Parade Des Fleurs

8

Alistair sighed as he dumped the last pile of paper in the filing cabinet. He'd never though his part time job of taking orders on the phone, would lead to his weekends (and most of his after school afternoons)  being filled with obnoxious deliverymen, Alex's mindless babble, and paperwork. Lots of paperwork. The only thing he didn't seem to have to do was the accounts - although he suspected that his parent were ignoring that. But who would blame them? It wasn't as if orders were flooding in these days, and he'd noticed the worried looks on everyone's faces whenever he brought the accounts up, so he simply brushed it under the rug. It was the elephant in the room, people would only start acknowledging  it was there when it started making noise. 

Was being seventeen meant to be like this? Once upon a time he had though being seventeen meant focussing on uni applications, parties, meeting people, meeting girls, meeting guys. He had been ready for that, he'd prepared himself to step outside his comfort zone. As ironic as it sounded, he was ready to channel a little Sophie Oberlin, even when she'd left Glasgow. She left a few months after his sixteenth birthday, and he'd been distraught. Not that he'd even tell her, though. She was his best friend, before anything else - that had always been the agreement, and he knew how much Sophie wanted to play music. It was her life, and Alistair knew that he'd always come second to her violin - which he was fine with. It's what you got when you fell for a prodigy.  

When Sophie left, Alistair found that he had all this free time he didn't know what to do with. Previously, his days had been filled with forcing Sophie to actually do her coursework, or being dragged off to some random forest, or cooking for her. He loved to cook. He would have rather worked at Amadea's than the flower shop, but both his parents and Sophie's wanted to keep that place running themselves, and with no one to manage Parade des Fleurs, Alistair was the only other person who they didn't have to show the ropes. He guessed it was because her cafe was the only way his family could feel close to her, and there was no room for him in their grief. But when Sophie was gone, his days were empty, and so he filled that time with missing her, and managing the flower shop. But in the months leading up to his seventeenth birthday, Alistair became tired of missing Sophie. Finally, it didn't hurt to think about her anymore, and he decided that in his next year would be about himself - moving on, finding something he loved that wasn't Sophie Oberlin, something he could study. On top of that, he wondered whether he could meet someone else - not anything serious, he didn't want anything like what he'd had before, something lighter. Something new. 

But it seemed his parents had other plans. When he turned seventeen, he was going to ask his parents to look after their shop, instead of forcing him to do it - but when he went to their study, he could hear their parents talking, talking about how the cafe was doing so well, how they knew Amadea would be proud, and Alistair couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to be selfish like that. So he gave up on trying to break out of his shell - if he was meant to be stuck here, then so be it. 

Alistair slammed the metal drawer close, sighing as he glanced at the empty shop. I think I can take a break now. Alistair went into the back to make himself when he hear the back door swing open.

"Alex?"

"Hey, Alistair."

"Want some coffee?"

"Only if you mix it with hot chocolate. You should know this, Al! You've been slacking."

"Seriously, man? You're such a child."

"And you've been drinking black coffee since you were like, two, mister 'Anyone who drinks non- black coffee is a wuss' ."

"Uh, okay, right. I'm not even gonna ask where you drew that conclusion from. So, I'm assuming you helped Sophie with her bags? Did you grill her for the details of my very private life?"

"I didn't have to, that girl is an open book, as brash as she is."

"Really? Sophie? Are you sure you've got the right girl?"

"Red hair, rude, dressed inappropriately for the Scottish winter, kinda lively, almost as short as I am -"

"Yep."

"She's something else, that girl."

Alistair heard the click of the kettle finish boiling, and made their drinks. Leaning against the kitchen surface, he sipped the hot liquid, while Alex took his through to the shop.

"I'll cover the shop - you deserve a break, you've been up in here all morning. Besides, it's empty now -"

"It's always empty." Alistair said sadly, gazing down into the cup, his face reflected in the rich brown. Alex was only in on the weekend, which was the shop's busiest time. Besides those two days at the end of the week, the shop was usually empty - meaning the cash flow was merely a trickle. It worried Alistair, no, it scared him. He'd barely had time to mourn over Amadea - her funeral had been the only time he could allow himself to think about it. These days, between work and school, he felt like his brain had been crammed with documents, test dates, and flower deliveries. Sophie arriving had been a shock to the system, because she reminded Alistair of Amadea. It was more than he could bare - not that he could do anything about it. He never had a chance to tell anyone about how he was being pulled in so many directions, breaking him up inside. He considered opening up to Alex - maybe, telling him about just how badly the shop was doing would help.

"What was that?" Alex yelled from the till. 

"Oh, nothing." 

Better not worry him.

"Once you finished your coffee, Al, you should go see Miss Oberlin. She seemed pretty down - I don't know if you're as mad at her as she thinks, but you're not the only one hurting. I mean," His tone went serious, "You got to attend the funeral. She didn't, and I bet something pretty huge was keeping her back. So get over your pride and talk to her." 

Just as Alistair was about to protest, the phone rang. Alex picked it up, mouthing the word "go!" angrily, and so Alistair left through the back door.