"Those are for me?" I was completely overwhelmed. It was like everything moved in slow motion. I took the flowers from him, softly touching his hands in the process. The spider ring caught my eye.
"I've never gotten flowers before. They're the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen."
"You must have a hundred boyfriends," he said, glancing down at his boots. "I can't believe they've never given you flowers."
"When I turned thirteen my grandmother sent me a bouquet of tulips in a plastic yellow pot." As dumb as it sounded, it was better than saying, "I've never gotten flowers from my hundred boyfriends, because I've never had one boyfriend!"
"Flowers from grandmothers are very special," he replied strangely.
"But why five?"
"One for every time I saw you."
"I had nothing to do with the spray paint--"
Creepy Man appeared. "Dinner is ready. Shall I put those in some water, miss?"
"Please," I said, though I didn't want to part with them.
"Thank you, Jameson," Alexander said. Alexander waited for me to exit the room first, straight out of a Cary Grant movie, but I was unsure which way to go.
"I thought you'd know the way," he teased. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Sure, anything." Wait a minute--anything? So I said, "Actually, water will be great!"
He returned a moment later with two crystal goblets. "I hope you're hungry."
"I'm always hungry," I flirted. "And you?"
"Rarely hungry," he said. "But always thirsty!"
He led me into the candlelit dining room, dominated by a long uncovered oak table set with ceramic plates and silver utensils. He pulled out my chair, then sat a million miles away at the other end of the table. The five wildflowers stood in a crystal vase blocking my view.
Creepy Man--I mean, Jameson--wheeled in a creaky cart and presented me with a basket of steamy rolls. He returned with crystal bowls filled with a greenish soup. Considering the number of courses, the slowness of Jameson's service and the length of the table, we were guaranteed to be here for months. But I didn't care, I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.
"It's Hungarian goulash," Alexander stated as I nervously stirred the pasty soup. I had no idea what--or who--was in it, and as Alexander and Jameson waited for my reaction, I realized I'd have to taste it.
"Yum!" I exclaimed, slurping down half a spoonful. It was way more delicious than any soup I'd ever eaten from a can, but one hundred times as spicy!
My tongue was on fire and I immediately chugged down my water. "I hope it's not too spicy," Alexander said.
"Spicy?" I gasped, my eyes bursting. "You've got to be joking!"
Alexander motioned for Jameson to bring more water. It seemed like an eternity, but he returned with a pitcher. Eventually I got my breath back. I didn't know what to ask Alexander, but I wanted to know everything about him.
I could tell Alexander had fewer friends than I. He seemed uncomfortable in his own skin.
"What do you do all day?" I inquired like a TV reporter breaking the ice.
"I wanted to know the same thing about you," he offered.
"I go to school. What do you do?"
"Sleep."
"You sleep?" This was major news! "Really?" I asked skeptically.
"Is there something wrong with that?" he said, awkwardly brushing his hair from his eyes.