The Bouquet

He walked into the store in wide excited steps. The time could not move quick enough towards the night with the afternoon sun still raging overhead. As the door closed behind him, he had eclipsed the light forming a shadow over the girl behind the counter.
Walking past the large trees and containers full of flowers, he felt as if he should be whistling or something. After all isn’t that what one does in these types of situations? But he didn’t know how to whistle and instead, continued meandering through the tight aisles, touching and feeling each length of stem.
“Hi, can I help you with anything?” The girl asked.
“Um…” He took a passing glance at the flowers before finally settling his eyes upon her. Realizing he knew not where to begin, he said, “Yeah, I’m looking for some flowers.” He could not stop looking at the full breadth of flowers around him and realizing how moronic he sounded, he continued: “Obviously. But I don’t know much about… flowers. I’m looking for a bouquet, I guess.”
She nodded with a smile, more amused than annoyed at his muddled thought process. “Well you’re at the right place,” she began. Turning to her side, she repaired the arrangements broken by his nervous hands. “What’s the occasion?”
“Um… the world finally making sense?”
“Uh-huh, now is this for a man or a woman?”
“A woman, a girl.” His gaze followed her hands repositioning each stem. “Not like a little girl but a girl like my age… a date. A first date in fact.”
“Oh how nice,” she said dispassionately. “Well roses are always good.” She led him to the back towards the refrigerated case.
“You know, I was thinking of that.” And he had, he remembered some long lost English Lit class in high school about the symbolism of colours. “We were friends first, friends for a long time in fact. So I was thinking yellow, yellow roses with maybe some red sprinkled in. Or maybe the other way around.” He ran his hand along his hair slowly, wondering just why he suddenly felt so muddled.
“An arrangement does show more thought.”
The image of crimson red with luminescent yellow appeared before him and he immediately shook it out of his mind.
“You know, yellow and red really don’t mix. Nix that.” He said.
“Ok, well perhaps pink or lavender? There’s a less sharp contrast in those colours.”
“Yes!” He leaned in over her as she reached in and began gathering the roses. “But wait, what does pink mean again?”
She stopped and with eyes askew as if glancing into her own head, she replied, “Um, grace? Elegance and appreciation.”
“Yes, yes!” He felt his old sense of joy returning with a wide smile on his face. Tonight was finally the night, he thought. “And lavender means beauty?”
“Or perfection.”
“Yeah, let’s add some lavender!”
“She must be quite the girl.” She said with a playful lift of her brow.
“Oh you have no idea.” As she leaned in and continued her gathering of roses. He began thinking of the date which could not come soon enough and of her, of all they had been through and all that laid in wait before them. The nervous first moments around arrival, trying not to look at each other, trying to see themselves in this new light. And then he would bring the flowers out from behind him and she’d smile, the original awkwardness burning away at the pure light of her smile. It’d be perfect, just perfect. It needs to be perfect, he thought.
“You know, I’m not sure red and lavender will mix that well. Same issues as the yellow.” He said. Digging deep into the casing, the girl stopped and sighed. It was the slightest little sigh, had he not been watching her he would not have noticed. A tiny inaudible exhalation and a release of her shoulders. “Red’s a little cliché. Yeah, just pink and lavender.”
She came out of the refrigerator and asked, “are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said as she continued staring at him. “Final answer,” he said with movement of his hands for emphasis.
“Great.” She said, returning a smile before digging back into the casing.

After paying, Tyler could feel his smile and his anticipation growing ever wider.
“Well goodbye and good luck,” she said.
He held the flowers before him. “With these, I don’t think I’ll need it.” And with that, he turned and left.
He walked back out into the street unable to turn his eyes away from the gorgeous hues of the bouquet in his hands. Pink and lavender. Grace, elegance, appreciation, beauty, and perfection. And he thought of his date tonight again with those words in mind, but suddenly found his smile beginning to seep away. And it was then he saw his date- the girl, in a new light.
Stopping, he fished his cell-phone out of his pocket and dialled her number.
“Hello?” She said.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Oh hey! I’m just getting ready. I’m-” She stopped herself and began again in a new assured voice, “I’m kind of excited about tonight actually.”
“Well yeah about that…” He looked out into the sky and found the sun setting. The pure white and yellow blurring into orange and red. He took one last look at his flowers. “Yeah, I’m not feeling it tonight.”
“Oh really? Because I’m kind of really looking forward to it.”
“Yeah,” he said unable to look away. “I was too.”
“Well, do you want me to call you tomorrow?”
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“Um, ok?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you around sometime. Bye.” He hung up before she could reply. He let out a loud sigh and shifted his direction back home, passing a garbage can he tossed the flowers into the bin.

THE END