Courageous Love - Jerry Cole Page 0,6
the flashlight’s beam.
“If you ever want to tell me that story,” his voice was barely louder than the breeze. “I’m here every night.”
“I’ll come back,” I said. I wanted to know more about this man who spent his time wandering around a graveyard at night and what it was like living right in the middle of it. I didn’t realize I had basically promised to spend more nights in a creepy graveyard before I was drifting off to sleep.
Chapter Four
I shuffled down the sidewalk holding a few pieces of paper to my chest. I was wearing pitifully boring black slacks, a white shirt, and a black blazer I had to borrow from Stacy making it a bit too tight on my shoulders. I had first come downstairs in bright orange shorts and a crop top but Stacy took one look at me and made me go back upstairs. I just wanted to see how she would react. If I had to suffer, so did she.
I was holding onto a stack of resumes that I had made, again with Stacy’s assistance. The twins probably thought it was smart to send her away with me but I’d truly be lost without her and they would have won before the first day here was even over.
So far, I had stopped by the post office where they took my resume but told me they weren’t “actively hiring” but “might consider me in the future”. The next place I went was one of the few restaurants in town. The owner was there and even offered me an interview. It failed miserably when he realized I didn’t have any knife skills to speak of as I had rarely ever used a knife in my whole life. He kindly, but promptly, told me his place wouldn’t be a good fit for me. The next few places I was planning to go were also restaurants and a coffee place so I just slashed them all off my list.
Eventually I made my way to an old brick building painted pastel pink with one of those striped awnings over the windows. Above the door hung a carefully handmade sign; it was faded with age and read: Daisy’s Daisies. The map, and all the flowers, made it obvious that this was a florist. I looked back at the graveyard that seemed to be visible no matter where in the town I was. They probably did good business.
I pushed open the door and was greeted by a little chime overhead. I was immediately overwhelmed by the pure smell of the place. It was filled with flowers, but it felt like all of them had started growing out of my nose. The lights were older and gave the room a yellowish-green tint. The floor was a pattern of yellow and pink tile and the walls were painted a light forest-y green. I quickly found the counter and found no trace of anyone except a single silver bell on the counter.
I didn’t wait much longer; I rang the bell.
“Coming!” I heard a singsong voice call from the other room.
A woman with bright pink hair, who was over a full foot shorter than me, and wearing an apron, rushed to the counter with leaves in her hair.
“Sorry welcome to Daisy’s Daisies where we have the flowers for you,” she said sweetly albeit out of breath. She looked a little younger than me, maybe fresh out of college age. Her apron was the same green color of the walls. She wasn’t wearing a name tag. “What can I get you?”
“A job?” I said. Might as well be direct.
She blinked twice. “You want to work...here?”
“If you are hiring,” I said, handing over a resume.
She set it down on the counter without looking at it. “You’re hired.”
It was my turn to blink in surprise. “Just like that? I thought there were more...steps.” Maybe Stacy lied to me and getting a job was just that easy.
“No more steps needed mister. I need all the help I can get. I can’t afford to be picky.” She seemed to notice the leaves in her hair in the reflection of the counter and began pulling them out without shame.
“Can I ask your name?”
She smiled. “Beth.”
“You’re not Daisy?”
She half-smiled, half-frowned. “That was my grandmother. And my mother. But she didn’t want me to have the same name because she hated it. So it’s just Beth.” She took a deep breath. “Sorry for oversharing but we have work to do mister.”
“I start now?”
“No time