“I am,” she said. “Of course, I am. Willow Rayne is one lucky woman.”
I didn’t respond to that. Willow was a lot of things, but lucky, I was certain, was not one of them.
I ended the call quickly after that and pulled the watch out of my pocket. The pad of my thumb brushed over the strap, the memory coming to mind of why it was in my possession.
It seemed as if a lifetime had gone by since those days, but in my head and in my heart, it felt like it was just yesterday, we had stood next to the burning house and mixed our blood. Even now, if I closed my eyes, I could see her. Her lips trembling, her hands cold. So cold. But her enormous eyes filled with love. So much love it kept me alive for twelve years.
“Bernardo,” I called.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Do you know a good florist in Folsom?”
“A good flower shop, Sir?”
“Yes.”
“Not really, Sir,” he replied, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“Alright. Then take me to Natoma Street. There’s one there, if I remember correctly.”
“Uh, we’re no longer heading to your house, Sir?”
“It’s just a detour,” I replied.
“Yes, Sir,” he said sharply, as he changed his route.
3
Willow
-if it takes a thousand tears-
I snipped off the stem of a Red Magic Daylily, and brought it to my nose. Its scent was not the most fragrant, but it filled my body with a strange sense of wistfulness. It was the same as being transported to one’s childhood by the smell of apple pie baking or incense smoke. Although in my case, bizarrely, I had no memories attached to the flower, so couldn’t understand why it had such an effect on me.
Perhaps it belonged in that black hole of my life. Those two years that are lost to me. In the beginning I used to try to remember, but every time I did, I would end up with a pounding headache. The doctor advised me not to force the memories. If they were going to come back they would come back on their own, one by one, or all at once.
After all these years I knew they were not coming back. I didn’t mourn for them, but I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that I was missing something important. My friends tell me I was just a kid. Nothing that important could have happened to me in those years. I had just moved into Redburn and probably just went to school and hung around with the other school kids. Although it did bother me that none of my friends came to see me in hospital or afterwards. Not that I would have remembered them, but still. Did I have no friends at all?
Rising to my feet, my full basket dangling from the crook of my arm, I headed for the back door of the shop. A gloved Sandra was repotting a rubber tree.
Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the flowers I carried. She waved the trowel in her hand at me. “Ugh, you’re not including those again, are you?”
“I have some ideas,” I said. “Roses are pleasant, but this should add a new twist to the bouquets.”
“Well good luck keeping them fresh,” she remarked, as I continued on my way.
I set the basket down on my work surface, and was about to begin when the hum of a car engine arriving at our front door made me turn my head.
“I think the roses are here,” Sandra said, pulling off her gloves. She headed out of the store and the sound of low laughter as well as some friendly banter filtered over. Ah, Bradley was here. They would make a good pair. I wished Bradley would ask her out. It was obvious by how much time Bradley spent in the shop that he liked Sandra, but was too chicken to make the first move.
Soon enough both of them came in carrying three buckets of flowers.
“Hey, Bradley,” I greeted with a smile.
“Willow,” he responded, with a big grin. “How’s it going?”
“Well, as of last night, I will officially make a healthy profit for the first time since I started this business three months ago,” I said quietly, but the words made my heart swell with happiness and pride.
“That’s grand news,” he said sincerely. “Don’t forget. You’ll have an insane patronage today and tomorrow too.”
“Yeah, the online orders have been pouring in too,” Sandra said on her way out of the shop to bring me the rest of the roses.
“Wait for me,” Bradley said, and hurried after her.
“Wow,” Sandra exclaimed, pushing open the door. “I didn’t know luxurious cars came to our street.”
I looked up from my arrangement and saw the shiny black Mercedes parked in front of the Caribbean grocery store a few shops down from us. Its windows were tinted, and there was very little that I could see so I lost interest very quickly.