April Showers

She burst through the door that day slightly out of breath on a gust of April wind and rain, and leaned back through to give her umbrella one last shake before fully entering the shop. Securing the soggy velcro fastener around the umbrella, she slipped the carrying loop over her wrist and pushed her damp hair out of her eyes with her other hand as she approached the counter where I stood.

She must have said something, but for a minute I didn’t register it. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were rosy from exertion; she was disheveled from the weather and somehow, utterly spellbinding. It wasn’t until she crooked an eyebrow and gave me a little wave that my brain kicked back in. 

“Shit, sorry!” I practically stuttered, and I could feel my own cheeks warm. “I just dazed off there for a second. What can I do for you?”

She grinned, and I almost lost myself again. “No worries! I was just asking if you could give me some plant advice.” 

“Oh sure, absolutely. What’s your question?”

She propped her elbows on the counter and leaned in conspiratorially. “To my utter shock and surprise, I have managed to keep an orchid alive and blooming for almost a year now. It’s making me dangerously confident in my plant mama skills, so I’m here to find another plant for my apartment. What do you suggest?”

I couldn’t help smiling back at her. “Hmm, well… it kind of depends. What kind of light do you get in your place, and what sort of plants do you like?”

She tilted her head, thinking. “My balcony faces… uh… okay let’s see, the sunset is on the left, so… north? Yeah. North. And I’ve got a couple windows that face east. It’s not the brightest place in the world but it’s no cave.” 

I forced myself to look away, and let my eyes drift around the sections of the store while I thought. “Okay, so maybe let’s take a look at the plants that are fine in low light and see what catches your eye.” I moved around the edge of the counter and felt more than saw her fall into step with me as I headed for the low light section. 

We spent maybe ten minutes looking at plants, her pointing to varieties she liked and me rattling off the care and keeping details. While she browsed, I searched for what it was about her that had knocked me off my axis so completely. She was cute; maybe not celebrity-pretty, but striking in her own way with ivory skin, dark hair, flashing green eyes, and a long grecian nose. Her expressions were honest and open; it was like she had no use for that filter we all seem to have between our feelings and showing them on our face. She surprised me into a laugh when she wrinkled her nose theatrically at the peace lilies and declared she’d never felt comfortable around a plant so suggestively shaped. 

She narrowed it down to two finalists and asked if either had any danger for pets; that eliminated one, and she triumphantly hoisted the other - the ZZ plant, Zamioculcasi - into her arms and headed back to the counter with me trailing in her wake. While I signed into the register, I tried to shake off my bewilderment and asked what kind of pet she had.

Her face brightened, and she dug into her jacket pocket and produced her phone, which had a picture of a sweet-looking dog on the lock screen. “This is Melon. She’s a terrier/beagle mix.”

I laughed. “Melon?”

“Yeah, long story, when I first adopted her she had this awful, tacky name, and so I was trying to think of something better to call her. And she reminded me of this character from a webcomic I read, because she’s just fully IN for anything I’m doing, and the character in the strip is kind of the same way, like more enthusiasm than common sense, right? And the character was named Melon, and it just fit.” She paused. “I guess it’s not such a long story after all.” She broke into another grin and handed me her credit card.

Right! There’s a transaction happening. I finished out the order and gave her back her card. “Are you okay to carry this thing? The weather is kind of bad right now.”

She tucked her card away and zipped up her jacket. “I’ll be fine! It’s just rain, and that’s only ever hurt the Wicked Witch of the West. Oh and the aliens in Signs, apparently.” She picked up the plant and tilted her head to see me around the foliage. “Besides, I love the rain. It’s my second favorite weather.”

“What’s your first favorite?”

“Thunderstorms.” She smiled again and turned toward the door. “Thanks for the help! I hope you have a good rest of the day!” And just as quickly as she arrived, she was gone, and with her it seemed, all the energy and color in the room. 

I was still just staring at the door when I heard a chuckle behind me, and turned to see my manager leaning against her office door, shaking her head with a smile. “You should have asked her out.”

“What?”

“Look at you; you’re gobsmacked! You can’t let someone like that slip away. You look how I felt the night I met my husband. Like the world changed and you don’t know how but you know it’s because of them.”

I looked back at the door she had disappeared through, and felt the truth of the sentiment. She was full of energy, life, and enthusiasm; I needed more. I cast my eye around the room again, and landed on a small bouquet of daisies that seemed right. Grabbing my jacket and the bouquet, I turned to my boss again. “Can you ring me up-”

“It’s on the house. Go! Before she gets too far away!”

I went.