“Do you like roses because of your name or…?
“Roses were my mother’s favorite flower. That’s how I got my name.”
“What happened to her?”
“She got sick and passed away three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Rosabelle,” I say, heartbroken for her.
“Thank you, Sir.”
We walk in silence for a few moments before she speaks again.
“May I ask you a question, Sir?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have any family?”
She had to ask that one, huh?
I decide to answer her question. “No, I’m an only child and my parents died 10 years ago.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry to bring it up.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t know. It was a long time ago.”
I take her by the hand and place a kiss on the back of it.
“Let’s keep walking, I have a surprise up here for you.”
Her eyes go wide like they always do when she’s nervous and I squeeze her hand gently to reassure her. We walk the rest of this row and turn left, then down the next row, then we make a right to put us in the dead center of the middle of the garden. When we get there, the picnic lunch that I had the kitchen staff put together is already waiting for us.
“Here we go, have a seat on the blanket and I’ll see what the chef prepared for us. Cheese, fruit, crackers, chicken, and wine.”
I call out the names of everything as I take them out of the basket. I grab the corkscrew and open the bottle of Pinot Grigio.
“Do you like wine?”
“I’ve never really been much of a drinker,” she replies.
“I’ll pour you a small glass, I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I check the basket to make sure that I didn’t miss anything.
“And that’s it,” I confirm.
Rosabelle giggles and it puts a smile on my face.
“Listen to you, giggling over there. What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Sir. It’s silly,” she answers and waves her hand, like that will actually make me drop it.
“Rosabelle. I asked you what you’re giggling about,” I use my stern voice to draw it out of her, even though I’m not really angry.
I immediately regret it because her gorgeous smile diminishes quickly.