Chapter Text
I walked along a grayish path, red-orange autumn leaves crunched under my feet. At this time of year, it is impossible to even walk somewhere quietly, the whole environment hears my every step. Even though in this depressing place no one pays attention to another person, one comes here for memories, goodbye. And not to make new friends with someone who also came to visit someone. I hated it, the memories crushed me, but somehow I tried to manage. To go through life with my head held high as he always taught me, how he instilled in me a passion for plants, and then disappeared without a trace. And now, instead of him, I look at the stone slab on which his name is written. The man who raised me, devoted part of his life to it, the man who didn't even live to meet my girlfriend, get married, have grandchildren. Who left me when I needed him most. But I managed, I didn't blame him and I was grateful for everything he did for me. I couldn't have had a better father, and the fact that the disease took him away from me earlier than others... Well, I just tried to be strong like he told me to be. I lived my life so that he would be proud of me, so that I would never have to regret anything and someday I could say I was happy with myself because I know he would be. I just stood still with a gentle smile on my face, I knew that sadness wouldn't do me any good, neither would breaking when I was here. He wouldn't want that. So I just stood like a pillar of salt and stared at the marble slab and his little picture attached to it. They always told me that I resembled him, and it was possible that it was true. What we had in common was our looks, our interests, and those fox ears and tail, my trademarks that are hard to ignore on first meeting, the reason why people somehow remember me more often. Even when they don't know who I am, they just look, smile and say, “Oh it's that fennec! We haven't seen each other in a long time!” even when I have no clue who they are.
A loud sigh escaped my lips, I slowly got up from the bench and stretched. I should not sit here for too long after all Marie is waiting for me, and tomorrow morning I have to get up to open the flower shop.
I just walked away and headed towards the exit, evening was approaching, the shadows were getting longer and longer, the last rays of today's sun were falling on the autumn trees. After so many colors, this place continued to seem grayer than others, its atmosphere was heavy. I hate cemeteries. Lots of very similar gray-black tombstones made mostly of marble, some of them had a few candles on them, different-colored candles and flowers that indicated that the loved ones of that person continued to come to that person, remembered him or her, cared about his or her resting place even when they knew they would never see each other again. Some graves were old, dirty, or simply abandoned. Full of warm-colored leaves, and there was even moss on the more neglected part. These people are probably not remembered by anyone, or for some reason although they want to, they can't come here. After all, not everyone likes to visit the cemetery, I probably wouldn't do it myself if it weren't for the fact that when I come here and think of my father my doubts go away. He just wants to be that way so that I can proudly say that I am his son.
Among these gray headstones, several people standing at the graves of loved ones, flowers placed on them as well as candles. One in particular stood out, two large bouquets of white flowers. The flowers had withered a bit, but each candle was burning, as if someone kept coming by to replace the inserts with new ones. Next to the memorial someone sat, a well-built boy with a darker complexion, but not too dark either. He had white hair through which at first made me think he was an old man, but no. He was young, I wouldn't have given him more than 25. That is, it is possible that we are of a similar age. I slowed down slightly, I can't remember the last time someone so casual caught my attention. He didn't realize I was looking at him, or was he just ignoring it? There was a blank look on his face, he sat in silence and stared blankly at the grave as if he had completely lost touch with the world. I looked at the name on the slab, a woman of 23. In fact, she was far too young to die. His sister? A girlfriend? A friend? I have no idea. But the sight of his nailed empty face makes me depressed in my heart too, I can no longer look at it. Tomorrow I will probably forget all about it, the sight of him will become just a meaningless detail of my life. I again resumed my earlier pace, to leave the cemetery grounds and go to my car which was standing in the parking lot. As I took my place behind the wheel I took a moment to cool down before turning the key, his face. His heartbroken but emotionless face reminded me of me after my father died. He resembled most people who have experienced loss, but despite such commonalities, everyone experiences it in their own way. I sighed again and leaned my head against the seat of the car, even though I don't know him and saw him for the first and probably last time in my life I feel terribly sorry for him. And although he's a complete stranger to me, I hope he can cope, that he has someone to support him in this situation. That he is not alone with this.
I slowly drove away, about ten minutes later I was already outside the block of flats where I lived. In which waiting for me was my beloved, with whom I had been looking forward to meeting ever since I left for work in the morning, leaving her sleeping in bed. As soon as I turned the key and entered the apartment I was greeted by the smell of the delicious dinner she had cooked.
- I'm back! - I called out joyfully pulling off my shoes, then walked deep into our little nest. It wasn't very big, an apartment with two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom that was fully sufficient for us. At least for now.
- Hi Nari, gosh how I missed you! - She greeted me with her trademark wide smile after which she came and hugged me, and I placed a tender kiss on her forehead also pleased to be back to her. - How was it at work? Do you have any regular customers yet? - She asked slightly pulling away from me so that she could look into my eyes. She is so beautiful, I stroked my hand through her long brown hair and stared as if enchanted at her blue wonderful eyes.
- Well, I think so. Thanks to your advertising, more and more people are coming, thank you for that Marie.
- After all, you know that supporting my boyfriend's flower shop is my priority! I couldn't help you with your dream, I support you and I'm glad you're succeeding. - Marie is a journalist, and runs a blog on the Internet that has a lot of followers. On it she posts various reviews, deep thoughts or just such silly things as a picture of a flower she bought at my flower shop and writing that you can't find better cared for flowers anywhere. I love her, and such gestures on her part only made my feelings for her deepen. She was my one and only ideal girl whom fate sent me just when I needed it most. Thanks to her I did not give up, I realized my dream of opening a flower shop, and although the beginnings of such a business are difficult, I believe that with her by my side I am able to do everything. That's why I plan to propose to her soon.
- You don't even know how much this means to me. - I said moving my hand from her forehead, to her cheek and stroked it with my thumb, looking at her with tenderness, observing each of her beautiful freckles, her beautiful dimples that were visible when she smiled. I admit, I fell in love up to my ears, and the fact that she reciprocates my feelings makes me the happiest man in the world.
- I think so much for me silly, and now go rest after work, in a moment I will bring you dinner. - She said after which she disappeared behind the threshold of the kitchen after just a moment, and in accordance with her instructions I sat down on the sofa in the living room and made myself comfortable giving my body a rest after this rather busy day. But I wouldn't change it in any respect. After all these years, I was finally able to love my work, to wake up every day with a smile that often did not leave me all day. I love plants, it's such a great interest of mine that my father instilled in me. The appearance of flowers has always aroused in me, regardless of the species I have always looked at them in awe, and the fact that I can now take care of them for days makes me feel like I am in heaven.
- Here you go, enjoy your meal. - Marie put a plate in front of me with a beautifully smelling hot meal, it was a chicken dish that is her show-off dish. As soon as I answered her we both began to eat, happy with this quiet moment, an integral part of our daily life, our life together that began two years ago and that I hope will last forever. When we finished eating we simply sat next to each other on the couch and talked about the course of that day, it was practically no different from the previous ones, but after that we still listened carefully to each other's every word, as if there was no world beyond us. And so we lived our lives, quietly absorbed in our sweet daily life. Soon after, we watched some movie on TV, took a bath and went to bed.
*****
When I woke up in the morning, I slowly got out of bed trying not to wake up my girlfriend. I didn't want to leave her, but the thought of another nice day in my own florist shop made me quickly get ready for the day ahead, drink coffee, eat toast for breakfast and leave the apartment to go to my work. When I went inside the flower shop, I put out all the flowers that had been tucked away for the night, got everything ready to open and turned the sign on the door to show “open.” The day passed quietly like any other, I waited for customers to show up in the meantime preparing orders for bouquets. I had a few regular customers, even before I opened the flower shop I had been doing floristry, arranging flowers for orders by advertising on the Internet, and fortunately a lot of people appreciated my work, and the people who came to pick up their orders always had the same amazed and happy expression on their faces. I loved how flowers can bring happiness, how many words and emotions they can express. It's like for many occasions you can give them, that they fit practically everything and, most importantly, they are so beautiful. I was arranging the bouquet humming under my breath a song that just happened to be playing on the radio, I smiled softly and was quite absorbed in my activity. It made me happy in the end, I knew that today a smile would appear on the face of another person. That once again my work and experience would be appreciated, and I would perfectly meet the customer's expectations. When the sound of the door opening and the bell announcing it came to my long fox ears, I jumped up slightly and looked at the person who came inside. I recognized him from somewhere, darker complexion, shoulder-length white hair, dressed in black.
- Good morning! - I greeted him cheerfully, which surprised him a little is it so strange to see a friendly salesman in a flower shop?
- I'm looking for a rose. - He said looking around the room, when he noticed the flowers he was interested in he approached them with a quick step. I looked at it wondering which color he would choose, first he reached for the white one but quickly retracted his hand and grabbed the red one. He walked up to the cash register with it.
- It's really a beautiful flower, although people think it's a bit corny.
- Yes it is true, but the person for whom he buys it loves roses. So it must be a rose. - He replied by handing me the flower, then I was able to get a closer look at his face. When I saw his blank look I recognized him. He was the one sitting in the cemetery yesterday.
- In that case, tie a ribbon around him? Do you think he will be delighted by the sheer simplicity of it? - I asked while still smiling gently, I couldn't help but be nice to the customer, especially since the customer was nice to me. He took a moment to think about it.
- I usually gave it to her with a ribbon, so now it can be on its own. I think she is beautiful enough on her own.
- Well said. - The boy paid, he had a neutral as well as tired expression on his face, the slight bags under his eyes could be a sign of a sleepless night or several. It was clear that he had not been taking good care of himself lately, but I am just a florist I should not interfere in someone's life. The boy as he took the flower in his hand again and looked at it closely, a slight shimmer lit up his hitherto empty eyes. A faint note of warmth, deep affection, as well as frightening despair.
- Thank you, my wife will definitely like it. - I gently nodded, glad that despite his low expectations I could help him. The boy turned around and slowly headed for the exit.
- You are welcome to come again. - I told him on the way out, however, he did not answer anything just left. I didn't know if we would ever see each other again, although it was our second meeting he didn't even realize the first one. I simply went back to my duties, no longer despairing about this client.