Sugar Cane Chocolate: Faye and I

When Faye came back to help me close up the shop, I wasn’t sure whether or not I should tell her about him. She did notice the crumpled sunflowers, but she made no comment towards them. Isn’t that something though, someone gets me flowers when they have no idea the awful time I’m actually having. Okay not really awful, just not the best time. Everyone has rough spots in a relationship, happily ever after never really exists because the story never really ends.
    I quickly close down the register while Faye brings all the plants into the air room for over night. When she finishes, dusting her hands off before she pulls the apron over her head. She grabs a hold of my arm and escorts me out of the building. “Do you have time for coffee?” She asks and I nod quietly. I think she can tell I’m distracted, though I’m not sure she’s guessing it’s because of the flowers. She’s just making sure that I’m alright. I don’t tell her that I don’t like coffee because I really just want to talk. I’m probably the only writer alive who doesn’t drink coffee on a daily basis. Or rather at all actually.
    So after she locks up we head to the nearest diner where she buys us both dinner against my protests. I send my brother a quick text letting him know that I’ll be home in a little way, and my eyes glance over the latest notification that I got a text from my boyfriend. The name on the phone is Brian and it taunts me like nothing else. hesitantly I look at it and sigh.
    Our coffee arrives before our meals, but that’s just how it is. Drinks are easier to make than food. Brian’s text says something along the lines of, “Sorry about last night babe,” And he knows how much I hate being called babe. While I’m trying to not write anything back to him because I’m still angry I can hear Faye talking, and I look up. She realizes that I have no clue what she was saying, and her big brown eyes are disapproving. “Sorry,” I offer and stare back down at my phone sadly.
    “I asked you who got you those poor disheveled flowers, or if you just bought them for yourself.” She repeats herself, and I think about lying, saying that I did get them for myself, but at the simple age or 20 I’ve realized that lying to people is pointless. lying got me in a lot of trouble as a teenager with my mother, and Faye pretty much considers herself my mother. “Well?” She raises her brows at me. I’m never this distracted while we’re talking, even when I am having problems with Brian.
    “A man,” I start quickly, just to keep her at bay, “He got them for me.”
    Her eyes light up, and I’m not sure if lying would have been the better option now. “Oh?!” Her voice adapted a lilt just for the occasion, “What man? An admirer?” I want to just brush it off, but that’s not going to happen. Faye is the mom that wants to know everything about the men that float through your life. You know the type of mom I’m talking about. I feel bad for when her daughters are older.
    “No, I think this was just a one time thing,” I tell her absently while shrugging my shoulders, “He just came in for some flowers to brighten his house, and gave them to me instead. Nothing special about that.”
    She doesn’t agree with me though, and she throws her head back to laugh. “Listen, honey, there’s a reason men don’t want to be with me, it’s because I over think everything they do.” This isn’t the real reason, but I’m willing to go along with her. “No man just gives a girl flowers for no reason - I have this little book that tells you the romantic meanings behind flowers-” I scoff while burying my face in coffee, but she doesn’t catch it, “And if I recall, sunflowers mean something about devotion and happiness or adoration, while Queen Ann’s lace means that person sees you as a sort of sanctuary.”
    I can only stare at her blankly with my cup still to my lips, not drinking. This is ridiculous, “I picked the flowers out myself though,” I tell her and put my cup down as our meals are set down in front of us. She’s not satisfied by that and continues to go on about how this could be an important turn in my life. I’m not so sure about that as I turn to my cell again to reply to Brian’s text, and start to fork pieces of macaroni an cheese into my mouth.
    “Someone gave me flowers today,” I tell him, and almost instantly he replies, and we start texting back and forth while Faye and I now silently eat our food.
    “Someone who wasn’t me?”
    “Obviously Brian.”
    “Oh, well, I was thinking of getting you flowers, couldn’t remember if I actually did.”
    Typical, I’m amazed he even remembers we fought. “Nope, it wasn’t you, unless you hired tall, dark, and handsome to come into my work today to buy them for me.”
    “No that doesn’t sound like me.”
    No it doesn’t, I think, and I turn my head to look out the window. The sky is turning gray as if it’s about to storm, and I see a few rain drops hit the window. “It was a nice gesture though.”
    “Thank you.” He doesn’t realize I wasn’t talking about him, and I set my phone down to look up at Faye because I am so with him. She stares at my phone with her lips pursed.
    “I’m telling you, honey, men aren’t worth it.” She offers and pushes a fry into her mouth. I smile at her, and look out the window again. I’m shocked to see a hat, a fedora actually, covering that somewhat familiar face as it walk passed the diner. I stand quickly while I contemplate whether I should chase after it again, and nearly upset my coffee. “What? What is it?”
    I stand there a moment with my hands splayed out on the table, staring out the window. “Nothing,” I lie quietly, “Just thought I saw a friend, but it wasn’t them.”
    If he wants to see me again, he knows where to find me.