Andy
“MR. CONNOR, Mr. Connor.” That’s all I heard as the day came to a close.
Bridget ran around the classroom, making buzzing sounds with her lips. Jeff was in the corner rocking and crying over his brother’s baseball card that Jeff traded at lunch. A group of the other kids were dancing and singing cleanup time, but they weren’t cleaning a thing.
“Is it time to go home yet?” a voice whined.
“Eww! Mr. Connor, someone didn’t flush,” Mason called from the classroom bathroom.
Just one of those days. Staying up late to watch Kyle’s game didn’t help one bit. I don’t regret it. Kyle put on quite the show last night. His team won by thirty points. I just wish I’d gotten at least an hour or two more of sleep.
I swear the kids were feeding off my drained energy. By the end of the day, we were all climbing the walls needing to get out. Today I had one of those moments when I wished I would’ve gone into antiquing like I’d dreamed of in high school.
I push into the lobby of my building spent and ready to fall facedown into my bed. A nice glass of wine before passing out wouldn’t hurt either. I have a nice red I’ve been wanting to get into.
“Oh! Mr. Connor, sorry I almost missed you,” the doorman calls at my back.
I turn to find Jimmy rushing toward me with a large bouquet of roses in his arms. It’s a gorgeous arrangement of reds and whites in a tall glass vase, wrapped with a black satin sash. Jimmy seems to be struggling a little under the weight.
“Hey, Jimmy. Need some help?”
“No, no, I was going to bring these up to your place for you. I know you get in around this time. Got sidetracked by Mrs. Feltman in 5G. She’s hearing things in the closet again,” he whispers, rolling his eyes up to the sky with a shake of his head.
My brows pitch in confusion. Why would he be bringing these flowers to my place?
“These arrived for you about an hour ago. Maybe one of those moms at the school wanted to send you a special thank-you,” he says and winks.
I chuckle, reaching for the bouquet. Jimmy is in his midfifties. There’s no need for him to lug this upstairs for me. Just as I thought, it’s heavy.
“I’ll get the elevator for you and ride up. I can help you to your door before I go check on Mrs. Feltman,” Jimmy says, rushing around me for the elevator.
I nod. I’ll need the help juggling my briefcase and this massive bouquet. Today would be the day I decided to use the vintage case my sister give me, instead of my messenger bag. I should have taken my keys out.
My mind whirls. These can’t be from who I think they are. I refuse to make that assumption. Yet I don’t have anyone else that could be sending me roses. I mean, why would he?
Jimmy and I exit the elevator on my floor and head for my apartment. The vase gets heavier with each step. Not because of its size but because of the questions swirling in my brain.
“I can hold that while you fish out your keys,” Jimmy offers.
I grunt, handing the vase over. Shifting my briefcase in my hands, I dig my house keys out of my pants pocket. I get the door open, and Jimmy starts inside with the vase. Although I appreciate his helpfulness, he’s clearly being nosey. He wants to know who the flowers are from. I can see it in his eyes when he places the vase down on the table in my entryway.
“Thanks, Jimmy,” I say, holding the door open for him to leave out. “How did your wife like those tickets last week?”
“Oh, she wanted me to thank you again. I can’t stand that theater stuff, but she was over the moon. Nearly peed her pants when we got to go backstage to meet the actors. Thanks again,” he replies, starting for the door as he catches the hint.
“You’re welcome. Maybe I can get you some tickets for a game next time. Something more your speed.” I smile.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he says, but his eyes light up. “Excited for the season this year. Hoping the boys bring us a chip.”
“They’re looking good. We just might have a shot,” I reply.
“Tyson was looking good last night. If he keeps that up and the boys get behind him with some good defense, we should be A-OK.” Jimmy nods.
“Yeah, he sure was looking great last night.” I chuckle. “Have a good one, Jimmy.”
“You too, Mr. Connor. Enjoy the flowers,” he says, giving one more glance in their direction.
I close the door, drawing in a deep breath before I turn for the roses. I move toward them as if they’re poisonous. I tug the card free and flip it over. The small envelope is sealed shut.
“Ah, you couldn’t be nosey,” I mumble to myself, while laughing at Jimmy.
Prying the envelope open and pulling the card out, I read the message with shaky hands. The roses are from the one person I didn’t want to assume they were from. A smile takes over my face, as I read the message again. Brushing the initials at the bottom with my thumb, I bite my lip, reading it a third time.
Last night’s win was because of you. Thank you for being on my mind. Can’t wait to see you soon.
Thinking of you,
K.T.
I run my hand through my hair. Kyle is definitely showing himself to be in a league of his own. This is a first for me. I’ve never gotten flowers from someone I was involved with. I feel my cheeks blush.
Reaching for my cell in my pocket, I forget all about being tired. I think about calling, but I’m not sure if he can answer, so I send a text instead. My face hurts from grinning as I send off the text.
Me: Thank you for the flowers. This was very sweet of you.
I wait a few minutes for a reply. My shoulders sag a little when one doesn’t come. I know he’s a busy man or he could be resting. I suck up my selfish thoughts and start for the kitchen to make dinner.
I have salmon searing in a pan and a salad in the works when my phone pings. I put down the wine I’ve been sipping to snatch up my device. My smile returns when I see Kyle’s reply.
Kyle: Not as sweet as you taste.
I nearly choke. The butterflies in my belly take full flight. I feel his words like a caress. It’s almost as if I can hear them in my ear. I decide to go for it and play along.
Me: Is that a taste you remember?
Kyle: Now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind a reminder.
Me: Anytime. I’m just waiting on you.
I suck on my lip as I stare at my sent reply, palming my forehead when I see him replying back. I stop breathing waiting for his response. It seems to be taking longer for him to type. I seriously have to wonder who’s younger here.
Kyle: I’ll be back home for a hot second. Need to spend time with Mas but hoping I can get in some time with you.
Me: I’d like that.
Kyle: No promises. I’ll do what I can.
Me: No worries. I know you will.
Kyle: Going into a meeting. TTYL
Me: Okay. Later.
I go back to making dinner with a smile on my face. How quickly a day can turn around. I think I’ll head to the gym after this so I’m not staring at my phone waiting around for later.