Brighter Than My Porch Light

Petals for Breakfast

What type of flowers does Jennie like? Oh, she likes anything colorful.

I decided to walk and head to the new flower shop around the block. I need to exercise, eat healthy food, and make an effective apology today. It's going to be a great day.

"What kind of flower presentation should I suggest? What color?" Circles in my head. "What type of flowers? How many?" My brain whispers questions but can't come up with answers.

I reached the shop, still clueless. The shop is enormous and colorful.

As I grabbed the shopping basket, a pretty lady with long brown hair, whom I assumed to be the shop owner, approached me, and said, "Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. Whatever catches your eye, put it in your basket."

Oh, hmmm, it could be a good apology note to Jennie: "Whatever you're planning, my answer is yes. Whatever you want, I'll give you the best."

Her name is Rosé. What a fitting name for a florist, Rosé. Her eyes sparkled as she introduced herself. She's wearing a long white dress with a brown vest.

I asked Rosé to arrange 28 roses and lilies in a massive vase. I heard it's one of the hardest flower arrangements since lilies are fragile. Jennie would be impressed.

While arranging the piece, Rosé started a conversation. "You're in that movie where a news anchor fell in love with a bloke." I nodded proudly; she recognized me. "You should have ended up with the female colleague, you got more chemistry."

I laughed while nodding, standing against the counter, watching her carefully arrange my items.

I explained that I proposed it to the director and writers. The two female characters have a stronger foundation to be together, but they rejected the idea, fearing the flow of the story will change. Of course, I did not buy their excuse.

I gazed at the pink peonies and two-toned tulips near the entrance, my eyes widened as it gave me a cool idea.

"I'm going to buy these buckets," I said firmly, pointing at every pink thing my central and peripheral vision could see.

"Dahlia, daffodils, and hydrangeas," I said, pointing at them and giving Rosé a warm smile.

"Oh girl, either you're bloody romantic or in really big trouble," Rosé teased, and I giggled. She was astonished, and I was excited.

She picked up the daffodil bucket and laid the stems down on the table. I helped her pick up the next bucket while befriending her and chatting about random things.

She enthusiastically arranged everything, and I suggested black ribbons and wrappers.

I asked her for ideas; she might have some creative suggestions none of my friends would have thought of.

Ah, yes, elegant looking. Black and pink.

She finished everything in 25 minutes, discussing our lives in this city and families, sharing how the memories of helping our parents with gardening and chores hold a particular place in our hearts and my new movie.

She assisted me in loading the things into my car.

"I hope you win the Best Actress award!" She exclaimed while lending me the receipt and dedication cards, giving me an angelic smile.

I hope so too. Jennie would be the one to present that award. It would be cute if I won, both of us on stage, celebrating my win.