Page 3 of Saffron and Secrets

Jonathan

I’m out of the shop, holding the large arrangement for Abigail. The flowers today differ from the ones last week. This weeks are nice except for the obnoxious white flowers sticking up so high. They’re hitting me in the face and pissing me off. And the smell is so strong I’ve felt my eyes tingle, my throat swell, and whatever the fuck these are, I’m going to insist he never orders them again. Otherwise, I’m paying for delivery personally.

As soon as I get in the car, I pull out my phone to text him.

Jonathan: Don’t buy these flowers again unless you want her to break up with you.

James: Why? What’s wrong with them?

Jonathan: They’re making me feel odd, like I’m having an allergic reaction.

James: (laughing emoji) Are you serious? What do they look like? Can you go back in and change them?

I furiously type back, ignoring my itchy eyes and throat.

Jonathan: Hell no! I’m not going back in. I don’t have time. I need to drop these off unless you want me to organize a delivery?

James: No, you need to take them. It’s okay. I just won’t order lilies again.

Jonathan: I don’t even want to know why you know the name of these god-awful flowers.

James: It’s called love, John, and the day you find it, you’ll know this shit matters to them. And you will do anything to put a smile on their face and make them feel special.

I scoff. That will never happen. He should know that.

Jonathan: I’ll take your word for it. I’ll text you when I’m back at the office.

I drop the phone down to the front seat and drive out of the parking spot. As I do, I blink rapidly spotting her. Those luscious hips move in tight jeans and wavy dark hair flowing in the breeze. I slow the car and smile as I see she’s holding her saffron flowers, and walking slightly faster compared to other people around her.

I frown and wonder if she’s late for something. Work? Maybe a partner?

Someone as pretty as her would be taken.

As I pass her, I can’t help but move my gaze to the rearview mirror, trying to get one final glimpse of her. When she is out of my sight, I concentrate on the road ahead as James’s words replay. What would it feel like to want to do all that sappy shit for a woman?

I shake off the ridiculous thought. I can’t even imagine it.

I'm back staring at the mirror when my phone rings. Tearing my gaze down to the screen, I groan at my mother’s name, and I don’t even hesitate when I hit the decline button. After I drop the flowers off to Abigail and get back in the car, I see a text from her.

Mom: Please call me.

I brush off her text because I don’t have time to speak to her right now. I have to quickly pick up James and take him to a meeting. But I know I can’t avoid her forever. We may have disagreed about my future, but they aren’t bad parents. They need to let me choose my path, not dictate every step of my life.

I’m not rebelling; I'm too old for that shit, but I don’t think money means you can tell me what to do. Hence why I got a job even when I have money—a lot of it and not just family money.

But working is something I enjoy doing, and being friends with James since I was young has meant I could help him and he understands me. I can open up to him and work for him without judgment.

After taking James to the meeting, I decide to call Mom back. Having it hanging over my head will not help me sleep tonight. Even if I train or have drinks with friends, I’ll still be wondering what she wanted.

I sit in the car with my eyes closed and the back of my head lying on the headrest as I try to calm my body and mind before I call her. When I’m ready, I sit up. Here goes nothing…

“There you are. Why are you avoiding me?” she rushes out angrily.

“I’m working, Mom.” I dismiss her question.

She tsks, and I clench my teeth together. I’m trying to calm my vibrating body down, ignoring the little voice in my head that wants to argue with her.

“It’s a silly job. When will you wake up and come back to work here, son?”

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