Page 4 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

Sam and I shake our heads, interested in the answer.

Lexi touches her lips, thinking about her future. She’s quiet for a few moments, building suspense for us. “I was always worried about settling down with one person. I’m only twenty-nine and I’m married. How did that happen? So, what I’m going to do is keep the spice alive. Forever!”

Samantha and I look at each other and Sam says, “You’ve been married less than a year.”

“So?”

“It’s super spicy, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” Lexi grins. “And I’m going to keep it that way. You know, I have heard people say that you stop having sex after you get married and I will never let that happen. How? I’m going to keep some things private. We have a second bathroom, so that’s the one where I do number two. I get ready, do my makeup and stuff, in private, too, so he sees the reveal and not the process. It’s like ta-da! I’m gorgeous! Not, oh watch me floss my teeth. I’ll keep asking about his days at the shop, too. Even though I knew nothing about fixing cars, I started asking and now I get the gist of what he’s saying and can hear about his days, which makes him share them with me.” She points at her sister. “I’m not like you, Sam. My man isn’t in the same field of work as I am, right? So if I pay attention and listen to what he says, learn what hecares about, it makes him talk to me more. I figured it all out! I know there’s more to learn, but this is a good diving board for me. Keep the mystery aliveandconnect with him on a real level about the things he’s interested in. He does the same for me. I talk about our dance studio all the time and he cares because I care about what he cares about. It’s reciprocal.”

Lexi really did use to be pretty selfish, so I smile, proud of her. “I’m so glad you took that chance when you did.”

She frowns at me. “What chance? Where did your floaty head go to now?”

“When you met Gage.”

Lexi bursts out with a laugh. “Oh,thatchance!”

“It was so…you.”

Samantha grins, “It really was.”

Lexi pauses petting Ralphie, reaches for my hand, and laces her fingers with mine. “Do something for me?”

With slight apprehension I cock an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“Don’t wait around for someone to see your worth.” She squeezes my hand. “Be more like what you admired in me that night. Take a chance! Takelotsof chances. We only have this one life.”

I inhale, and squeeze back. “Deal.”

THREE

Zoe

The scent of dew-kissed roses fills the air from the bushes out front of my Florist Shop, a gentle reminder of how blooms can bolster a mood as they just did mine. Yesterday I commiserated with my cousins over my shattered heart, yet today is another chance to bring joy to someone’s life. Or maybe at the very least, a bit of peacefulness.

Beauty.

I take a deep breath, letting the fragrance envelop me as I push open the door, bell roaring its earth shattering wail. My cat shifts his weight in the canvas carrier, clearly objecting to the noise, so I coo to him, “It’s okay Ralphie. It’s a lot louder when you’re right next to the speaker. You remember, don’t you? You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are.”

I continue inside, flipping on the light switch, sunlight dancing through floor-to-ceiling windows onto brick-colored tile floors. My heart calms with relief. This shop isn’t just a place to work, or a thing I pay a lease on; it’s my sanctuary. I’ve spent countless hours here arranging flowers, perfecting the displays, trimming plants, and dreaming of the smiles each bouquet or pot will bring to customers I either know by name or complete strangers I may never see again. Even though I left in ahurry last night, dialing my cousins with an S.O.S. to come to my apartment and support me, I’ve perfected an exit-the-shop routine, so everything is organized. Everything in its place.

“Oh no!”

Except the one thing that shouldn’t be here; the arrangement for the hotel I ditched in my haste. Completely forgot about it!

Looking at the beautiful and fragrant, massive arrangement, I chide myself aloud, “Oh Zoe, and you thought you were shop-closing ADHD proof,” with no one but my cat to hear me, “What’s more important? Ryder Hamilton springing a girlfriend on you, or responsibly carrying out such an amazing order to completion?” I stop in front of it, touching a sprig of Lavender as I sigh, “Love of course. Love always wins over money. That includes self-love. But still!”

Walking up to the long marble counter, I place Ralphie’s carrier next to my shop’s computer and pay machine, beside it a small display of cards which customers buy to sign for their gifted flora and fauna. The sun's rays catch on Ralphie’s green eyes through the mesh screen of his carrier, illuminating them in a way that makes them seem to glow. “Meow!” he commands me.

“Okay, okay,” I smile, and unzip his soft cage, pulling down the pliable fabric corners so he can jump out more easily.

“Meow,” he thanks me and strolls away, having found a warm streak of sun to sleep in on the counter’s far end where he knows he’ll be out of the way.

“I wish I’d brought you with me here yesterday, Ralphie. I could have used the support,” I mumble, adding quickly, “But I’m glad you’re here now,” to remind myself to stay in the moment, not dwell on the past, as I grab vases from the shelves, one by one, and set them with room between. Checking the computer quickly for online orders, I lay out some more and head into the refrigerated room, “Hello my beauties, how areyou all doing this morning?” the scent of oh so many varietals caressing my soul. Selecting from memory the ones I need, I return to my waiting vases and start arranging flowers, fingers moving instinctively as I pull together first a vibrant mix of orange tulips, pink Gerbera daisies, and even paler pink peonies.

Just as I finish the last bouquet, the door swings open, bell wailing, and in walks Tom, my delivery employee. He’s a tall, easygoing guy, with tousled hair, a permanent, crooked grin, and khaki cargo pants with a blue polo shirt that make him seem like he just stepped off a beach. “Morning, Zoe!” he calls out, deep voice warm and friendly.

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