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Octavio made his way up the short, narrow pathway, forcing himself to not pay too much attention to the overgrown flower beds as he passed them by. He could just about make out the outline of a figure through the front window, moving around at a practised pace and he let out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t be alone in this. He’d never been here without Elliott before.
He slid the key his partner had given him into the door’s lock, letting himself into the trickster’s childhood home, swearing quietly to himself as he bumped the large bouquet he was carrying against the doorframe, helplessly watching as a collection of orange petals fell to the floor. He hadn’t even noticed he’d also somehow managed to crumple the decorative paper surrounding the flower's stems, and for a moment was secretly glad Elliott wasn’t here to see it.
The nurse smiled politely at him as he entered the living room.
“Look who came to see you, Evelyn!” she said in a cheery tone.
Octavio clenched the flowers’ stems a little tighter when Evelyn didn’t turn to acknowledge his presence; the telltale sign that she wasn’t having a good day.
He nodded curtly to the nurse as she passed by him to enter the kitchen, quietly saying something about next week’s medication.
Octavio took that as his cue to approach the cosy armchair Evelyn was sitting in, crouched down beside it, and laid the bouquet in her lap.
“Um…Elliott got held up at work, so he asked me to bring these over. He said he’ll come by tomorrow.”
The gift seemed to catch her attention and she smiled, delicately running her fingers over the flowers’ faces.
“Marigolds,” she hummed softly, and Octavio nodded.
“He said he picked them especially for today.”
“They’re lovely.”
The runner stood, curiously approaching a nearby shelf to inspect the few birthday cards decorating it, though he didn’t recognise the signatures inside. Elliott had decided to bring his mother’s 'main' birthday gift and card to her tomorrow, but didn’t want her to receive nothing on her birthday, so Octavio had been given the task of picking up the bouquet he’d ordered and delivering it.
If he was honest, he felt out of place being here without the trickster. Evelyn had always been kind to him since he and Elliott had begun their relationship, but they’d never spent time alone like this before. He knew about her condition, but hadn’t really seen it at its worst. He began to wonder if he should just leave, until a framed photograph on the shelf caught his eye.
He picked it up and chuckled, his eyes scanning over the image of Elliott, holding a fan-voted award for some tabloid magazine. It was a great picture, despite the actual award not being anything impressive.
“I have this picture too,” Octavio said, carrying the frame to Evelyn. “He got me a smaller version to put in my wallet. But I didn’t know how to tell him I don’t ever use a wallet.”
“Oh, isn’t he handsome?” she replied, turning her attention away from the photograph and towards Octavio. “Is he a friend of yours?”
Octavio felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn’t sure if he should correct her or not, or if that would just make her more confused. He took the frame from her and set it on the side table and tried to draw her attention back to the bouquet.
“Should we, uh, put these in some water or something?”
“Oh, yes. I wonder if there is a vase around here,” Evelyn said, lifting the flowers to her face to give them an appreciative sniff. “Oh, look! There’s even a little card in here that says, hmm…’happy birthday’! We’ll have to ask someone whose birthday it is."
“I’ll go and see if I can find something to put them in,” Octavio said, taking the opportunity to back out of the situation.
He made his way back out into the hallway, and exhaled deeply. He was beginning to feel glad that Elliott wasn’t here. Seeing Evelyn like this on today of all days would break his heart. However, at the same time, he couldn’t help but wish that he was here. A selfish thought, he knew, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling out of his depth.
As if he knew he was being thought of, Octavio’s phone began to buzz, with Elliott’s name and photograph illuminating the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, babe. Did you get to mom’s okay?”
His fingers instinctively moved to toy with the key inside his pocket.
“Yeah, I remembered where to go.”
Elliott seemed to let out a content sigh on the other end of the phone.
“Did she like the flowers?”
Octavio peeked his head around the doorframe, looking into the living room where Evelyn was sitting in her chair, exactly how he’d left her, with the bouquet of flowers still resting securely in her lap.
“Yeah, amor. I, uh, think she really loved them.”
“Great! If she…Aw, crap. I’m gonna have to go. Delivery’s coming in. But tell her I’ll see her tomorrow, okay?”
Octavio nodded, as if his partner could see it and hung up the call. He collected the old, painted pot from the side-table by the door, deciding it looked enough like a vase to do the job, briefly filling it in the bathroom before returning to the living room.
“Will this be okay for the flowers?” he asked, prompting Evelyn to smile up at him.
“That…Yes, perfect.”
She graciously passed the bouquet to Octavio, watching as he placed it by the window, the early evening light making the petals' hues appear a little brighter.
“Marigolds. How beautiful they are,” Evelyn hummed. “You know, my boys…E-Elon, was it? One of them…made that pot for my last birthday.”
“Oh, cool,” Octavio replied, trying to not pay too much attention to the aging, chipped paint. “Did, um…Elliott help him?”
“Elliott?” she chuckled, a fondness to her tone. “My little inchworm. He should be home soon. You know he works at that new…what was it. The water place. I think you’ll like him. He’s a real sweetheart.”
Octavio couldn’t ward off the sheepish laugh that escaped him.
It wasn’t the memory he’d hoped she’d have of his partner, but it was something.
“I think you might be right,” he said, sitting down on the sofa across from her. “I have a feeling he’s a great guy.”