October 15, 2016

The colors of fall descended on Tigard, giving way to the liquid sunshine Oregonians came to expect from the Pacific Northwest. Keys jingled in Flora’s hand before sliding into the lock on the side door of the flower shop. The door unlatched, she entered, blinking the sleep away as she disabled the alarm. Kiran was half a pace behind her, flicking the lights on once they knew the police wouldn’t come because they set the alarm off by accident. That happened twice during their first three months in business. Now it only happened when they either pulled an all nighter or stayed up too late drinking.

Flora yawned as she tossed her purse on the desk in the office and hung her coat on the back of her chair. Her hair, soaked by rain became nearly charcoal, but she’d dry off soon enough.

“Stop yawning,” Kiran said before yawning himself. “It’s contagious!”

“I know, but I can’t help it. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“We were up a bit later than normal, I suppose.”

“We’ll go to bed on time tonight.” Flora straightened her back to become as tall as her small stature allowed, holding two fingers together in the air next to her. “Scouts’ honor.”

“Good.”

Kiran dragged the sandwich board out to the sidewalk on Main Street as he always did. It was just shy of nine in the morning. Most of the other shops wouldn’t open until at least ten, so they liked to let the masses know Flora’s Flowers was open for another day. Flora scurried around tending to the flowers. She would take inventory, dust, straighten the cards and ribbons, check for orders, and prepare the daily deliveries. It wasn’t the busiest place, but they had enough business to keep the shop open, their home paid for, and even put food on the table. They wouldn’t get rich from the business, but they were happy.

An hour later, the bell above the door chimed, sleepy footsteps shuffling across the wooden floor.

“Good morning, Josey,” Flora said without looking up. Their only employees were right on time.

Josey was a quiet girl in her early twenties who came to them looking for a part-time job to save for college. She seemed to only wear nice slacks with sweaters. With the glasses she wore, she looked like a librarian which suited her. The dark brown mass of hair concealed much of her face. Josey was a business major. During a time when Kiran talked more about pursuing teaching she was the answer to their prayers.

“Mornin’,” Josey mumbled on her way to the office.

“Morning, Flora,” Michael’s deeper voice called into the shop as the door closed. Michael also wanted to pursue his education in business. His parents were covering his tuition, but books and supplies were his responsibility. Josey was quiet, suffering through the interactions with customers. Michael thrived on it. His appearance, while casual for the floral shop, brought people in. It looked like he rolled out of bed and threw on the first jeans and T-shirt he spotted.

“Good morning, Michael,” Flora said once again not looking up from her work. She focused on the arrangement in front of her, purchased by her favorite customer; it had to be perfect.

Flora wasn’t feeling well. She could blame lack of sleep, but it was something different. It was a feeling that something changed, but she couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m gonna grab a smoke,” Kiran said as he planted a kiss on Flora’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

Kiran lingered in silence for a moment, studying her. “O-okay, love.” He stepped out the back door.

In high school, after Kiran’s father passed away from lung cancer, Kiran started smoking. At first, it was how he coped with feeling betrayed. If his father could smoke himself to death, no one had any right to chide him for it. Flora picked the habit up then, too. The few times Flora had quit Kiran would quit, too. But every year on the anniversary of his father’s death, Kiran would pick the habit up all over again. At the moment, Kiran was indulging; Flora was abstaining. It was only a matter of time before she picked the habit up again.

Flora sighed from the lack of progress on the arrangement in front of her. It was something she made a dozen times before, but it didn’t look right. It was missing something. She hated that feeling.

Is it really missing something?

Flora put the flowers back into the cooler before returning to the front. Customer traffic was picking up even if only slight. Her soft green eyes observed a man in his mid-thirties with golden brown hair. It was almost to his shoulders, parted to the left, and neat. He looked content wandering around with the woman standing to his left. He wore black dress pants and a white button shirt with a vest that tapered to his waist. Unlike Flora, he was tall. Maybe even taller than Kiran.

Flora knew of the nagging feeling in the back of her mind she knew him. Not as an acquaintance or friend-of-a-friend. She knew him even if she didn’t know from where. But as soon as the thought formed it left.

The woman standing next to him was much shorter than her companion. Flora couldn’t be sure, but the woman could have been shorter than her own five-foot-three frame. Her braided sandy blond hair over the right shoulder reminded Flora of the shores of Cape Lookout where she married Kiran. Unlike the well-dressed man beaming at her, the woman wore a pair of neat denim jeans, brown boots, and a raincoat.

“They’re so lovely, it’s hard to choose,” the woman said.

“That just means we must come buy more once these die. It’s not like we’ll never buy flowers again,” the man replied.

“I suppose. But I just don’t know. You know I don’t like buying things for myself.”

“I’m buying them.” From where Flora was standing, she saw the wonderfully broad smile radiate from his lips to his eyes. He didn’t squint like Kiran did.

Flora shook her head focusing her attention to restocking the cards to tune the couple out

“Excuse me, Miss?” The woman’s angelic voice interrupted her thoughts. “How often do the arrangements change?”

Flora turned to them with a smile. Michael left; he must have been on a break. “It depends on what my supplier has, but I usually change things around after a month or so. If there’s something you like you can place an order, so I get the flowers in.”

The man smiled at her. For a moment, when their eyes met, Flora felt that rush of familiarity again. Where do I know you from?

“Oh! That’d be great! This is the one I want to order,” she gestured to a new arrangement Flora created right after her spontaneous wedding. The original died, but it was so popular this design became a permanent addition.

Flora scribbled the order down. “When do you want to pick it up?”

“Two weeks from today, please,” the man said before his companion could open her mouth.

“Perfect. Your name?”

“Damian Eveson. Susan might pick it up though.” Flora scribbled a note at the bottom. “And you are…?”

Flora’s smile was subtle, verging on undetectable. “Flora,” she said meeting Damian’s gaze once again. “I’ll have that ready for you in just a couple weeks then.” The order went into a bin on the wall.

“Thanks so much, Flora,” Susan offered to shake Flora’s hand who didn’t hesitate to do so. Damian shook hands with her next, also giving his thanks.

Damian whispered something in Susan’s ear before she left the shop. His attention turned back to Flora. “This might be strange, but…do I know you from somewhere? You seem awfully familiar.”

“I don’t believe so, unless you grew up in Tillamook or attended Portland Community College more than a decade ago.”

“I’m afraid not.” Damian looked disappointed. “Oh well. Just one of those faces, I guess…Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day.” The response was so practiced and automatic with little emotion at all. Damian slipped out the door.

Flora puttered around.

“All right. Gotta start on those deliveries,” Kiran said after his smoke break.

“I’ll get the keys,” Flora said. She paused at the door to the office.

Josey was leaning against the desk. Michael was in front of her with his hands resting on her hips. Their lips pressed together and pulled apart, oblivious to their surroundings.

“You do realize there’s people working and cameras in the shop, right?” Michael and Josey stood straight, spines now made of steel. Josey couldn’t look Flora in the eyes. Michael tried but lost his nerve as his cheeks became a subtle shade of red. They both looked like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar; they were. “If you’ll hand me those keys, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sorry, Flora,” Michael muttered.

“Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with work.” Flora gave a reassuring smile turning on her heel to Kiran. The sound of clicking on the keyboard resumed. A moment later, Michael came back to the sales floor, dusting everything top to bottom to keep himself busy.

“Poor kid.” Flora muttered with a chuckle. She watched Kiran move each order into the van. “I might go home early. Is that okay?”

“Not feeling well?” Kiran loaded the last of their orders.

“I think I’m just coming down with a cold.”

“Mm. Then, go home and rest. The shop isn’t going under overnight.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Kiran drove Flora home. He always worried when she got sick because of its rarity. The deliveries could wait a little longer, he said. Flora didn’t know what to talk about. Her mind wandered between nausea and what it could mean. She never got nauseous from colds. And she didn’t have the flu once in the last seventeen years. It could start now, she supposed, but she doubted it. What could it be from? There was an option she wasn’t ready to entertain yet.

They sat in the car in their driveway. Kiran wanted to say something because otherwise he would settle her in bed right now. But he hadn’t even reached for the door handle, and when Flora reached for hers he locked the doors.

“Flora…can I ask something without you freaking out?” Kiran stared at their house. “Do you think you might be pregnant?”

The words carried a weight that shouldn’t have been there. It should be a light-hearted question with the hopeful anticipation of the start of another wonderful chapter in their lives. Here, in this context, it was heavy, laden with sorrow. It was a question she wanted to answer with elation. But that would never happen again.

A bitter taste filled Flora’s mouth. “I could be.” She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat.

“Wouldn’t be surprising, I guess. I don’t think we’ve kept our hands off each other for a full day since we got married.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a test to know for sure.”

Kiran nodded, staring out the window. “I’ll pick one up on the way home. Sprite and soup, too, just in case.”

Flora got out of the car. Burrowing deep into their bed shielded her from the possibilities the world was laying before her.

It was seven A.M. when Flora awoke. The pregnancy test was waiting for her on the counter in the bathroom, but she refused to take it. She couldn’t handle it right now. Church was more important. It didn’t matter if Flora was ill with the plague or broke her bones; she would go to church then worry about the future.

Kiran was silent as the grave all morning; his usual coping mechanism for dealing with this stress. He gave the silent treatment to the world for almost two months right after his father died.

When they arrived at the chapel, they shook hands with friends and church leaders, chit-chatting until they took their usual seats at the end of the pew in the congregation’s middle. The organist was playing a hymn as everyone gathered into their seats.

Flora rested her head on Kiran’s shoulder. Murmurs swirled in the background like white noise. Despite fourteen hours of sleep, Flora felt exhausted. Just a little rest…

“Flora,” Kiran whispered.

Too tired.

“Love!” The hiss near her ear made Flora jump rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“What?” She snapped.

Kiran gestured to the blurred faces staring back at her.

“There she is,” Susan said. “Fancy seeing you here, Flora.”

The sandy blond customer came into focus. “Susan? I didn’t know you were part of this congregation.”

“We haven’t been able to make it lately,” Damian said.

“But we’ll keep coming from now on.”

“Oh! Sorry, this is my husband, Kiran. Kiran, this is Susan and Damian. We’re doing an order for them in a couple weeks.”

Kiran chuckled. “We met while you were napping.” Kiran fell silent again as the Pastor started his sermon.

“We need to spend time together,” Susan said during a lull. “We should get lunch this week!”

“I agree! I’ll let you know when I’m free.” Flora felt like a high school freshman again as they exchanged phone numbers.

When the sermon finished the congregation emptied. Susan pulled Flora into a parting embrace, but Damian only shook her hand. The slight pressure Susan’s hug put on her stomach made her nearly toss her cookies all over her new friend.

“When we get home will you take the test?” Kiran asked in the privacy of their Camry.

“I should take it in the morning.”

“If you really are pregnant, it won’t matter. Please?”

“Fine,” Flora snapped. “As soon as we get home, I’ll do it. But it’ll be negative.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about then, right?”

“Right.”