Something She's Not Telling Us - Darcey Bell Page 0,4
the smell of flowers, living, dying, on the edge, even the chemical spice of the fungicide she sometimes has to use, though she tries to stay green.
Today Alma’s opened up the store and taken care of the deliveries and tended the flowers in the chilled space behind the wall of glass. Alma could run the business—maybe she will someday. She took over when Charlotte was in Mexico, and as far as Charlotte can tell, everything’s shipshape.
Everything, that is, but Alma, who’s been in tears—or on the edge of tears—for weeks, ever since her boyfriend left her for a twenty-one-year-old: a woman precisely half Alma’s age.
Charlotte’s feet hurt. She’d taken her shoes off in the cab going downtown to the shop from Hudson Yards. She might have liked to walk if she’d been smarter about footwear. They’re still a little puffy from the airplane ride from Mexico, and they swelled even more in the taxi. Just to get from the cab to the store, she had to stuff her feet back into the high heels.
Charlotte and Alma hug. She’s family. They’re always happy to see each other, even now, when so little makes Alma happy.
Alma says, “We’ve been selling tons of daffodils.” That happens every spring, and now the thought of the bright clumps of white and yellow remind Charlotte of how many springs she and Alma have spent in this shop. “I forwarded you that email about the benefit. How was the meeting?” She looks at her watch. “It couldn’t have taken very long. That’s not a good sign.”
“It’s postponed till this afternoon. Listen, if I get stuck, can you pick up Daisy . . .”
Several times, in semi-emergencies, when Charlotte has been held up, Alma has picked up Daisy. She’s on the pickup list at Daisy’s school.
Daisy loves it when Alma comes for her because Alma always takes her out for ice cream, which Charlotte only rarely does. No one can eat ice cream every day!
Alma mumbles so softly that Charlotte can hardly hear: “Therapy appointment.” She pulls away from Charlotte’s hug, and Charlotte sees tears on her face. Sometimes Alma sighs so loudly that their customers look alarmed, and often Charlotte catches her staring blankly into space.
“Never mind,” says Charlotte. “I’ll figure it out. I think Eli has a rehearsal, but maybe he can get out. Maybe I’ll be done in time. I’ll just have to play it by ear.”
Charlotte tries to sound relaxed, but she hates being late to pick up her daughter.
She hates the thought of Daisy nervously watching the doorway to the gym where they have the after-school program. More than anything, she hates the idea that Daisy might feel anxious. In fact Charlotte has never once got there to find Daisy watching the door. She’s always been busy doing the fun projects that the after-school teachers dream up.
Alma goes back to making a floral arrangement for a customer to send his wife for their fiftieth anniversary. Charlotte goes back to trying to call and text and email Eli, who keeps not answering. Maddening! She knows that Eli is having a hard time, but still . . . He is Daisy’s father.
A decade ago, Eli did so well—first in real estate for foreign investment firms, then buying and selling domain names—that he was able to retire from finance and do what he loves, which is working in the theater. Right now he’s the set designer/stage manager on a production of Macbeth, in a theater on the Lower East Side. Charlotte has to remind herself that he’s earned the right—that is, the money—to do what he loves.
There’s a crisis every day, and Eli’s usually right in the middle. Several times, he hasn’t taken her calls, and he and Charlotte argued about it. They have a child! Charlotte needs to reach him! He promised to do better, but he sometimes forgets his promises.
She texts Eli one more time, punching question marks into the phone. Again he doesn’t answer. Is something wrong? How many bad things can happen at once?
She sends another message: NEED YOU TO PICK UP DAISY.
Let Eli be okay. Let Eli be okay and she’ll never again pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to (or can’t) do. He already does so much.
Charlotte closes her eyes and seems to hear her therapist’s calming voice:
Don’t worry till something happens. Don’t imagine the worst. Don’t obsess about the past—and about things you can’t change.
Who else can she call? Rocco has been on Daisy’s pickup list ever