The Flower Maker

Chapter One

The peel of the tiny bell was as dim as Rebecca's existence, an unremarkable life fraught with misgivings, sadness and inadequacies. But there was brightness, though fleeting it was.

The peel also marked Rebecca's first customer of the day.

'Why is your shop always cold, Rebecca?' The young man dressed in black said, giving a shiver as he walked in. 'I'm sure it's colder in here than it is out there.'

From behind her weathered counter, Rebecca copied the man's smile while delicately covering the scar on her cheek with her hand. She always had a smile for him, a smile she wanted to blossom into something more. But was what she wanted mirrored? 'Morning, Brian.'

'Good morning to you. You should really put the heat on. You'll catch a death of cold.'

'I can't afford to turn it on. My landlord would raise my rent.' A feeling of shame shot through Rebecca. Her lack of money clung to her like a parasite sucking out her esteem. And a question popped in her mind, a question that always slithered its way into her thoughts. Why wasn't she better?

'You need to find another landlord.'

'Everywhere is too expensive.'

Three steps is all it took for Brian to reach the counter. 'You are right there. Now, Mr Fowler has asked me to come over and buy some flowers for the funeral parlor.' Mr Fowler was the undertaker of the neighborhood and Brian was his assistant. 'His are beginning to get ratty. And the cheaper the better.'

'Isn't it always.' Slowly and timidly, Rebecca dropped her hand from her scarred cheek, blushing from her insecurities and for her feelings. 

'Any new creations?'

Rebecca reached down below the counter and pulled out a bouquet of 'mums of various colors made from cloth. To her, it was as if clouds had suddenly vanished at night, revealing a burst of the most brilliant and noblest stars. It was as if she was watching ballerinas swirling around and around, flaring their tutus with astonishing pride.

'They look beautiful. I'll take them.'

The two met each others' eyes and Rebecca's heart fluttered. Was there something there, she wondered? Or was it pity? She bowed her head ever so slightly and turned her scar away.

'I'll wrap them up.'

A tip of his cap concluded Brian's visit and he departed, leaving a chasm in the pit of Rebecca's stomach. She so desperately wanted him to return. She wanted to tell him what she felt for him. But she was afraid. Afraid of rejection, of being ridiculed. A ridicule that could reach far and wide by her next visitors.