Sequel: Memories Are Wonderful ›
The More You Chase It
Daisies and Lillies
December 22nd, 2010
[James]
I sat at the dinning room table, which was strange to think considering I didn’t have a real dinning room. There was just a large wooden table and a hanging light that could be seen from the kitchen but these things were really just part of an elongated living room. I sat in front of the bouqet of flowers on the table, sharpie in hand, staring at the large painting on the wall opposite to me. It was a masterful blend of navy blues and natural greens. The scene depicted some sail boats at a small dock. It was meant to “explore the simple shapes and lines of the scene as opposed to trying to present a photo-like representation”. I could hear Daisy’s voice saying the words as I thought them. It was so easy to remember her delivering it herself. I became a bit of a preferred customer by that point. It was my third purchase from the small gallery. Clara was a very talented artist but to be honest I kept buying because it gave me time with Daisy, and each piece I bought then forever reminded me of her. Each piece had a bit of our story. This painting even had one. I could remember it with ease. For once, that wasn’t a good thing.
I tapped the sharpie against the flat white of the card. There had been no response to the e-mail I had sent two days earlier but there was still time.
The bouquet in front of me wasn’t an attempt on my part to get Daisy to talk to me. I just couldn’t let her birthday pass by without me having got her something. I chose an arrangement of Daisies and Tiger lilies with sporadic Jasmine in the mix. They were all soft tones that complimented each other well. It seemed like a friendly combination. I wanted her to still see me as her friend if nothing else.
The sharpie rolled between my index finger and thumb. This little message would be even more crucial than the e-mail. It was my last chance. I probably shouldn’t have been looking at it that way. It was supposed to be a gift for her birthday and nothing more but I knew it still had the ability to make some sort of impact. And I also knew if there was no Thank You after this, then our friendship was really, truly, over for good.
Options ran through my mind.
Daisy,
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy the flowers.
Shitty.
Daisy,
You helped me ring in my birthday the second time we met. It was one of my favourite birthdays to date. The least I could do was get you some flowers. I hope they brighten up your day.
Shittier. God, why was this always so hard?
Daisy,
I was thinking, just because you’re not returning my calls, doesn’t mean I can’t get you flowers for your birthday.
Out of the options that I had come up with it was the least awful and the later it got I knew she was more likely to be out. I scrawled the message down on the card and signed it in my messy writing.
I grabbed the flowers, keys, coat, and hat and went outside to catch a cab.
The whole ride there I was nervous. I wasn’t planning on seeing her. I would just leave them on her doorstep. But still, even the thought of her familiar townhouse made me tense.
“Can you wait here? I’ll only be a minute.”
The cab driver nodded as I stepped out of the taxi. Her bedroom light was on in the house and I thought I saw movement as I made my way up the steps. I inhaled deeply and placed the flowers down in front of the door, under the cover of the frame. Then I rang the doorbell so she would come find them. I could hear it sound through the door. Then I heard her quick feet rush down the stairs and I took the queue to rush to the taxi. Before she opened the door the driver was already pulling away and as we drove off I peaked out the back window to see her pick up the flowers and read the little card. I didn’t look long enough to watch her reaction; I just stared forward as the taxi blended into the rest of the congested traffic, hoping she hadn't seen me.
[James]
I sat at the dinning room table, which was strange to think considering I didn’t have a real dinning room. There was just a large wooden table and a hanging light that could be seen from the kitchen but these things were really just part of an elongated living room. I sat in front of the bouqet of flowers on the table, sharpie in hand, staring at the large painting on the wall opposite to me. It was a masterful blend of navy blues and natural greens. The scene depicted some sail boats at a small dock. It was meant to “explore the simple shapes and lines of the scene as opposed to trying to present a photo-like representation”. I could hear Daisy’s voice saying the words as I thought them. It was so easy to remember her delivering it herself. I became a bit of a preferred customer by that point. It was my third purchase from the small gallery. Clara was a very talented artist but to be honest I kept buying because it gave me time with Daisy, and each piece I bought then forever reminded me of her. Each piece had a bit of our story. This painting even had one. I could remember it with ease. For once, that wasn’t a good thing.
I tapped the sharpie against the flat white of the card. There had been no response to the e-mail I had sent two days earlier but there was still time.
The bouquet in front of me wasn’t an attempt on my part to get Daisy to talk to me. I just couldn’t let her birthday pass by without me having got her something. I chose an arrangement of Daisies and Tiger lilies with sporadic Jasmine in the mix. They were all soft tones that complimented each other well. It seemed like a friendly combination. I wanted her to still see me as her friend if nothing else.
The sharpie rolled between my index finger and thumb. This little message would be even more crucial than the e-mail. It was my last chance. I probably shouldn’t have been looking at it that way. It was supposed to be a gift for her birthday and nothing more but I knew it still had the ability to make some sort of impact. And I also knew if there was no Thank You after this, then our friendship was really, truly, over for good.
Options ran through my mind.
Daisy,
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy the flowers.
Shitty.
Daisy,
You helped me ring in my birthday the second time we met. It was one of my favourite birthdays to date. The least I could do was get you some flowers. I hope they brighten up your day.
Shittier. God, why was this always so hard?
Daisy,
I was thinking, just because you’re not returning my calls, doesn’t mean I can’t get you flowers for your birthday.
Out of the options that I had come up with it was the least awful and the later it got I knew she was more likely to be out. I scrawled the message down on the card and signed it in my messy writing.
I grabbed the flowers, keys, coat, and hat and went outside to catch a cab.
The whole ride there I was nervous. I wasn’t planning on seeing her. I would just leave them on her doorstep. But still, even the thought of her familiar townhouse made me tense.
“Can you wait here? I’ll only be a minute.”
The cab driver nodded as I stepped out of the taxi. Her bedroom light was on in the house and I thought I saw movement as I made my way up the steps. I inhaled deeply and placed the flowers down in front of the door, under the cover of the frame. Then I rang the doorbell so she would come find them. I could hear it sound through the door. Then I heard her quick feet rush down the stairs and I took the queue to rush to the taxi. Before she opened the door the driver was already pulling away and as we drove off I peaked out the back window to see her pick up the flowers and read the little card. I didn’t look long enough to watch her reaction; I just stared forward as the taxi blended into the rest of the congested traffic, hoping she hadn't seen me.