” 

“Garden, huh?” She snorted. “And you’ve got to come to a flower shop? Nothing at home?” Amelie pursed her lips, but said nothing.  

Bianca finished ringing Amelie up in an uncomfortable silence, handing her the receipt, along with the bouquet. She opened her mouth to say something, before snapping it shut just as quick, simply giving her a tight smile and a nod towards the door. Amelie turned and walked out of the shop, breathing in the fresh air outside, her shoulders relaxing minutely as she moved away from that uncomfortable exchange. 

I don’t know if I’ll go back there. Shame, I like Aunt Anna, and that handsome young man who usually works in the back room. Amelie walked to the nearest bus stop, distractedly taking a seat as her thoughts turned to her next destination. She stared down at the flowers in her hands, quietly sighing to herself, and settled in to wait. 

~ 

After some time had passed, a bus pulled into the stop. Amelie stood, checking quickly that it was the right one, before stepping on and paying her fare. She walked to the back and took a seat next to a window, eyes fluttering as she leaned her head onto her hand. Tired suddenly, from the day’s exploits, she watched the scenery go by through slitted eyes, trying desperately not to fall asleep and therefore miss her stop.  

Half an hour later, she roused from her doze and stepped back off the bus, another 10 minutes or so of walking ahead of her. She was now at the edge of a residential area, walking past rows and rows of houses, identical but for the occasional yard ornament or hanging sign. 

She paused as she walked by a small park, the cries of children on a small play structure echoing nearby. Her attention was caught by the trees, however, beautiful cherry blossom trees just recently gone into full bloom. Their branches swayed gently in the breeze, sunlight illuminating the pastel pink flowers, and suddenly Amelie felt a surge of… some kind of emotion run through her. Sadness? Hope? She could not discern what she felt, just that the beauty in this moment caused something to well up inside her, spilling out through salty droplets cascading down her face. Sniffling, she brushed the tears away, and abruptly stepped away and turned back towards her destination. 

“Look out!” 

Startled, she turned to see someone on a bike, riding too fast down the sidewalk and headed straight for her. She stumbled as she tried to move out of the way, dropping the flowers as she fell onto the pavement behind her. The biker swerved and just missed hitting her, though the flowers were not so lucky. As they got farther away, Amelie could only stare in dismay at the bouquet now littering the sidewalk, leaves torn to shreds, and the petals, just barely hanging on already, fallen apart and squished into the ground. She hardly even felt the sting in her hands from where she caught herself, as new tears dripped down her cheeks. 

She sat there on the sidewalk for a few long moments, taking deep breaths and gradually calming down. The flowers were ruined, although she could try picking some wildflowers, she supposed. She wiped her hands off, noticing for the first time the small rivulets of blood coming from the scrapes on her hands. Dabbing them off on her clothing, she carefully pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, trying not to stain it with blood. She unfolded it to reveal a well-worn letter, obviously something she had read and reread countless times. Eyes scanning the page, she let out another breath to pull herself together.  

March 25th, 2005 

To my beautiful baby girl,  

I hope when you read this letter, you are happy and content, and not missing your dear old mother too terribly. I’ve asked that you be given this on your 18th birthday, so Happy Birthday my darling Amelie. I wish I had a better present for you, but circumstances are not in our favor. Not long from now, as I write this letter, I will pass on, leaving behind my most precious being in the world, and nothing could sadden me more. But we may still see each other again someday, if the fates are willing.  

The flowers are beautiful this time of year, aren’t they? If you ever miss me too much, bring some to my grave, and know that I am there watching over you. 

I love you with all my heart, 

Mama 

Pocketing the letter again, Amelie stood up shakily, casting one last glance at the destroyed flowers on the sidewalk. She turned slowly and walked a bit farther down the street. Finding herself stepping into the shade, she looked up and realized she was standing under one of the cherry blossom trees, its branches reaching overhead. Sunlight dappled her upturned face through an opening in the flowers, and she caught sight of a squirrel hiding high in the tree. 

Suddenly, a CRACK resounded from the tree, and a small branch, full of light pink flowers, came tumbling down to land at her feet. Inhaling softly, Amelie reached down for the fallen bough and lifted it to gaze upon the tree’s gift. She smiled, whispering a quiet “thank you” to the tree, before continuing her steps to her destination. 

~ 

Finally, Amelie found herself at a small graveyard, tombstones of all shapes and sizes littering the ground. She walked softly across the grass to a mid-sized, well-cared for headstone. Lily Garden, 1979-2005, Loving Daughter, Wife, and Mother, it read. 

Amelie sat on the ground in front of it, holding the branch of flowers in her lap. The top of the stone just barely reached over her head, seated as she was.  

“Hi mom. It’s been a little while, huh? I just turned 20, the celebrations were nice, but…” she paused, wiping at her eyes. “I missed you there. I wish every day you didn’t have to leave us so soon; I feel like I can barely even remember you now. Good thing we have pictures, or I might forget what you looked like.” 

She hesitated, before picking up the branch. “I hope you like cherry blossoms, mom. Honestly, these are the prettiest flowers I’ve seen today, so I think it’s a pretty good gift. Happy birthday.” 

She laid the flowers on the grave, sitting for a moment before closing her eyes as she felt the wind brush across her face, like the caress of a mother’s hand. She breathed in the scent of the flowers, of the dirt and grass, and listened to the birds and the insects. But then she heard another sound, a whisper carried to her on the breeze, and opened her eyes only to fall backwards in shock. For there in front of her, the petals of the cherry blossoms were swirling up unnaturally, wreathing themselves upon the headstone and glimmering with an unexplainable light. 

As the final petal drifted into place, fully outlining the stone, a bright light flashed, forcing Amelie to flinch back, closing her eyes and shielding her face. After a moment, she cautiously blinked her eyes back open. 

Where the headstone had been, now existed… a door. Blackened wood, with a glinting silver doorknob. With a creak, it swung open from the inside, revealing a man sitting on the other side, peering through in much the same way Amelie was. He looked her up and down, a thoughtful expression on his face, before nodding to himself as he came to some kind of a decision.  

“Well? Are you coming or not? Your mother is waiting, you know.”