DRIVE WEST

SIX - This Is Going To Be A Problem

Soundtrack for the chapter

None of Your Concern by Jhené Aiko

-

At the impressionable age of fourteen, Monday March came home to an ostantasious flower arrangement sitting on her table; her name written on the little rectangular card in big cursive letters; the bold, dark symbols contrasting the pearly white color of the stationary in a beautiful disagreement.

She needed not open the card, however, for she already knew who the gift was from. In fact, she walked past it as she had done with the one she received the week before. They were from her father. You know, the man who promised he'd be at her piano recital. The same man who also promised he'd be at her soccer tournament, and wasn't.

Yes, he lied. Yes, he dissappointed. But the one thing Monday could always count on him for was to receive those flowers the very next day: Each larger than the last, along with a sincere apology, written by his assistant, Karla.

She grew up watching her friends fantasize about receiving those red roses along with the box of overpriced sweets on Valentine's Day; but to Monday, roses were either excuses, regrets, or at its best, a dying plant.

"What do you recommend?" The suited man asked her.

Monday looked up at him with a nurturing smile. Her new bangs were long enough to touch her eyelashes and tremble with them when she blinked; she bit her lower lip romantically and walked over to the daisies, "Who is it for?"

The man looked down for a split second, his brain remembering the person, his lips accidentally turning up into a smile, "My fiancée." he answered.

Monday sighed sentimentally, "Well, a Lilac symbolizes a strong love." She looked at him, "Hard to shake. Firm foundation." She walked around; her finger tips roaming through the flowers around her, "The Orchids are always an elegant choice." She bent her back to get to their level and caressed their petals, "Hope, luck, and love." She stood back up, "They're always a safe bet. I'd tell you to get her these, of course, if it weren't for," she turned around and plucked a rose. She twisted its stem and watched it turn, "The red Rose."

The man smiled, "I never knew what it stood for."

She looked up at him, "Everlasting love, of course." She handed him the rose and he examined it with a remanicing smile, "The simplest way to demonstrate the deepest form of love."

The man looked at Monday with insight, "I'll have a bouquet of roses, please."

She nodded and grabbed the others; they met at the cashier. "You're so good at your job." The man whispered under his breath, handing her the money, "You can really tell when someone loves what they do, you know?" She smiled and thanked him quietly. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

She counted his change in hushed tones before answering in a smile, "I'm Zen."

The man glowed, "I'm Edwin." He smiled, "Thank you, Zen. I'll be back." He reached for his pocket and got out a handful of coins, and then let it fall in her tip jar.

She waved goodbye to him and then had the flower shop to herself.

"Red Roses," She whispered to herself, "How original."

"Why are you so good at this?" her ear-piece rang. Monday smiled at Feyre's comment. Elliott joined, "She could sell ice to an eskimo. At winter."

Monday leaned over the counter and started cleaning it, "Flattery will get you nowhere, Wilder."

Elliott chuckled, "Will it get me a third date?"