I stared after her in awe, wondering what on earth had just happened. I looked down at the bill she gave me; whoa, one hundred dollars! It was too much, but she was too far gone for me to chase after her. I simply tucked it in my wallet and finished my tasks for the day.
By the time I was done, I was almost late for my job at the diner. Waitressing was the only way for me to make a living. Yeah, I had the scholarship. But I needed other things, and I like having money in savings. But all through work, I kept thinking about Sasha. I never thought would meet her in person, but I was glad I did. It really took my mind off the day
I never left her bedside as she got worse and worse, then she was just gone. It always just replayed over and over in my head. But not today, well, it did until Sasha stopped by. I loved growing flowers to stay close to my mom, but now I can make it mean something. I can build something of it.
When I put that hundred dollars in my savings account after work, I imagined saving everything from my job as a waitress, and having enough to open my own flower shop with a greenhouse that didn’t belong to the school. I could make something out of what both my mother and I loved so much.
It seemed unachievable, I had no idea what I would need or what it would cost, but the seed was planted and I can never ignore those. I told Ivy, my best friend, to make it official.
“I thought you were going to be a botanist.” She said initially.
“I still can, but if I open up this flower shop. I know it will make my mother happy. And I think it will be good for me too.”
“I support you, whatever decision you make. But…”
“But what?” She was making that face she does when she is hiding something.
“You might want to enroll in some business classes.”
Chapter Three: Tristan
Vivian, was it for me. I couldn’t deal with that heartbreak again, it wasn’t possible. I hated feeling like this. I would rather be under a bunch of women who will not get attached. And I don’t have to go through that relationship bullshit again. I hated to say it, but Vivian destroyed my trust in women. Can you blame me? She was nice in the beginning, a sweet girl in school to become a massage therapist. She was kind, pretty, didn’t have much of a sense of humor but I didn’t mind that. She fit into my life, maybe that’s why I sort of settled. And she was pretty. The prettiest head of brown tresses, thin body from all her Pilates, and strong features. She looked good next to me in all the photos and interviews. As time went on, after we got married, she quit school. Decided she would be a housewife, nothing wrong with that, but we never had kids. She didn’t really do anything all day. And I was always working late. Maybe I bored her. There had to be something I did to deserve…
My doorbell went off and I knew it was Natalie. I was grateful she pulled me from my dark thoughts. I opened the door to my spitting image. Tall, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, strong jaw, and a love for Thai Food.
“You went to Thai Cottage?” I asked her.
“Hello to you too!” she yelled, shoving her way in. I shut the door behind her and offered a quick hug, which she turned into a full-on squeeze session.
“Hey, sis.”
She helped herself to the plates and cups. I got the food out, the smell hit me and I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. I was starved.
She got my favorites too; rice, vegetable spring rolls, pad thai, and steamed vegetables. We sat at my breakfast bar with the television from the kitchen on, of course she forced me to watch what she wanted. Some show about house wives in Oklahoma. But by the second episode, I was enjoying it.
“How is everything at the practice?” I asked about her for a change, and it wasn’t just to keep her from asking about me.
For the past few weeks, everyone has been asking about me, and frankly I was sick of it. I would much rather talk about what was going on with the rest of the family.
“Good. I have a lot of new patients coming in. I might be publishing another research paper soon.” She licked her fingers off from the sauce of the spring rolls. I hope she doesn’t eat this way around Kit.
“Oh, that’s great. About?”
She smiled to herself.
“How memories are tied to emotions and not the actual event. It’s developmental. I might only publish a thesis and then pass the research on.”
“Why do that?”
She tucked her legs under her. I’m surprised she can even move in that tight skirt.
“I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of time, and I’m not really built for research any more. Anyway, I’m still thinking about it.” I nodded in understanding.
“I’m thinking about starting another company, but I don’t know.”
“Why? Are you bored?” She nudged my shoulder and handed me a fortune cookie.
“Little bit. But this time I’d do it differently.”