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She passes a flower vendor on her way home, one she passes nearly every day, but this day has to pause and take a few steps back to examine the display. It’s the ranunculus that catches her eye, a shade so purple it’s nearly black. She picks up the bouquet with a bit of nostalgia.
How long ago was it? Three years ago, maybe. It was the first time since they’d been living in New York together that she’d had to go away for a week. It was peculiar how quickly they’d become accustomed to being together every day when previously they’d spend so much of their time apart.
She’d never flown into LaGuardia before and probably picked the worst time to give it a try. Not only was the plane delayed, construction sent passengers on numerous detours in and around the airport in every which way but to the taxi stand.
She’d felt weary and annoyed by the time she’d spotted the signage for the exit. With any luck, all she’d had left to do was take one more escalator and then she’d be on her way home to her husband. As the escalator crested and the main hall came into view, she suppressed the girlish smile that tugged at her lips and dipped her head slightly to hide the blush in her cheeks.
Hank had stood amid the crowd, relaxed and at ease even as passengers toting wheeled bags and crying toddlers rushed past. He’d had on her favorite pair of dark jeans and his leather jacket over a black t-shirt. His hair had been disheveled in that signature way that only served to make him infuriatingly more attractive. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand and next to him was a man in chauffeur’s uniform holding a white paper with HIS WIFE written on it, and an arrow pointing at Hank.
No longer able to suppress her smile, she strolled towards him slowly, tugging at the belt of her camel hair coat to cinch the waist a little tighter. At the last second, she turned her gaze to the chauffeur. He wasn’t much taller than her, stocky, with straight black hair down over his ears and pockmarked cheeks.
“Are you my ride?” she asked.
“Are you his wife?” he asked.
“I might be.”
“You were right,” the chauffeur said to Hank.
Stella gave Hank a questioning look.
“I told him my wife would be the single-most attractive woman he’d ever seen and all he’d have to do was look for the lady most out of my league in the airport to spot her.”
The chauffeur gave a snort-laugh and then put his hand out to take her bag from her. She relinquished it as Hank bent to kiss her quickly on the lips and then put his arm around her. He brought the bouquet of deep purple flowers up to her chest and she took it from him with a smile.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Thought I’d surprise you. Are you surprised?”
“Very.”
“Good.” He pulled her closer to his side and kissed her temple. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”
The flowers had done well in a vase placed on the coffee table until they’d finally wilted and died almost three weeks later. She’d come across other bouquets of ranunculus many times since, in pink or yellow or orange, but none that particular shade of deep purple like the time he’d met her at the airport.
Sella buys the bouquet and touches the petals almost reverently as she takes the elevator up to the loft. She drops her keys into the bowl by the door, sets her briefcase down and steps out of her high heels before she makes her way across the kitchen.
Hank isn’t in their bedroom and he isn’t in the office. She checks for any notes or texts she may have missed, but there’s nothing. She opens the door that leads up to the roof access and finds him there, sprawled out in the canopy daybed in a pair of half-buttoned jeans and the fireplace on low. It’s not quite twilight hour, but the sun is low and the sky is a bruise of blues and pinks and purples.
“Hey, Sherlock.”
Stella presents the bouquet to Hank as she crawls onto the daybed on her knees. He takes it from her and lays it over his chest to take her hand and hold her steady as she slides down onto her side next to him.
“For me?” he asks, crinkling the plastic wrapping around the flowers.
“I wanted to surprise you.” She lays her head down on his shoulder, and looks up at him. “Are you surprised.”
“Very.”
“Good.” She smiles as he leans in to kiss her.
The End