You Bring Me Flowers

“Special delivery for you!”

The secretary handed Meghan a bouquet of red roses. The cellophane crinkled, sending shock-waves across the office. Heads popped up over cubicles, searching for the lucky girl. Meghan found herself surrounded by a flock of envious women.

“Thanks,” Meghan said, throwing the bouquet on her desk. The secretary gave her a disdainful look and walked away.

“At least someone’s boyfriend remembered Valentine’s Day,” Brenda said.

“Ugh, I hate being single,” Jane pouted from over the top of Meghan’s cubicle.

“These days I’m lucky if my husband remembers to put on deodorant, let alone give me something for Valentine’s day,” Janice added.

“It’s nothing,” Meghan said, sitting in her chair. “Just some flowers.”

“Oh sweetie,” Brenda said, placing her hands on the back of Meghan’s shoulders. Meghan winced, shrugging her shoulders, but Brenda dug her claws in deeper. “You don’t know how lucky you are. You should cherish it while it lasts,” she said.

Meghan forced a smile.

“Seriously. You have no idea how hard it is being single on Valentine’s day. Everyone keeps giving me pitying looks,” Jane said. “I’m going to this speed dating thing tonight, so lame. But I bet Steve has something amazing planned.”

“We’re going to that French place on 5^th-”

Jane gasped, “La Folie?! O-M-G, I’ve been dying to go there.”

“I could never go there,” Janice said. “My husband would have to wear a coat and tie, and it’s hard enough to get him to wear a shirt without a stain on it.”

“Mmhmm,” Meghan said, her eyes fixed on her computer screen.

Meghan was less than excited to be eating at La Folie. She wanted to try something adventurous, like that dark dining restaurant that had just opened in her neighbourhood. The place was pitch black so you couldn’t see what you were eating. It was supposed to enhance the dining experience, block out other senses so you had to focus on the flavours and tastes. She dropped a few hints to Steve, but he was oblivious.

She began typing, her hands flying across the keyboard. The women didn’t take the hint. They continued to gush about how romantic Meghan’s evening would be.

“Ya, it should be fun, can’t wait. I should get back to work. This report won’t finish itself!”

“I can’t believe we don’t get the day off for Valentine’s,” Jane said rolling her eyes and disappearing behind the cubicle wall.

“Enjoy your Valentine’s Meghan,” Brenda said, giving her one last squeeze on the shoulder. “Ah, to be young again,” she said to Janice, as they walked back to their desks.

Meghan had been dating Steve for eight months now. Things were nice. Steve was nice. He called to ask how her day was. He brought her soup when she was sick. Meghan’s mom adored Steve, unlike Antonio. Her mother had never stopped complaining about Antonio’s tattoos, motorcycle, or his job as a club promoter.

Meghan’s mind drifted to nights with no sleep, caresses on the beach under the stars. She remembered nights where the music was roaring, beating in time with her pulse, while his heart beat in time with hers. Antonio used to grab her the second she stepped through the door. Sometimes they didn’t even make it to the bedroom. The nights that ending in screaming tears were far from her mind. She forgot the times she had to drag him home when he drank too much. And she didn’t think of the wild jealousy and nights when he didn’t come home.

Meghan tried to focus on her work, but the flowers were looming out of the corner of her eye, a bright red beacon. Meghan glanced at the document she was typing, and smack dab in the middle of the report she had written “Antonio” a dozen times. She snatched the flowers up from her desk and marched to the break room.

What was she supposed to do with flowers? An office was no place for roses. They would wilt by five o’clock without water. She rummaged through the cupboards to find a suitable vessel.

“You okay hun?”

Meghan turned to see her friend Marissa standing in the break room door. Meghan got down from the chair she was standing on, a blush creeping over her face. Marissa took a sip of her coffee and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m trying to find a container to put flowers in,” Meghan said, gesturing to the roses.

Marissa smiled, “Ah, good for you Steve. Classy move sending flowers to the office.”

“Yeah, except I have no idea what to do with them, they’re just sitting at my desk, a huge distraction, taking up space,” Meghan fumed.

Marissa put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “They’re just flowers, Meghan. It’s nice.”

“Exactly, they’re just flowers.” Meghan sighed and flopped into one of the chairs. Marissa put down her coffee and opened the cupboard under the sink.

“I know I shouldn’t complain, and I should be grateful, but... I mean, I got him this fancy, leather-bound personalized notebook, with the grid pages. You know how he likes doing those bullet journals?”

“Sure,” Marissa said, her head disappeared under the sink.

“I just put in a lot of effort, and he gets me the most cliched gift ever.”

“Ha! I knew this was still around!” Marissa pulled out an oversized novelty drinking cup from one of the local sport’s teams. She filled it up at the sink, “Go on hun.”

“Last year Antonio made me a book of poetry for Valentine’s.” Meghan wouldn’t admit this to Marissa, but she had it tucked away under her mattress. Antonio collected dozens of poems he wrote her throughout their relationship. From poetry scrawled across cocktail napkins to the one he had written on her arm one Sunday morning while they were still in bed.

She first encountered Antonio at a local rock show. Their eyes met across the room and they danced together all night. She thought how his hand rested on her hip, thumb slipping under the hem of her shirt, his breath on her neck, the smell of his cologne. The only word he had said to her was his name, whispered in her ear. Thinking about it still sent a shiver down her spine.

She had met Steve through a dating app. Not much of a story there.

“Didn’t he also cheat on you?” Marissa said, putting the cup in her hands. Meghan began unwrapping the cellophane, grimacing and the loud noise it made.

“Yes, but things with Antonio were different. He had passion, romance.”

“Red roses aren’t romantic?”

“I know, I know, I’m being ungrateful.”

Marissa passed her a pair of scissors, “You should cut the ends off of those, they’ll soak up the water better.”

Meghan grabbed scissors from Marissa.

“How do you know so much about flowers?”

“Tanya gave me a bouquet of daffodils this morning. She does every Valentine’s. It’s tradition. Plus, they’re my favourite.” Marissa sat down, crossing her legs.

“That’s nice...” Meghan said, looking away. She reached out to touch one rose but pulled her hand back at the last second.

“It is nice. And so is Steve.” Marissa tapped her fingers on the table. “What did you tell Steve you wanted for Valentine’s day?”

“I told him I didn’t want a gift.”

“And would no gift have made you happy?”

“Of course not, it’s just that flowers-”

“Flowers are a good gift to get your girlfriend if you don’t know what she wants.”

Meghan sighed. “He didn’t tell me what he wanted. And I got a kick-ass gift.”

Marissa gave her friend a stern look. “You can’t expect him to read your mind. If you want something ask.”

“That’s not the only issue,” Meghan cried.

Marissa held up her hands in defence, “I’m not blaming you, hun. Look, all relationships have their difficulties. You’re just... freaking out a little. That’s all. Valentine’s is hard for everyone.”

“Except it’s supposed to be easy for me. I’m in a relationship with a nice guy who sent me flowers-”

“It’s okay,” Marissa said with a smile. “I get it. You can rant all about it at lunch.”

Meghan nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” Her eyes drifted to the flowers.

“For now, I have to get back to work.”

Meghan nodded, getting up from her seat, “Okay, ya, thanks.”

“Anytime, hey, aren’t you going to take the roses?”

Meghan stopped in the doorway, the side of her mouth curling into a frown.

“There’s no room on my desk. Let everyone enjoy them.”

Marissa shrugged and went back to her desk. Meghan lingered a moment longer, her eyes fixed on the flowers. The fluorescent lights and a plastic cup did no justice to the elegant roses. Meghan frowned and left the break room.

#####

It was 6 o’clock, the office was empty save for Meghan. She was just putting the finishing touches on her report. She packed up her bag, put her coat on, and turned the computer off when her phone buzzed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day! Did you get my flowers?”

Meghan crinkled her nose, remembering the roses in the break room. She poked her head in the door. A few leaves littered the table, and the plastic cup was near empty. Her coworkers had plundered her bouquet. There was only one rose left. The stem was bent at an angle and its petals were wilting. Meghan took the remaining rose from the cup. She dumped out the water, and rinsed out the cup, returning it to its place beneath the sink. She stared at the rose for a long time and finally threw it into the trash bin.

She took out her phone and replied to Steve.

“Yes, thanks."

“Hey... I was thinking, how about something different than La Folie tonight?”