Bouquet
Anthony Smith
During break time, I always buy lunch and eat it on this bridge. It’s right by the restaurant I work part time at, right by the river that goes through the city. It’s a fairly recent structure, only a few years old. It’s metallic frame not showing any obvious signs of strain or rust, standing strong and supporting the weight of all the people that walk across it every day.
I was leaning against the handrail, my elbows supporting my weight as I bit into a sandwich I’d just bought from a small store on the other side of the river. “Lunch time Mark?” I looked over my shoulder towards the restaurant end of the bridge. Bryan was something of a friend, of course, he was every person’s ‘buddy’ or ‘pal’ when it suited him. Bryan took out a cigarette and lit it, still holding my attention with his eyes as he did so.
“Yeah mate,” my face twitched a little at the smell of the smoke carried towards me by the wind. Bryan was a very nice person. Agreeable personality, treated everyone fairly and equally, and yet, there was something I didn’t like about him. It was as though he lived a very carefully crafted facade, one he maintained by working at his social connections, this conversation being one such instance.
Bryan turned towards the river and gazed out, placing a hand on the rail. “So what’s the plan today?” he asked, still looking away. He of course was referring to Valentine’s day which happened to be today. Truthfully, I hadn’t really thought that far, Elly was never one for celebrating commercial holidays to any great length barring Christmas.
“Not sure mate,” I smiled, turning around to lean back on the railing. Getting up earlier than Elly in the morning to get to work at half-past five was a pretty good excuse to skip the whole ‘Breakfast in bed’ shtick. “I guess I’ll go buy the girlfriend some flowers after I knock off,” with that a smile began to play across Bryan’s lips, the smile of a gambler who’s just played his cards right.
“You should just get her some flowers mate,” Bryan took the cigarette away from his mouth. “All chicks go weak for that kind of thing, it’s a safe bet”. He was probably right, I was probably going to get flowers since I was usually pretty hopeless with this kind of thing.
“Yeah, I probably will,” I took another bite out of my sandwich, eyeing him and that gambler’s smile again.
“Mate,” he turned to face me, the smirk ever present. “You do realize that they’ll all be gone by now don’t you?” with that he started laughing to himself. I didn’t think about it. There was only really one place I could get flowers from, a florist on the main road. By the time I got off work, there was going to be no way any of their stock would be left.
“Ah ****,” I laughed a little myself. I’d have to think about buying her something else.
“Hey no worries, I’ve got a proposition for ya,” he took the cigarette and stamped it out on the ground. He moved a little closer to me, bringing that offending odour of cigarette smoke with him. “I know you’re thinking that florist probably hasn’t got any left,” he looked around him, as though somebody would hear something he didn’t want them to. “I asked her, the shop keeper, to keep aside three bouquets, one for the missus, and two for a couple of the girls here,” he explained, proud of himself. “I can’t pick them up til after work, but since you finish before me, I’ll let you have one of them if you pick them up for me,” he smiled, waiting for a response.
I only really had one question, “Wait, why is it that you can’t pick it up yourself?” he took a step back as I asked this, rolling his eyes.
“Melinda and I are actually going to go catch an early movie tonight, I literally don’t have time to spare to head up the main road by foot since I walk to work and I don’t want to go back home and announce that I quickly need to duck out somewhere when we’re meant to be heading out right away,” he considered pulling out another cigarette, but put the packet back into his pocket.
“You’ll do it for me won’t you mate?” he asked sincerely. So that was it, he needed someone to bail him out and I was the man for it.
“Sure Bryan, sounds alright to me,” I gave in, though, it was a favour that I saw mutual gain from, so I didn’t mind too much. I actually would’ve been very happy if it were somebody else. Bryan being the kind of person he is, was your best mate as long as you did things his way I supposed. That’s why I didn’t try to resist the idea of helping him out with the bouquets.
“Great mate,” he slapped me on the shoulder, “Great, well I’ve gotta run back, um, how about I meet you out here on the bridge after I get off work?” He was backing away as he asked, I nodded, voicing some form of agreement, and he clapped his hands together, turning around to jog back feeling very pleased about himself I was sure.
When I headed back in myself, the restaurant was packed with couples eating lunch together. It made me happy, seeing all those people. It reminded me that be it thanks to Bryan or anyone else, if he had a gift to bring back to his loved one today, it was all that really mattered.
The end of my shift rolled around, and I gave everyone a wave on my way out. I had about an hour before Bryan finished up for the day, so I didn’t have much time to get into the middle of the city. I walked into the florist shop and was pretty taken with the sight, that is, the lack thereof. The walls and shelving were barren, like the aftermath of a war. The remnants of packaging and loose petals scattered all about what could be mistaken for an unleased store.
The eyes of the shop keeper, a young woman wearing glasses and an apron met mine as she swept the floor with a broom. “We’re all sold out I’m afraid,” she put on a sympathetic smile, as though she knew that people would be coming in looking for flowers, hoping that something was left. Her voice was tired, looking about the store it didn’t take more than a guess why.
“I’m uh, here to pick up Bryan Edgewick’s order” I replied, scratching the back of my head. She straightened her back at the name, and a gave me a dirty look.
“What? Did he send you for them or something?” she placed one hand in her apron pocket, and held the broom with the other. The room suddenly seemed to lose all of its air. Standing in that small, barren shop with her seemed to steal oxygen from me. Something was amiss here and despite only being the delivery man, she was going to let me have it in Bryan’s stead, whatever I did.
“I guess he really took it to heart when I told him not to show his face around here anymore,” she took out her hand, a cigarette between her index and middle finger. She put it to her mouth and went back for a lighter that she expertly flicked open and lit with just the one hand.
I couldn’t help cocking an eyebrow which she picked up straight away. “What? Do you think it’s weird that a florist smokes?” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
“No, no I suppose not,” I replied, after attempting to give the question some thought.
“I know right? Some people like to give plants, collect and look at em’, others like to burn em’, smoke em’ and throw away what’s left,” she burst into her explanation, as though it’s one she’d been wanting to use that one for quite some time. A lot of people were probably a lot more upfront with their questions of how she could be a florist, but still smoke.
“I’m a bit of both I guess,” she walked over to the counter and leaned back. “That ******* Bryan sent you huh? What story did he give you?” this time it was her turn to raise an eyebrow while I rummaged through my brain for the explanation he gave me.
“Say’s he doesn’t want to run late for his girl friend tonight,” with that she laughed, she had to hold onto the cigarette to stop it from falling out of her mouth onto the ground.
“Typical man,” she finally said after getting over the joke only she seemed to understand. “******* had already paid for em’ too,” she turned to walk out to the back of the store, extinguishing her cigarette in an ashtray on her way out. Moments later she was back with three very expensive looking bouquets. Each containing similar arrangements of differently coloured flowers, more flowers than I knew the names of, and more than I’m sure the shop keeper could care to tell me about.
If she wasn’t going to tell me anything about the bouquet’s, she probably wasn’t going to tell me what inspired the grudge she had against Bryan. It wasn’t my place to say anything anyway, so I simply held out my arms as she handed them to me with little care, though somehow I managed to get my arms around all three before dropping anything.
When she stepped back, I tried to make some peace with her, at least on my own behalf, “I don’t know what’s up, but, I hope you have a happy Valentine’s day,” she closed her eyes as I said that, running one hand through her shoulder-length, brunette hair, then looking at me with just one eye open for a moment.
She let her hair down again and gave me a very faint smile. “You too mate, you too,” she exahaled, taking the broom she had back into hand and started sweeping again. She cast her gaze back down at the ground, and the way she looked made me feel sorry for her. Whatever had happened between this woman and Bryan must have had some effect on her, compounding the sense that she probably didn’t have anyone waiting for her to finish up work for the day.
I quietly left the store and made my way back to the bridge feeling less than impressed with myself at that point. It’s far too hard to ignore the kid in the sweatshop who made your pair of new Nike shoes when you’re colleagues. We were probably just going to have a quiet night together, no more recognition of today than a Valentine’s day toast at the dinner table and maybe something more if I was relatively lucky. At the end of it all, at least everything I’d done that day was for her, which made it worth walking through main street holding three bouquets in my arms and getting odd looks from people.
I was early by about 5 minutes and holding those three bouquet’s was getting tiresome, so I decided to lean on the handrail like I usually do. Of course when I lean on the handrail I’m not usually holding a bouquet, let alone three, so I leaned a little too far forward than I should have and before I knew it, the flowers all started falling out at once, their weight at the top of each bunch sliding out of the plastic that held them. It took a moment to realize what was happening and I quickly tried to reach forward to scoop the flowers back into the plastic before they fell out completely.
“****!” it had the opposite effect, one bouquet fell out completely and only one or two remained in the other. I felt my stomach drop to somewhere between my feet, I’d just lost all but one of the bouquets.
I had to think of something relatively fast, a guy like Bryan is a nice kind of person until you got on his bad side, though, at that point I could care less. Who other people know as ‘Bryan’ isn’t the same one that I and the florist could see at all. Just when I was getting all wound up thinking about what I’d do, I received a tap on the shoulder.
“He---y,” I turned around and was met with a beaming smile, frizzy hair trapped under a sun hat and a breathable, blue dress that fluttered slightly at the hem.
“Elly, what are you doing here?” I was surprised to see her here since I figured that she would just wait at home for me.
“I guess I wanted to meet you half way so we could walk together, though,” she eyed the flowers, “It looks like you’ve been up to something?”
I started stammering something, a firm grip around the last bouquet and as though it had to be any harder my name gets called out through the air. “Ma---rk!” it was Bryan, jogging up to where Elly and I stood. He ran his fingers like a comb through his hair and smelled as though he’d just bathed in deodorant. When he got close, a puzzled looked drew upon his face, “Mark, where’s the other ones?” he gave a quick smile to Elly, then focussed on me again.
He looked as though he was going to give me the benefit of the doubt and yet ready to make me explain myself in a stand-over kind of way. There they both were, both of them expected a bouquet, in fact, Bryan expected three of them. I could feel my stomach pulling me down as I looked from one to the other, more stutters escaped my mouth, every second I looked at Bryan’s smile made me sink lower.
“I uh, I dropped two of them,” I told the truth, looking down at the last bouquet, “I dropped them into the water because I was leaning too far forward”. I looked up, Bryan had swaggered backwards and rolled his eyes.
“Are you bloody serious mate?” he smacked himself in the head, his tone getting faster and more aggressive, “Those are bloody forty dollars each,” he stretched his arms out when he said that. Elly didn’t really grasp the situation, but took a spot behind me.
I walked up to Bryan and handed him the last bouquet, “Here,” I pulled out my wallet and shelled out Eighty dollars, “Consider your night paid for Bryan,” he eyed the cash I held out and decided to take it. He let a drawn out sigh escape, then shoved the flowers back in my direction.
“Look Mark,” he glanced at Elly, then to me again, “Just take the bouquet, you did bring the flowers for me anyway”. Even then, even when I’d gone and dropped two of the bouquets, he was trying to re-align my perception of him, trying to be the good guy in all of this.
“Nah mate, you take it,” I waved a hand, which only seemed to get an angry look from him.
“Fine,” he withdrew the bouquet, “Okay, well I’ve got a date to pick up,” he started to make tracks across the bridge, “See you”. We both watched quietly as he walked further and further away. It wasn’t until he was well and truly out of earshot that Elly began to ask about what just happened.
There wasn’t much to it really, any piece of jewellery I could have bought her would have been less expensive than accepting those flowers back.
---
Notes:
- I'm worried about the word count, it's 2,666 words, and I really need to shave about 400 off.
- The execution of the ending could be better. I think I need to re-evaluate it.
- I think I need to define Mark more. He seems only to be defined by other people in this story.
Comment and Critiques are welcome
Anthony Smith
During break time, I always buy lunch and eat it on this bridge. It’s right by the restaurant I work part time at, right by the river that goes through the city. It’s a fairly recent structure, only a few years old. It’s metallic frame not showing any obvious signs of strain or rust, standing strong and supporting the weight of all the people that walk across it every day.
I was leaning against the handrail, my elbows supporting my weight as I bit into a sandwich I’d just bought from a small store on the other side of the river. “Lunch time Mark?” I looked over my shoulder towards the restaurant end of the bridge. Bryan was something of a friend, of course, he was every person’s ‘buddy’ or ‘pal’ when it suited him. Bryan took out a cigarette and lit it, still holding my attention with his eyes as he did so.
“Yeah mate,” my face twitched a little at the smell of the smoke carried towards me by the wind. Bryan was a very nice person. Agreeable personality, treated everyone fairly and equally, and yet, there was something I didn’t like about him. It was as though he lived a very carefully crafted facade, one he maintained by working at his social connections, this conversation being one such instance.
Bryan turned towards the river and gazed out, placing a hand on the rail. “So what’s the plan today?” he asked, still looking away. He of course was referring to Valentine’s day which happened to be today. Truthfully, I hadn’t really thought that far, Elly was never one for celebrating commercial holidays to any great length barring Christmas.
“Not sure mate,” I smiled, turning around to lean back on the railing. Getting up earlier than Elly in the morning to get to work at half-past five was a pretty good excuse to skip the whole ‘Breakfast in bed’ shtick. “I guess I’ll go buy the girlfriend some flowers after I knock off,” with that a smile began to play across Bryan’s lips, the smile of a gambler who’s just played his cards right.
“You should just get her some flowers mate,” Bryan took the cigarette away from his mouth. “All chicks go weak for that kind of thing, it’s a safe bet”. He was probably right, I was probably going to get flowers since I was usually pretty hopeless with this kind of thing.
“Yeah, I probably will,” I took another bite out of my sandwich, eyeing him and that gambler’s smile again.
“Mate,” he turned to face me, the smirk ever present. “You do realize that they’ll all be gone by now don’t you?” with that he started laughing to himself. I didn’t think about it. There was only really one place I could get flowers from, a florist on the main road. By the time I got off work, there was going to be no way any of their stock would be left.
“Ah ****,” I laughed a little myself. I’d have to think about buying her something else.
“Hey no worries, I’ve got a proposition for ya,” he took the cigarette and stamped it out on the ground. He moved a little closer to me, bringing that offending odour of cigarette smoke with him. “I know you’re thinking that florist probably hasn’t got any left,” he looked around him, as though somebody would hear something he didn’t want them to. “I asked her, the shop keeper, to keep aside three bouquets, one for the missus, and two for a couple of the girls here,” he explained, proud of himself. “I can’t pick them up til after work, but since you finish before me, I’ll let you have one of them if you pick them up for me,” he smiled, waiting for a response.
I only really had one question, “Wait, why is it that you can’t pick it up yourself?” he took a step back as I asked this, rolling his eyes.
“Melinda and I are actually going to go catch an early movie tonight, I literally don’t have time to spare to head up the main road by foot since I walk to work and I don’t want to go back home and announce that I quickly need to duck out somewhere when we’re meant to be heading out right away,” he considered pulling out another cigarette, but put the packet back into his pocket.
“You’ll do it for me won’t you mate?” he asked sincerely. So that was it, he needed someone to bail him out and I was the man for it.
“Sure Bryan, sounds alright to me,” I gave in, though, it was a favour that I saw mutual gain from, so I didn’t mind too much. I actually would’ve been very happy if it were somebody else. Bryan being the kind of person he is, was your best mate as long as you did things his way I supposed. That’s why I didn’t try to resist the idea of helping him out with the bouquets.
“Great mate,” he slapped me on the shoulder, “Great, well I’ve gotta run back, um, how about I meet you out here on the bridge after I get off work?” He was backing away as he asked, I nodded, voicing some form of agreement, and he clapped his hands together, turning around to jog back feeling very pleased about himself I was sure.
When I headed back in myself, the restaurant was packed with couples eating lunch together. It made me happy, seeing all those people. It reminded me that be it thanks to Bryan or anyone else, if he had a gift to bring back to his loved one today, it was all that really mattered.
The end of my shift rolled around, and I gave everyone a wave on my way out. I had about an hour before Bryan finished up for the day, so I didn’t have much time to get into the middle of the city. I walked into the florist shop and was pretty taken with the sight, that is, the lack thereof. The walls and shelving were barren, like the aftermath of a war. The remnants of packaging and loose petals scattered all about what could be mistaken for an unleased store.
The eyes of the shop keeper, a young woman wearing glasses and an apron met mine as she swept the floor with a broom. “We’re all sold out I’m afraid,” she put on a sympathetic smile, as though she knew that people would be coming in looking for flowers, hoping that something was left. Her voice was tired, looking about the store it didn’t take more than a guess why.
“I’m uh, here to pick up Bryan Edgewick’s order” I replied, scratching the back of my head. She straightened her back at the name, and a gave me a dirty look.
“What? Did he send you for them or something?” she placed one hand in her apron pocket, and held the broom with the other. The room suddenly seemed to lose all of its air. Standing in that small, barren shop with her seemed to steal oxygen from me. Something was amiss here and despite only being the delivery man, she was going to let me have it in Bryan’s stead, whatever I did.
“I guess he really took it to heart when I told him not to show his face around here anymore,” she took out her hand, a cigarette between her index and middle finger. She put it to her mouth and went back for a lighter that she expertly flicked open and lit with just the one hand.
I couldn’t help cocking an eyebrow which she picked up straight away. “What? Do you think it’s weird that a florist smokes?” I crossed my arms and shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
“No, no I suppose not,” I replied, after attempting to give the question some thought.
“I know right? Some people like to give plants, collect and look at em’, others like to burn em’, smoke em’ and throw away what’s left,” she burst into her explanation, as though it’s one she’d been wanting to use that one for quite some time. A lot of people were probably a lot more upfront with their questions of how she could be a florist, but still smoke.
“I’m a bit of both I guess,” she walked over to the counter and leaned back. “That ******* Bryan sent you huh? What story did he give you?” this time it was her turn to raise an eyebrow while I rummaged through my brain for the explanation he gave me.
“Say’s he doesn’t want to run late for his girl friend tonight,” with that she laughed, she had to hold onto the cigarette to stop it from falling out of her mouth onto the ground.
“Typical man,” she finally said after getting over the joke only she seemed to understand. “******* had already paid for em’ too,” she turned to walk out to the back of the store, extinguishing her cigarette in an ashtray on her way out. Moments later she was back with three very expensive looking bouquets. Each containing similar arrangements of differently coloured flowers, more flowers than I knew the names of, and more than I’m sure the shop keeper could care to tell me about.
If she wasn’t going to tell me anything about the bouquet’s, she probably wasn’t going to tell me what inspired the grudge she had against Bryan. It wasn’t my place to say anything anyway, so I simply held out my arms as she handed them to me with little care, though somehow I managed to get my arms around all three before dropping anything.
When she stepped back, I tried to make some peace with her, at least on my own behalf, “I don’t know what’s up, but, I hope you have a happy Valentine’s day,” she closed her eyes as I said that, running one hand through her shoulder-length, brunette hair, then looking at me with just one eye open for a moment.
She let her hair down again and gave me a very faint smile. “You too mate, you too,” she exahaled, taking the broom she had back into hand and started sweeping again. She cast her gaze back down at the ground, and the way she looked made me feel sorry for her. Whatever had happened between this woman and Bryan must have had some effect on her, compounding the sense that she probably didn’t have anyone waiting for her to finish up work for the day.
I quietly left the store and made my way back to the bridge feeling less than impressed with myself at that point. It’s far too hard to ignore the kid in the sweatshop who made your pair of new Nike shoes when you’re colleagues. We were probably just going to have a quiet night together, no more recognition of today than a Valentine’s day toast at the dinner table and maybe something more if I was relatively lucky. At the end of it all, at least everything I’d done that day was for her, which made it worth walking through main street holding three bouquets in my arms and getting odd looks from people.
I was early by about 5 minutes and holding those three bouquet’s was getting tiresome, so I decided to lean on the handrail like I usually do. Of course when I lean on the handrail I’m not usually holding a bouquet, let alone three, so I leaned a little too far forward than I should have and before I knew it, the flowers all started falling out at once, their weight at the top of each bunch sliding out of the plastic that held them. It took a moment to realize what was happening and I quickly tried to reach forward to scoop the flowers back into the plastic before they fell out completely.
“****!” it had the opposite effect, one bouquet fell out completely and only one or two remained in the other. I felt my stomach drop to somewhere between my feet, I’d just lost all but one of the bouquets.
I had to think of something relatively fast, a guy like Bryan is a nice kind of person until you got on his bad side, though, at that point I could care less. Who other people know as ‘Bryan’ isn’t the same one that I and the florist could see at all. Just when I was getting all wound up thinking about what I’d do, I received a tap on the shoulder.
“He---y,” I turned around and was met with a beaming smile, frizzy hair trapped under a sun hat and a breathable, blue dress that fluttered slightly at the hem.
“Elly, what are you doing here?” I was surprised to see her here since I figured that she would just wait at home for me.
“I guess I wanted to meet you half way so we could walk together, though,” she eyed the flowers, “It looks like you’ve been up to something?”
I started stammering something, a firm grip around the last bouquet and as though it had to be any harder my name gets called out through the air. “Ma---rk!” it was Bryan, jogging up to where Elly and I stood. He ran his fingers like a comb through his hair and smelled as though he’d just bathed in deodorant. When he got close, a puzzled looked drew upon his face, “Mark, where’s the other ones?” he gave a quick smile to Elly, then focussed on me again.
He looked as though he was going to give me the benefit of the doubt and yet ready to make me explain myself in a stand-over kind of way. There they both were, both of them expected a bouquet, in fact, Bryan expected three of them. I could feel my stomach pulling me down as I looked from one to the other, more stutters escaped my mouth, every second I looked at Bryan’s smile made me sink lower.
“I uh, I dropped two of them,” I told the truth, looking down at the last bouquet, “I dropped them into the water because I was leaning too far forward”. I looked up, Bryan had swaggered backwards and rolled his eyes.
“Are you bloody serious mate?” he smacked himself in the head, his tone getting faster and more aggressive, “Those are bloody forty dollars each,” he stretched his arms out when he said that. Elly didn’t really grasp the situation, but took a spot behind me.
I walked up to Bryan and handed him the last bouquet, “Here,” I pulled out my wallet and shelled out Eighty dollars, “Consider your night paid for Bryan,” he eyed the cash I held out and decided to take it. He let a drawn out sigh escape, then shoved the flowers back in my direction.
“Look Mark,” he glanced at Elly, then to me again, “Just take the bouquet, you did bring the flowers for me anyway”. Even then, even when I’d gone and dropped two of the bouquets, he was trying to re-align my perception of him, trying to be the good guy in all of this.
“Nah mate, you take it,” I waved a hand, which only seemed to get an angry look from him.
“Fine,” he withdrew the bouquet, “Okay, well I’ve got a date to pick up,” he started to make tracks across the bridge, “See you”. We both watched quietly as he walked further and further away. It wasn’t until he was well and truly out of earshot that Elly began to ask about what just happened.
There wasn’t much to it really, any piece of jewellery I could have bought her would have been less expensive than accepting those flowers back.
---
Notes:
- I'm worried about the word count, it's 2,666 words, and I really need to shave about 400 off.
- The execution of the ending could be better. I think I need to re-evaluate it.
- I think I need to define Mark more. He seems only to be defined by other people in this story.
Comment and Critiques are welcome
