Devonne Brown

“Take this to Eleanor, she needs these flowers for the windows,” said Rebecca. “Go on, we don’t have much time, she has to approve these before we can put them on the truck, hurry up.” 

“Wait, I need,” Rebecca cut him off.

“Just carry these birds of paradise and gardenias out to Eleanor so she can approve them for the windows, then put them on the truck. Come back and then we can talk about what you need. You were almost late anyway, hurry up,” Rebecca was fiddling with the begonias now, she’d dismissed Jackson.

Jackson picked up the bushel of blossoms. The birds of paradise were magnificent. Gold, blue, magenta heads nodded at him and the gardenias, creamy white with their scent, sweet from heaven, he felt oddly honored to be in their presence, but only needed a corsage. The gardenias would be nicer than the white roses he’d intended on purchasing. They were unusual. Wonder how a bird of paradise and a gardenia would look as a corsage?

He found Eleanor. “That lady over there said you had to approve these for the windows before they could go on the truck?” Jackson asked. 

“Sure, put them in the back beside the others. Now, the begonias, not the little ones, I need the ones in the pots on rollers with the big wings. Rebecca knows which ones I mean.” 

“Which one’s Rebecca?”

Eleanor looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Remember the lady who gave you the birds of paradise and gardenias? Her. Go get the begonias. There are six big pots on dollies. Hurry. We don’t have all day.”

Jackson didn’t know how to get out of his mess. He came to the flower shop to get a corsage for his mom’s birthday, why he felt obligated to help at this point he didn’t know, but these ladies couldn’t get six huge pots of begonias on the truck to save their lives. He sighed and resigned himself to shoving the wheeled giants into the back of the refrigerated truck, secured them, and then went to ask about a corsage once again. 

He liked what he saw on the waxy winged flowers too. The hanging red blossoms of the begonias, the gold, blue, and magenta of the bird of paradise, and the gardenia, as well as the smell, would make something beautiful for his mom. Now that the truck was loaded, he could ask one of the ladies. 

“Ok,” said Rebecca, “we’re ready, climb in and take us over to the Chapel, she said to Jackson.”

“No. Wait. I just came here to get a corsage for mom’s birthday. Can you make me one out of the birds of paradise, gardenias, and begonias?”

Eleanor and Rebecca both turned quite pale and their eyes were very large behind their glasses. “Well of course we can, but who are you, and where’s our helper?”

“I’m a customer. I don’t have a driver’s license, I’m fifteen,” said Jackson. He was embarrassed. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help, but can you help me?”