Signs of Love: Spring

Chapter 3

"How do you know him, anyway?" Flynn asked Cynthia the next day.

"He bought a ticket to my first fundraiser for child cancer awareness and we talked. Every time I run something for the kids, I ask if he's interested and he always finds the money."

"He does?"

"Very big heart, you know."

Flynn groped for the counter stool and sagged onto it. Becky was a child cancer survivor. In high school, they'd held fundraisers to help finance her treatments. He'd been sixteen; Becky, thirteen.

Sorry, Flynn. I'll be sitting with my friends today.

He shut his eyes.

"I loved the roses you've been sending, Flynn, but could we mix it up? Maybe a spring-themed bouquet? You know, symbolize new beginnings?"

He opened his eyes to a haze of colorful flowers. A tender memory resurfaced of sitting in Becky's recovery room surrounded by a thousand gerberas because she'd said they were her favorite and the school had gotten every student to donate one . . .

"You sure he's not too young for you?"

Cynthia laughed. "How cheeky. What's fifteen years? It's fine if it's the other way around."

"Right." He swallowed.

"If you could deliver it in the next half hour, that'd be perfect."

"Right."

Again, he called Becky.

"You'll be fine. What is it about Jack that has you acting like this? You used to be friends."

"No, we weren't."

"Well, you acted like friends."

"Act being the keyword there."

"What happened?"

Flynn slumped on his stool, staring out toward the coffeehouse. Maybe if he told her, if he let it out . . .

"Flynn?" Her concern funneled into him and he cracked.

"He was captain of the football team. I was the boy who helped the caretaker tend the garden. I should have known it wasn't authentic."

"I remember the way he looked at you when he stayed for dinner. He visited me in the hospital. There was nothing fake about his interest."

"Trust me, there was. He visited you in hospital?"

"Um, yeah. All those gerberas? He and his football mates brought them in. I told you."

Flynn frowned across his store at the blue, pink, and yellow flowers. "You told me people from school dropped them off."

"I'm sure I said names, but you were distracted. Sad. Maybe you weren't listening."

Maybe he hadn't been. He'd been lost in his own emotions that day, slammed with guilt that he couldn't get over himself for his sister. He'd sat on the guest chair and stared at the colors until they blurred with his tears. "The day before he'd brushed me off when I suggested seeing a movie. I thought he was busy, so I suggested another day, and another day. It took me longer than it should have to realize he wasn't interested. I was dumb enough to ask what I'd done wrong."

"Oh, Flynn. You never said anything. What did he say?"

That it was a mistake to bet with his mates that he could turn Flynn into a jock. That he'd pay up and be done with it.

It'd been a blow, but somehow Flynn still hadn't believed it, and in the cafeteria, he'd walked up to Jack moving with his tray. Sorry, Flynn. I'll be sitting with my friends today.