I was sprinkling water on the peonies, daffodils, and tulips to make them look fresh since they wilted very quickly during summer. Only sunflowers seemed glowing as they appeared to respectfully bow their heads towards the rays of the mighty sun.
I saw through the spotless glass door, a familiar tall figure walking briskly with a loping stride outside the shop. From the past week, we always managed to cross paths. Our eyes met today and suddenly, his pace increased like he was almost running, trying his best to avoid me.
"Hey, flower thief! Wait!" I shouted to catch his attention while hurrying outside, but he didn't pay any heed and continued to jog ahead. I quickly caught up and grabbed his arm. I was panting heavily and breathed, "I-I want to talk to you."
He jerked his arm away from my grasp and grunted, "What?"
"Erm . . . Sorry for what happened the other day. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm so very sorry . . . " I trailed off and then confessed in a low voice, "I was kind of worried about you."
His expressions softened and I noticed his dimples disappearing which faintly appeared when he was peeved. I wondered if his dimples deepened when he smiled, but my imagination was very limited considering how he always sulked.
Although he was the one who should have been apologising for stealing flowers, it was my fault. The repentance of my actions was gnawing me in the inside. I should have been sensitive since he clearly was not in his best mental health and what if my words had triggered him? What if he had actually jumped after listening to my venomous rambling? I felt extremely guilty and I would have been responsible if he had actually committed suicide. I had unknowingly enacted a crime- gave the incentive to die.
How much more detestable could I be?
"Can we start fresh?" I tried to put up a saccharine smile, but I knew that he could see right through me and he just nodded. "Alright, er-cool. But before starting new, I want to know why you stole those roses? I want to trust you enough, so please tell me the truth. The real reason."
His nostrils flared in annoyance and he grumbled, "I had lost my job, wanted to take my heinous, little revenge and couldn't waste money on something as petty as flowers. That's the truth."
'But why four roses?' was just at the tip of my tongue, but I chose to remain silent, afraid that I would infuriate him further.
"You lost your job?" I dug in my pocket and he gritted his teeth. I retrieved my shop's pamphlet and waved it in front of him. "See, we're looking for someone to help at the shop. You can take up this job if my grandpa approves of you . . . The pay is good and work is less, mostly while my grandpa's away to bring stocks of flowers from the market or watering and plucking sunflowers from our little farm."
"What makes you think that I'll work at your shop?"
"Because you're desperate," I stated nonchalantly and his lips pursed into a thin line. "You don't have any money and lost your job, probably at the departmental store down the lane which hires mostly teenagers. Having no money even drove you to steal something 'as petty as flowers,' your own words, not mine. So, that makes you desperate."
I could actually feel his pride crumbling within him, but he tried not to show it and snatched the pamphlet from my hands. I smirked inwardly and he quietly scanned the information, ignoring my lingering gaze on him. Then his piercing sea-coloured eyes met mine, he snapped, "Where's your grandpa?"
"He'll come by in some time, you can sit inside the shop till then," I offered smugly and walked towards the shop where he grudgingly followed me.
"Just so you know, I'm not working for you. I'm working for your grandpa," he muttered behind me and I scoffed.
"Whatever. You'll get this job only when you promise me that you won't steal flowers again. Promise?"
He didn't say anything and before I could insist further, he forced the words out, "Yeah that."
"Alrighty," I said feigning cheerfulness and pulled open the door of our shop. He followed close behind me as I entered. I pushed a chair towards him, indicating him to sit down. Half an hour went by quietly without him uttering a single word and drumming his fingers softly on the countertop, while I tended to a few customers and then fed my pet worm with dried leaves and flowers.
"You want to feed him?" I asked, the worm crawling on my finger and I extended my hand. Immediately, the flower thief shrank back and I grinned. "You're afraid of little Fred, aren't you?"
"Fred?"
"Ah, he's called Fred. His full name is Alfred González because I like to think that he's Spanish," I explained briefly and he swallowed.
"He's a worm," he spat out and his nose scrunched up when he saw Fred crawling higher up on my arm. "You sell flowers and breed worms? It'll chew all the fresh flowers."
"I don't breed worms. I just take care of Fred, genius. He's so green that he was camouflaged with the leaves of the sunflower. He's one of a kind, do you want to touch him? Look, how fat, slimy and squishy he is." I took Fred on the tip of my finger and brought him closer to the flower thief who visibly shuddered.
"Seriously, if you put that-that thing on me, I'll kill it," he threatened and swiftly got up from the chair, backing away from Fred.
"You murderer, look at Fred! He looks so sad!"
"You're mad, cancer has gotten in your brain," he stated in a low voice and I knew that he didn't mean it in an offending way. He ran a hand through his dark hair and said, "Where's your grandpa? I've come here for a job interview, not to play with that thing."
I ignored him and cooed quietly to Fred, saying that he would always be important to me when my grandpa barged in through the door. He removed his cap and wiped his sweat with the back of his sleeve. His eyes then darted between the flower thief and me. The flower thief awkwardly tugged at his full sleeves, a habit of his when he was nervous, I assumed.
"Who's this skinny boy?" my grandpa asked tartly and now I knew that I had to deal with two grumpy male species.
"He's come here looking for a job. I thought you might want to hire him."
"He already looks dead to me, will he put all his efforts and work?" he asked in a mocking tone and I rolled my eyes.
"Grandpa, if you keep turning down all the people then nobody will be working for us! You need to believe a little more--- "
"And what has believing given me, eh?" he cut me off, challenging me. "Lost her to cancer and now you, is there a reason to believe?"
Out of the blue, he brought this topic and I knew exactly why. I didn't even blame him, he had lost his wife that was my grandma to cancer and now me. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I tried to feed him lies and make him believe that I would survive just to keep him going and not make him depressed, but the after-effects of my lies . . . Well, it wasn't good.
He stopped believing completely in anything and everything, even God.
The flower thief cleared his throat and introduced himself confidently, "Sir, I'm Logan Kellerman and I have always worked hard, you can't doubt me. Give me a chance and I'll prove it to you. I will give my all to this. I really will."
"Yes, please give the flower thief . . . erm . . . Logan a chance. You don't need to believe in him yet, but you can give him a chance. The boy really needs a job," I pleaded and Logan glared at me, probably furious for making him look so desperate and helpless for a job which he was though. I walked over to my grandpa and clung at his arm. "Please grandpa . . . Can you do this for me? I haven't got much time left and I barely ask for anything, so please . . . "
His charcoal coloured eyes had lost its tinge of deep blue sparkle over the years as he scanned my pleading expression. His face wrinkled into a defeated scowl.
"Alright, alright, but only for you," he murmured and I threw my arms over his shoulders in triumph.
"Thank,s, grandpa, you're the best!" I beamed and turned to Logan. "Congratulations! You better be worth this fuss!"
I could barely contain my excitement as I clasped my hands together and suppressed a squeal. Logan too seemed astonished and elated but tried to cover it up with a stoic façade. I did feel accountable for manipulating my dear grandpa, but at least I helped the poor boy get to his feet. I swore that I wouldn't use my disease as a way of manipulating people from this day onwards. It made me feel guilty and disgusting.
"Fine now, get to work you lazy dimwits!" my grandpa roared and I smiled, scurrying towards the counter and pulling Logan with me.
The pot of sapling slipped through Logan's hands and crashed into tiny, million pieces, the mud scattering on the floor. Logan staggered back and I watched him, my eyes wide in alarm. He looked startled, fidgeting with whatever his fingers could hold on. His forehead creased as his eyes swept over the broken pieces and I rushed to his side."It's your first week here and you already created trouble! How even did you manage to do that?" I asked accusingly and he scratched his neck. "Wait . . . Did you see a worm in there?""No!" he replied so quickly, afraid of being caught and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "No . . . I-I mean that there was no stupid worm.""You aren't a very good liar, boy," I stated and my lips stretched into a wily grin. "You need to get over your fear for something as tiny as worms, it's really silly. Besides, you work here and now you'll see them every day. You have to toughen up. Thank God my grandpa isn't here or you'll be fired right away."He didn't say
"What are you digging from the side of the couch? Did you drop rice there? I told you not to eat on the couch! Now go and sit at the dining table!" my mum yelled at my little sister who looked startled and then quietly did what she was asked to do."Maa, can I borrow one of your dresses? I have that wedding thing to attend tomorrow," I said as I picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and my mum peeked at me from above her magazine."Yeah, of course, dear," she replied with a smile, her entire demeanour changing. "We can even go shopping to buy some new clothes for you--- ""No, no. I told you before also, I'm not going to let you waste any money on me." I bit into the apple and leaned against the wall. She looked conflicted, but I gave her a reassuring smile. I didn't want her to buy clothes which would only last till I'm alive. My sister could be given those clothes, but there would be memories of me attached and it would be unfair to her. I didn't want my sister to be sad.Suddenly,
I stared at my reflection, not a pleasant sight, I knew. Granted I had blonde hair and blue eyes, supposedly striking features, but it was really not. Even when I didn't have cancer, I wasn't considered pretty, maybe average or little above average [depending on how I dressed] because my eyebrows were light, my forehead a little wide and the tip of my nose so sharp that it could be used as a weapon to stab people. Now add cancer to this entire mixture of absurd genes, didn't fit, right? Definitely not.I had no complaint about my eyes because they were fine, but over the years of battling cancer, my eyes definitely lost its sparkle. I had scanty eyelashes and a bit of hair on my head which barely reached to my neck [much better than when I was bald and roamed around with a queer wig on my head] and I had certainly gotten thin in all parts of my body, except my cheeks.My chubby cheeks made my face look rounder and my nose sharper than ever. I had become so pale with no presence of the
"I, Katherine Joseph, take you, Simon Pritchett, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part," Eliza's sister Katherine said fervently and tears sprang in my eyes.I would never get to fall in love or get to dress in white while my mum and sister helped me with my makeup. I would never get to hear, 'you're a beautiful bride,' from my brother or get to walk down the aisle with my dad. I would never get to commit to a man, share vows, carry his children, bicker over trivial issues, go on holiday trips and grow old with him. I would never get to truly, madly and deeply fall in love with someone.I silently blinked back my tears and took a glimpse of Eliza seated on the left side in the front row, her hands clutching her fancy gown tightly. Although she tried to remain stoic, I could see her lips quivering and hands trembling. She didn't have to wallow in misery, she had eig
"Here are your lilies, Uncle Desmond," I said with a small smile and Uncle Desmond smiled back at me warmly, his eyes crinkling."Thank you, JJ, and where is your grandpa? That old man has completed seventy-five years and is still working as a young fellow, he deserves a celebration," he said playfully as his eyes twinkled in mischief. "Tell him that his friend's missing him.""Of course, I'll tell him that.""Yes, yes . . . Oh, how I miss those old days where we would just go to the bar, discuss women and sports over a couple of beers. War changed us and then marriage . . . How we both became men from boys and used to talk about being a good father to our children and a good husband . . . " he started reminiscing and trailed off, when he knew that he was going the wrong way- the death of my grandma. His eyes were teary as he let out a light laugh and gathered the lilies in his arms. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, JJ. Give my wishes to your grandpa and take care of him, he gets lonel
My dad, mum, Shaun, Gemma, Logan and I were sitting at the dining table, saying our grace. We weren't particularly religious, but we always prayed during occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, thanksgiving etc. Grandpa and his cousins had gone out to party at a local restaurant where they usually hung out because they had their own fun to catch up on so this left us with only my family and Logan. I expected Logan to grumble about how he had to endure the pain of sitting through the unbearable silence which prevailed because of my mum's and my brother's recent argument. However, he seemed to enjoy the silence since he looked like his usual self, awkward, but a bit calmer.We started to dive in the food which comprised of Vietnamese cuisine which my mum had specially prepared for grandpa since he used to always love what my grandma used to cook for him. Usually, at our home, we didn't have Vietnamese food because my sister couldn't digest strong spices like ginger, garlic, shrimp past
"I need to fix them, Logan, I-I need to fix them all!" I felt myself slip into a state of hysteria because my body started trembling and I started laughing in pity. "It's all because of me, I have to-to fix them all! How can I die peacefully w-when my family's falling apart like that? How can I Logan?"Something snapped in me because I erupted into fresh tears and I couldn't help myself. I buried my face in between my knees and started weeping, my entire body shaking. I could taste the salty tears in my mouth as I tried to wipe them against the fabric of my yoga pants but to no avail. I couldn't stop my tears.I could feel Logan sitting stiffly beside me and I stammered, "I-I'm s-sorry for being s-so pathetic--- ""It's okay . . . Hush now," Logan hushed me and I could feel him rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. I didn't know he was capable of providing me with comfort since he was such a bum most of the time, but my body actually relaxed. I looked up from my knees and turned my ne
"Ah, put it in the box, quick!" I shrieked with laughter as Jamal threw the small crab in the box and Gemma hurriedly shut it. Jamal started breathing heavily while dramatically acting to wipe the imaginary sweat on his forehead. Gemma peered into the box, we had caught four small crabs and the thrill of catching them was still surging through our bodies.Logan was sprawled under a palm tree nearby, leaning against the trunk with his legs fully stretched out and arms casually spread on either side of his body. His eyes were closed peacefully and his head was tilted upwards. The rays of the sun fell over his face and the shadow of the leaves above made the light on his face appear in stripes, which made him look so aesthetically pleasing without even trying."Hey, Logan!" I called out and watched his eyes flutter open as he blinked rapidly at me like he had snapped out of a trance. He always did that. He then scrambled to sit erect and his hands dug in the sand in full alert. "You alri