Tracy pushed a broom around an already clean floor, trying to stay busy instead of obsessing on her email inbox. She had not heard from William after going out to for drinks and wondered if she had misread the signs? She actually believed he was attracted to her, but maybe he just likes to date? Maybe he dates several women at a time? It was his prerogative, she reminded herself. She would not waste her time thinking about someone who was indifferent towards her, although he did not seem that way last night? Then she remembered what that woman in the writing group had said, "When he talks to you, it feels like you are the only person in the room."
"The only person on Earth," another had added.
Tracy frowned at the memory and tried to occupy herself with work. It was still late summer, but wedding season would slow down and the holidays were busy in a different way. There were centerpieces and wreaths, a few Holiday weddings, and even her online-Etsy business selling handmade jewelry. Her tiny flowers suspended in resin had been a good source of additional income, but she wasn't sure she would even have time for that this year.
Of course she could teach the girls who worked the shop on the weekends, Linda and Rachel, how to make the jewelry. They were both college students and would appreciate a way to get more hours over the break. Yes, Rachel would especially enjoy making jewelry. There were also her regular customers; a few boutique hotels that kept fresh flowers in their lobbies, and of course the Catholic Church up the street, thanks to her grandmother's connections, Holy Trinity provided a steady flow of business throughout the year.
She returned to her desk and still no email from William, but a slew of internet orders to focus on. One was from a man named 'Mr. Moore' and he wanted to order an arrangement, no budget, but said the arrangement should not be audacious. He gave Tracy complete artistic freedom as well as his credit card number. The message said his assistant would pick up the flowers the following day, and please make sure the arrangement could be moved by taxi. Obviously another of Mrs. Hillson's dinner guests, and while she absolutely loved being given free rein on her creativity, Tracy felt she needed more information.
She emailed a reply, "I would be more than happy to create something beautiful for you. Could you offer guidance by giving me five adjectives describing the recipient?" Tracy had learned from Pierre never to assume a man was buying flowers for a woman.
There were two identical orders for a dozen red roses, the most common request, but she still tried to make them unique by including eucalyptus and an ivory bow. She checked her email again, still nothing from William. Ah, but Mr. R. Moore has replied with five adjectives. "Aesthetic, Prolific, Scintillating, Adroit, Stunning."
Wow
, Tracy though.
Mr. Moore has sent me to the dictionary with some impressive adjectives
. Tracy knew four of the words, just wanted to confirm their meaning. "Adroit," was a new one, which Tracy learned meant clever or skillful in using the hands or mind.
This one is challenging, in such a good way
, she thought to herself. Just the distraction she needed.
She texted Antonio special instructions, "Please search high and low for dahlias, black satin and tartan." She knew tartan dahlias were difficult to find and she could use something else if needed, but this was her first choice. Then Tracy looked over her inventory and texted Antonio again. "Gardenias too."
Just then her grandmother walked into the store. "Hello Nana!"
"Oh Tracy, must you?" Beverly grimaced, holding her hands over her ears in complaint over the alternative music Tracy was playing from the air. "What about the Vivaldi CDs I bought you? You're going to scare away your customers."
Tracy turned the music down and said, "Aw Nana, I do enjoy classical music, but I'm here by myself most of the day. Besides, most of my work is from the internet, not walk-ins. Hey, check out this interesting order that came through this morning."
Beverly listened as Tracy told her about the unusual request, wide-eyed and interested. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well," Tracy began gingerly, but quickly becoming animated and excited, "the flowers are for someone very artistic, so I am going to create my
piece de resistance
!" She threw her hands up in the air and Beverly smiled, her eyes widening with delight when Tracy showed her the sketch she had started.
"This is my chance to make something that has been in my head for a long time. No budget! Oh, I'm not going to stick it to him, don't worry, but I'm going to use this opportunity to make something extraordinary and post it on my website."
Beverly looked at the sketch and brought a hand to her heart, "So lovely, Tracy. I cannot wait to see the actual piece."
"I know Nana, I have been inspired by the adjectives!"
Beverly knew Tracy's habit of asking about the recipient and read the scratch paper Tracy handed her. "Ooooh, this is an exciting list. I have not heard 'adroit' in some time."
"I know, right? The recipient must be amazing. You know Nana, the arrangement could be for a man."
"Of course dear, a man buying another man flowers is always something to consider in our business."
"Well I am building a flower sculpture that would make any gay man melt. A skyscraper of flowers."
"A skyscraper?"
"Oh, a miniature, Nana. It has to fit in a taxi cab. Maybe I should have said sky-scraper-inspired! But it will be a modern, narrow, tall arrangement. It will be amazing!"
"You are inspired. I think I will leave you to your work." Beverly gave Tracy a hug and walked out to the door and left the store with a wave.
* * * * *
Andy lifted the television out of his trunk and carried it across the parking lot to the pawn shop. He had a computer and really didn't need a television, he told himself. And he could get it back as soon as he got a paycheck. He had sent out eighteen resumes that day, seven short of the quota he had set for himself. He was running out of places to send them. He would start back to the beginning of the list and also call each company to make sure they received them.
And then there was the agency, the one with the ridiculous commercial about temporary accounting jobs. He had a test with them in the morning, but the receptionist warned they were getting a lot of applicants.
The pawn shop offered one hundred and fifty for his flat screen television. Andy paid six hundred just a few months prior, but he was in no position to argue. "Got too many TV's anyway," the man said, reminding him he was not the only guy to find himself out of work lately. Andy rubbed his head and accepted the money. Might as well put it all in an envelope labelled "Vera," but he needed gas too.
William's reading was interrupted by Melissa asking "Is that the new up and coming author?"
"Hmmm, yes," William answered, trying to keep it short.
"Did you ask if I could read it?"
"Oh no, sorry Melissa. It completely slipped my mind." William did not consider this a lie. He had never contemplated asking Tracy if Melissa could read her writing. He reduced his screen and went to the Guggenheim website. He wanted to look at both the Guggenheim and Metropolitan sites and find an exhibit he could invite Tracy to. Melissa was still hovering about.
There was not anything new at the Guggenheim that William found enticing, but the Met had several choices, including an exhibit by Bartholomeus Spranger, entitled "Splendor and Eroticism in Imperial Prague." William smiled to himself thinking he could suggest the new Kadinsky exhibit, then steer her into the Spranger exhibit, hoping to inspire a conversation about erotic art.
