The Black Rose

Not afraid to be seen

Anna

                I found his signature black silk rose and a small leather bound journal, inscribed with the word Poetry on the cover, lying on my car. On the first page was the message: For my angelic poet. So I hadn’t scared him away after all. I was so afraid that he was going to disappear.

Everywhere I went today I saw him. When I watched the sun rise from my balcony this morning I saw his truck in the parking lot next door and I waved to him. While walking the aisles at the grocery store he seemed to be peaking around every corner, but the second he realized I had noticed him, he’d withdraw.

It appears as if he’s gotten braver since our meeting at Barnes & Nobles, but he still hasn’t made any physical contact. I almost feel like I would get more results if I did seek him out. Yet, every time I make a move towards him he retreats. So for now I’ll try to remain the docile unaware girl he wants me to be, because I really don’t want him to leave.

Tonight I must have dinner with my mother and for once I’m hoping he doesn’t follow me. I’m afraid he’ll see where I come from and realize I’m not worth his efforts. My family’s very rich and my mother hates that I’ve chosen to live, as she puts it, the poor life.

She thinks I’d be better off spending my days lounging around their house, living off their money instead of trying to stand on my own two feet and make something of my writing. Most people would rather have the world handed to them on a silver platter but I’d rather earn it. I think my mother’s real motive is that she doesn’t want her baby girl growing up and leaving her behind.

I meet my mother at OliveGardens; she’s exactly how I remembered her. She has short black hair, dark brown eyes and she’s wearing an expensive looking tan pants suit with brown high heels. She gives me a professional hug and then sits down, motioning for me to do the same.

“How have you been?” She asks in a rehearsed pleasant voice.

“I’ve been good, how are things at home?”

“The same, you should really come home sweetie or at least visit more often.”

Sighing, I look past my mother at the familiar figure who just sat down a few tables away. Today he’s wearing black suit pants and a green dress shirt. I wonder if he got all dressed up for me. How could he have known I was going out to dinner tonight?

“Whatever are you staring at Anna?” My mother glances over her shoulder at my stalker and he quickly looks back to his menu. “Oh honey,” she says, “He’s not good enough for you, why don’t you give that nice boy from the country club a call?” My stalker nearly chokes on his water.

 I roll my eyes and speak just loud enough for him to hear me, “I’m not interested in anyone from that world. They’re all so… plastic.” I see him chuckle a bit at my choice of words. “I’ll never understand you Anna.” my mother says as she studies her menu. I silently agree as I steal another glance of him.

The waiter takes our order and after a short while our food arrives. Once the waiter leaves us to our meal, my mother says, “I see you haven’t lost all your sense, they look expensive.” When I give her a blank stare she indicates the silver earrings and angel wing pendant I’m wearing. “They were a gift.” I reply matter-of-factly, “It would be rude not to wear them.”

“A gift?” My mother sounds shocked as if she can’t believe anyone would just give away expensive jewelry, “From whom?” I take a quick peak at my admirer and say “Someone special.” A smile lights up his face and my mother takes the hint in the finality of my words that the topic is not up for discussion.