Page 3 of Lovesick
The elderly lady ended up purchasing a vase, but no flowers. As I watched her slowly make her way out, I decided that wasn’t too strange. Plenty of people had flowers in their own yards and liked to pick them to display. I was glad to see a vase get purchased, though. We had only recently started stocking decorative pots and vases after my mother had signed a deal with a local pottery. So far, the decision was proving profitable for both parties, and soon our other shop in Rayne would offer them too.
The lady politely took a moment to hold open the door for my mother, who had just arrived. “Hi, Marty,” she greeted me. “How are things?” She walked straight to the register and dropped a folder on the counter out of sight of any customers who might walk in.
“Slow,” I told her, relinquishing the register. “It’s Mardi Gras, remember?”
“Good, that gives me a chance to get this done.” She patted the folder. “The van’s out back.”
“Got it. Thanks, Momma.” For the first few years, I had worked in the flower shop, I had been thoroughly confused about how to refer to my mother. “Momma” didn’t sound very professional, but that was who she was to me. She had raised me, and I knew her as Momma. Calling her anything else felt strange. I had never mentioned my dilemma to her, and eventually, I had just decided I didn’t care if customers gave me funny looks now and then. Momma she was, and Momma she would stay.
“Out back” referred to the back parking lot. The one with a gate across the entrance, where piles of wooden boxes, old planters, a trailer and a few other things we occasionally needed were stored. The vans were back here, too. We had two white delivery vehicles wrapped with colorful bouquets with the LaFleur Flowers logo on both sides.
Today I would use one to deliver boxes of carnations, roses, baby’s breath and a variety of vases to the hotel downtown. I remembered the order. It was fairly small for an event, and I betted that when I arrived the event planners would quickly make several small arrangements and set them on each table along with a bunch of Mardi Gras swag.
I checked the back of the van to make sure it was empty and ready for loading. Ordinarily, I would go to the nursery rather than using inventory from inside, but this order was small enough that I didn’t need to do that.
For a moment, I wondered if I might be able to convince my mother to close early so I could get away for drinks with friends. When I cast a glance at her, she was hard at work behind the counter, typing away at her laptop and perusing the financials.
Better not to ask.I’d get to the bar when I got there, and there would still be plenty of time to hang out with the guys.
A convertible rolled by out on the street, blaring music that wasn’t loud enough to drown out laughter from all four passengers in the car.On their way to the parade, no doubt.As I passed the back room on my way to grab the order, the fridge drew my gaze. What the hell, it was Mardi Gras. It was time to celebrate.Why shouldn’t I go ahead and start my celebration a little early?
I grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge and set it on the hood. As I carried the boxes, one-by-one to the back of the van, I downed a sip each time. After the last trip, I leaned against the front fender for a moment while I finished what was left in the bottle.
“Marty!”
I smacked my lips as my mother came up and handed me the work order. “I was coming back in to get it!” I protested, even though grabbing the work order so the customer could sign for the delivery had completely slipped my mind.
“Yeah, right. Don’t drink too much before you drive. Your father is already singing to the plants at the nursery, so you’re my guy right now.”
I snorted at the thought. My father’s habit of singing to the flowers when he was drunk amused the entire family, including my father, who maintained that they grew faster because of him. “Don’t worry. It’s just one beer.”Could be a couple more, though, if you would close a little early.
I knew better than to make the suggestion aloud. One downside of having posted hours of operation meant that customers could be confused and/or angry if the shop wasn’t open during those hours. My mother was too shrewd of a businesswoman to lose customers over something so easily avoidable.
“Let me know when you’re finished,” she told me. “I might have one more job for you. After that, you can drop the van off and go party with your friends. I can handle closing today.”
“No problem, Momma. Just let me know.” If she ended up needing me, I would gladly help. If not, well…I would definitely go down a few with my friends.
I stepped up into the driver seat and put the address listed on the order into my phone’s map app. Since it was Fat Tuesday, there were Mardi Gras parades all over town, so some roads would be closed. Of course, I had run lots of deliveries in the downtown area, and I could probably get to the hotel without the help of the app, but the last thing I wanted right now was to get turned around and mixed up by the road closures.
No sooner had I pulled out of the florist shop’s back parking lot and sped along my way than it became clear I had forgotten to consider something else in my calculations. Apparently, everyone and their mothers had done the same thing - with the result that every vehicle in Lafayette whose driver was using their phone to guide them was following the same detours.
I found myself trapped behind a dually pulling a trailer with a bulldozer. Idly, I moved my foot on the pedals to the beat of the stop and go traffic.Who the hell needs a bulldozer now… in the middle of town… today?I spent at least five more minutes behind the truck before I got my answer when its left blinker came on, and it turned off the road onto a construction site - but that didn’t make traffic move any faster.
What the hell.I turned up my music and settled into the seat. The traffic surged forward a bit, then slowed as I drove along the streets toward the heart of the city. Finally, two traffic lights ahead, I spotted the hotel. It took me another couple minutes to get there, then one more light cycle to turn left into the parking lot.
There can’t be this many people staying here…The front of the hotel seemed busy with vehicles dropping off and picking up guests. So, I didn’t want to just pull up to the curb like I normally would. Three adjacent spaces would be just fine and give me room to unload the order - except there weren’t any.
Oh,I realized as I watched a car zip into a spot between two large trucks; a careless maneuver they probably wouldn’t have dared if not for the parade.People are parking to walk over to the parade route.
Finally, I spotted my three spaces in the row ahead of me and to the left. I stopped at the stop sign just before the pedestrian crosswalk, glanced idly at the car approaching from the other direction and pulled forward.
A loud cracking of metal and plastic snapped over my music and the van shuddered like a wet dog as it came to an abrupt halt.
“Shit!”
I paused the music and glared down at the little car that had clearly failed to stop at the sign and smacked into my van. The two vehicles had bounced off each other, and I could see a couple inches of space between the fenders; enough to check the damage.
Just what I need…I put the van in park, jammed my baseball cap back into the position the crash had jolted it out of and opened the door. I could already hear my mother telling me off for being careless whether it was my fault or not.
