A Single Daffodil

“Eeeeeeee!”

This was the sound Ronnie couldn’t stop emitting as she hugged me from behind, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

“Ronnie!” I laughed, pulling at her arms to lessen the grip. She was starting to choke me. “Quit that!”

“Never!” She squealed, rocking me side to side so drastically, I almost fell off the stool I was sitting on. “I’ve missed you far too much! Working here has been less entertaining without you around but now you’re back and you’re back a week early and now we get to have fun again and cut flowers together and we’re gonna eat Chipotle on our lunch breaks and we’re gonna drink coffee all day long! All day long!”

I laughed at Ronnie’s rambling, which was quickly followed by another round of ’Eeeee!’s.

I was technically scheduled to work at Jane’s Flower Shop after the first week of August, but I was so desperate to get back to my old life, I came back early. Sitting in the back room with Ronnie at the shop made me feel like everything was almost back to normal. It just felt really good to be back in a place that wasn’t tainted with change.

“Ronnie.” Maggie Rivers stood in the doorway of her office, placing both hands on her hips. “Quit suffocating my Vita! Work on that bouquet you started this morning.”

When Maggie walked back into her office, Ronnie dropped into the stool next to me, picking up a rose from the table in the process. “Ugh. Kill me, man. This bouquet order is just exhausting. Some hotshot sweet sixteener wants an epic bouquet that has every flower under the Goddamn sun.” She raised her voice a couple of octaves, putting her left hand to her ear and pretended to be on the phone. “‘Ahmagad, I want it to be like, really pretty, but diverse. Make it like, really colorful. And can you put a pink bow in there somewhere? I really like pink.’” Ronnie gave me a pointed look.

I laughed, pulling my stool closer to her and the bouquet. “Okay, okay. Let me have a look here.”

“Yes!” Ronnie let out a dramatic sigh of relief, pushing the massive vase closer to me. There was so much color in the bouquet, I almost went cross-eyed. “Work your magic, baby, work your magic!”

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as I assessed the mess of flowers in front of me. Don’t get me wrong, Ronnie was great at cutting flowers and arranging them into bouquets, but she specialized in bouquets that had similar color stories. Her bouquets always consisted of different flowers, but with the same colored hue. Judging by the mangled flowers of green, pink, and orange, I could see where she was having trouble.

I started pulling out the flowers that didn’t work and rearranged the purple carnations and asters so they could be the focal point. I paused every couple of seconds to evaluate the results. Ronnie, who was leaning over the table with a closed fist to her mouth, watched me work.

“If we move this over here, then these can look better on the outside.” I thought out loud, pulling the lavender to the sides.

“Yes, Vita!” Ronnie hummed, watching me in awe. “Harness that crazy and turn it into something beautiful!”

The now mangled bouquet looked a lot less nutty and a little more pretty. Now the different type of colors were easily fading into each other equally.

“It’s just about done, but it’s missing one thing.” I hopped off the stool and started walking towards the fridge. Daffodils. All it needed was daffodils.

“Hey so, here’s a question for ya,” Ronnie swiveled in her stool to watch me rummage through the fridge. “when do I get to hear about you and Harry?”

I bumped my head against the top shelf of the fridge.

“How do you know about that?” I stood up, rubbing the sore spot on my head.

Ronnie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. Nothing goes unnoticed in Harry Styles’s world. There were pictures of you and that Turdnugget all over Us Weekly the second you touched down on their sweet English soil.”

I pursed my lips. The only time I recalled paparazzi being around me and Harry was when we went to that French cafe that one afternoon. Apparently the UK version of paparazzi were a lot more coy about getting their pictures.

“I take it things went sour then?” Ronnie pressed.

“What gave it away? My perky demeanor?” I asked sarcastically before turning back to the fridge.

“Definitely.” Ronnie let out a surprised laugh. “So it’s that bad, huh?”

I sighed dramatically before standing up. I knew I couldn’t get by another work-shift with Ronnie on the clock until I filled her in about my life, so I leaned against the fridge door and quickly rehashed my less-than-epic run-in with Harry during my trip. I tried to keep a straight face while I talked about him, even though the mere thought of his face made me want to cry, vomit and scream at the same time. Ronnie held a very aggressive expression while I told her the story, keeping her lips pressed firmly together and preserving the narrowed eyes for the parts where Harry super sucked. After I told her about our trip to Saint Malo and what happened on the beach the day after, she practically lost her mind.

“Well! I could probably sit here and slander his name until the end of time but I won’t because whatever harsh thing I have to say about him, you’ve probably already thought.” Her expression softened and her crossed arms loosened. “Instead, I’ll ask you this: how’re you holding up?”

“Honestly?” I blew out a swoosh of air. “I’m a mess. When I can’t sleep late at night, I plan all these terrible things I’d like to say to his face if I ever saw him again. Just these truly nasty and horrendous things. And you wanna know what the worst part is? If I really did see him again, I wouldn’t say those horrible things. Because after all I’ve been through with that stupid boy, I’d still just want to tell him I miss him. After everything! Isn’t that so pathetic?”

“Not at all!” Ronnie countered immediately, waving me off with a hand. “That’s just what love is. It defies all logic. Never rational. Always inconvenient.”

“I’ll meet someone new, right?” The feeling of hope was somewhat uplifting. “Maybe I should stick to someone a little less…musically acclaimed?”

“Yeah, the death threats from ungratified tweens were getting a bit old anyway.” Ronnie smirked. “Pick an American this time, too.”

“A librarian perhaps?” I offered, grinning. “Starbucks barista? A snake milker?”

“Alright, I’m gonna have to stop you at snake milker.” Ronnie held up a hand. “Now you’re just spiraling out of control.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes before turning back to the fridge to grab the daffodils. But when I reached past the sunflowers and into the daffodils bucket, it was empty, which was weird because we get weekly shipments of fresh daffodils on Mondays. Today was Tuesday.

“Hey Ron, did we move the daffodils?” I asked, double checking the top shelf. “They’re not in here.”

“Oh, we haven’t received daffodils in like, forever.” Ronnie called behind me. “We talked to the vendors about it last week, but they’ve been out of them.”

“Really?” I turned around to give her a look. “That’s weird.”

Ronnie gave a blasé shrug as she picked at her nails. “Did you see the Apple Blossoms in there? We just got those in last night. They smell heavenly.”

I sighed, grabbing a couple of apple blossoms and walking back to the bouquet. I guess I’ll have to outsource the daffodils from other vendors sometime this week. Something rubbed me the wrong way about our store not having any.



It was only a little bit past noon when Maggie decided to send me home early. It was a slow day at the shop, and since there were no hotel rounds scheduled for another week, she sent me off with a flick of a wrist.

Back in my car, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, secured it with an elastic that clung to my wrist, and sat for a moment in the parking spot, wondering what my next move was. I immediately thought of meeting up with Jayden and Sophia for lunch but nipped that idea right in the bud when I realized they were both probably at the gym—freaking weirdos.

I snapped my fingers when I thought of something better. I smiled, shifting my car into reverse. I turned onto the main road, made a quick detour to the nearest gas station, picked up a huge fountain cup of Dr. Pepper, and headed towards the American Airlines arena.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Jack, my favorite security guard, greeted me cheerfully when I pulled up to the gate.

I grinned at Jack. “Is dad here?”

“What do you think?” Jack gave me a pointed look. “He’s been here since eight in the morning.”

“Typical.” I rolled my eyes. The team practice usually didn’t start until two o’clock on Tuesdays during the offseason, but in typical Eric Spoelstra fashion, he came in much earlier than everyone else.

When Jack opened the gates, I started pulling the car forward. Before I turned into the VIP parking lot, I stuck my head out to yell at Jack. “Say hi to Gladys for me!”

“Always!” He yelled back at me with a friendly wave.

I strolled through the back halls of the arena, taking considerate gulps of my massive Dr. Pepper while doing so. The arena was quiet, and predictably so, since the team and dad’s assistant coaches wouldn’t be here for another hour.

As I neared the offices, I heard the distant sounds of sneakers screeching, crowds roaring, and the oh-so-familiar sound of the swoosh of a basketball hoop. This only meant one thing: my dad was studying.

I knocked on my dad’s half-open door, which got me an automatic “Come in” response from dad. When I opened the door wider, my dad was sitting at his desk, his chair slightly turned towards the flat screen tv that sat on the wall beside him. As I walked in, I realized that it’d been years since I’ve been in his office. Nothing changed, of course. Papers were still scattered across his large oak desk, Championship trophies were on display near the window, and pictures of my 6th birthday party were still taped to the wall by his computer.

“Hey pops.” I announced, taking a look around the ol’ room.

My dad swiveled his chair around at the sound of my voice, looking surprised when he saw me standing in the doorway. “Vita! I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Maggie let me out early. Super dead at work.” I plopped down into one of the seats across from his desk, propping my feet up on the other empty seat beside me. I took another sip of my Dr. Pepper and jerked my chin towards the television. “Which game is this?”

He turned his chair back to the screen, leaning back. “Semi-finals against the Pacers. Game six.”

“Oh man.” I said, watching the Indiana Pacer’s Paul George steal the ball off Chris Bosh. He was like the Lebron James version of their team. “Is this the one that—”

“Almost lost us the Eastern Conference Finals?” He finished my question, nodding. “Sure is.”

“They completely annihilated our defense.” I pointed out.

My dad made a noise of agreement. “I’ve been working on new defensive plays all morning. ESPN ranked our team as the worst defensive team in the East on last night’s SportsNation.”

“Ouch.”

“Tell me about it.” He sighed, reaching up to massage his eyelids. “I have a lot of work to do with the guys today.”

It felt normal between me and my dad again—if not, better. After he came to my house and we had that argument, we spent an additional two hours working things out. I confessed that I was unhappy with how much time he didn’t spend with me. I brought up all the times he bailed on me and Grandpa Gene for special occasions, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, or our birthdays. I could tell my dad was upset by how little effort he was putting into family time. It was obvious that me straight out telling him was a wake up call. Honesty hour was exactly what we needed because he promised me he would try harder. Now all he had to do was deliver.

I watched my dad curiously as he analyzed the replay of the game. He looked worse for wear, to put it lightly. He had his reading glasses on, but they couldn’t cloak the dark circles under his eyes or the redness that peaked from underneath his eyelids.

“So, uh, riddle me this, Dad.” I say finally, chewing the top of my straw at the side of mouth. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘vacation’?”

He turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t get smart with me, Miss.”

I started to laugh. “I’m just saying! All you do is work. You just spent the past five years winning back-to-back titles for the team and you just finished coaching a team full of smug all-stars to win gold at Olympics. You know that happened less than a week ago, right? And now, you’re already working on the next season of basketball!”

I thought my dad was listening to me, but I stopped rambling off the reasons why he needed to take a break when I saw him staring at my drink.

“Don’t tell me that bucket with a straw is full of Dr. Pepper?” He pointed at my fountain drink in my lap.

“Well, now it’s only half full of Dr.Pepper.” I answered, shaking the cup. The ice rattled inside.

“Vita! You’re drinking sugar!” He exclaimed. “Do you know how badly that is for your health?”

“Okay, come on, enough with the health propaganda.” I rolled my eyes. “Were you even listening to me before?”

He sighed. “Yes, I was. I need a vacation. Maybe this coming Christmas, I’ll take one but right now, there’s too much to do. I’m already behind on a lot of things because of the Olympics. Which reminds me…” He snapped his fingers, sitting up straight and reaching for a stack of papers sitting near his computer. He started filing through them. “I have the upcoming events calendar for the arena.” He picked out the paper he wanted and slid it over to me. “If there’s any you want to go to, let me know. I already have my assistant set up seasonal tickets for you, Jayden and Sophia, but if you want, I can get him to leave tickets at Will Call too.”

“You’re the best!” I exclaimed with surprise, taking the paper. He never went out of his way to ask me. I was shocked.

I looked through the list, tapping the straw against my lips. “Well obviously, I want to go to the Gospel Crusade on the 18th, so put down two tickets for that.”

“Vita.” He said, but he was smiling. We both knew I never missed a moment to be sarcastic when opportunity strikes.

“WWE, Demi Lovato, Enrique Iglesias, Pitbull…” I continued to read down the list in a bored tone. I looked up at my dad briefly. “Honestly, who ok’d this list? We have a reputation to uphold, you know!”

When my dad rolled his eyes at me and went back to watching the foul that was called in the game, I went back to the list. I knew Sophia would want to go see Enrique Iglesias, despite the fact that I couldn’t stand him or his beautifully-sculptured Latino face. I guess I could put tickets on reserve for us, but I wasn’t sure what Jayden’s schedule was looking like. I knew he had to fly out to Los Angeles—

And there it was. On the events calendar. Two words. Like a cold day in August, I was not prepared for this.



I slowly placed the paper back on the desk, sliding it back over to my dad as goosebumps erupted onto my skin. My jaw tightened and my stomach curled into itself, forcing me to pull away from my soda.


“I didn’t even know y’all were in town!” I answered honestly, dropping into the empty spot between Liam and Zayn. “What the hell are you guys doing here, anyhow? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, doing rockstar things in a different country or something? Signing boobies? Kissing baby foreheads? Knocking champagne bottles against ships?”

“We’re off for the summer.” Zayn replied with a grin. “Our Fall American tour doesn’t start until August!”

I cringed. I completely forgot they were doing a tour in the States. Of course they were going to play in Miami, and at the American Airlines arena no less.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a vacation sooner than Christmas?” I offered weakly. I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling dry. “Perhaps at the end of the month maybe? August 23rd to the 24th? Just one weekend away to Mexico couldn’t hurt, right?”

My dad caught on to my sketchy attitude quickly. He picked up the event calendar and inspected it. “Why, what’s happening on the 23rd—oh. One Direction? Aren’t those your friends?”

I stared down at my drink, picking at the lid as I shook my head. Before I could stop myself, I thought of Harry’s smiling face when we were on the boat in Saint Malo. My heart started to sink.

“Do you want to talk about it?” My dad asked delicately, which was weird because my dad never said anything in a delicate voice. Everything that came out of his mouth was strict and/or an order.

“No.” I sighed, giving him a lazy shrug. “Just stupid boy stuff is all.”

“I figured.” He replied. “You and that one boy with all the hair are always on E! News.”

I looked up at him then, raising an eyebrow. Did I just hear that correctly. “Wait, what? You watch the E! channel?”

“Well if my daughter is gonna be on their news segment, you bet your ass I’m gonna check it out.”

“Dad.” I said, grinning. Maybe he wasn’t as apathetic about me as I thought. “You care!”

He rolled his eyes, crumpling up the calendar events paper and throwing it into the trash. “Of course I care. Don’t get so chummy about it.”

I laughed.

Before the conversation could continue, there was knock on the door. When I looked up, it was Chris, one of my dad’s assistant coaches.

“Hey! The fellas are down on the court.” He informed us.

“Alright.” My dad reached for the remote and turned off the television. “I’ll be down in a minute. Start them off on the shooting drills in the meantime. Did you get my e-mail this morning?”

“Sure did.” Chris replied. “See you down there.”

When Chris walked away, my dad stood up so I quickly followed suit.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it then.” I said, feeling disappointed. Spending time with my dad this afternoon was actually pretty refreshing. I liked us when we weren’t fighting.

My dad looked surprised. “You’re not coming to practice?”

Now it was my turn to look taken aback. “Oh! Really? I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to…”

“Nonsense.” My dad waved his hand at me before I could finish. He reached over to the other side of the desk and grabbed his keys and whistle. “The guys would love to see you. I know Lebron and the other two bozos want to see you, anyway. They’re pretty miffed you left London.”

“That doesn’t exactly compel me into wanting to see them, you know.” I followed my dad out of the office. “I’ve seen what happens when those three get angry at people, God rest their souls.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My dad laughed. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer into him as we walked. “Hey, you know what? If you really want to go to Mexico or somewhere else that weekend, we can make that happen.”

“Really?” I looked up at my dad, both surprised and delighted by his suggestion. “Do you mean it?”

He nodded. “We’ll figure something out. Obviously there’s no game or practice at the arena since…you know. I’ll make sure my schedule is clear.”

“You’re the best.” I grinned. I couldn’t believe how nice my dad was being. I could almost cry over it. Our relationship was finally getting the R & R it needed.

When we reached the inside of the arena, there was a ton of commotion. Several basketballs bouncing against the court, feet pounding, yelling, music playing, you name it. All the Heat players were dressed in their usual workout wear, jumping and laughing and shoving each other as they messed around on the court. It was the first time this summer the entire team was reunited. There was just something so enlightening to me when I saw all of them in one room again. It was the type of feeling you got when you’ve been away from home for a long time and when you’ve finally returned, your whole family are there, waiting for you.

“There you are, you little toad!” Lebron James was the first one to notice me and my dad walking into the arena. After he finished his jump-shot, he bolted right towards me. “You have some damn nerve showing your face around here!”

I squealed when he picked me up and spun me around. “Why am I a toad!?” I yelled. Why the hell was he calling me a toad? Lebron always came up with the weirdest names. “I didn’t do nothin’!”

I could hear my dad and the other players laughing as Lebron made a spectacle of our greeting. I clung onto my drink, praying it wouldn’t fall out of my hands. Or worse: spill.

But apparently there was something even worse than spilling my Dr. Pepper and that was Lebron snatching it from my kung-fu grip when he put me back down.

“Hey!” I griped, jumping up and down as I tried to make a grab for it. He put his hand on my face, holding me back with ease as he took a sip from it. I lost my mind when he did it. “You’re such a bully!”

“That’s what you get for disappearing on us back in London!” Dwayne Wade came up behind me, pulling me back from Lebron so he could put me in a chokehold. I started laughing when he made a ‘roar’ sound as he gave me a nuggie. “You didn’t even stay around to see us win the damn thing! I hope Coach grounded you for that!”

“Oh ha ha.” I laughed sarcastically, finally pushing Dwayne off me. “You’re all hilarious. Can I have my Dr. Pepper back now? I still haven’t forgiven you turds about that trick you pulled on me when you told me you found a place that sold them!”

Chris Bosh, who finally joined us, started laughing. “That was hilarious.”

“It was not!” I cried, trying to make a swipe at my drink again. Lebron held it above his head. It was a useless battle.

When my dad blew his whistle and called all the players towards him, Lebron handed Dwayne my Dr.Pepper. “Uh oh! We betta get over there!” Before I knew what was happening, Lebron ducked and lifted me up with one hand and threw me over his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

“Ugh!” I sighed dramatically as I watched Dwayne sip on the remainder of my Dr. Pepper behind us. I wasn’t here two minutes and I was already exhausted by their antics. Some people just never change. “Why do I even bother?”

“Because you love us!” Dwayne laughed.

That, unfortunately, was very much true.