Forever Soul Ties Read online

  I held it up in the air and looked at it, mostly to mess with him. He laughed again as he shook his head a few times. I went to the register and got his change. He wrote on the floral card, then placed it into the plastic cardholder I’d placed in the arrangement.

  “Your change,” I said as I counted the money out into his hand.

  He stuck the money in one of his coat pockets. “Thank you.” He took my right hand. “And thanks for going to lunch with me today. I really enjoyed it.”

  “Yeah, it was nice. And thank you for buying.”

  He then leaned down before I knew what he was about to do, and softly planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Yeah,” I said, stunned that he’d just done what he did.

  He picked up the vase of flowers and smiled. “You really like these? You really think they’re nice?” he asked of the arrangement. “Really?”

  “Yes. Why? Is there something wrong? Something you don’t like?”

  He smiled. “Oh, no. I just wanted to be sure you liked them.” He held the vase out to me. “Because these... are for you.” He put the vase in my hands, then turned and walked away.

  “What?” I said as I stood there with the flowers. “Come back here. What do you mean these are for me?”

  He turned back around. “I mean . . . they’re for you.”

  “What? You don’t want them?” I tilted my head. “What are you saying?”

  “What are you saying?” he asked. “That you don’t want them?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just I’m not understanding what you’re saying. . . what you’re doing.”

  He came back and touched my hand. “These flowers . . . I bought for you.”

  “I can’t accept these.” I glanced down at the flowers. I’d done an extra special job with this arrangement. I’d put my best cut of flowers in there; put in more flowers than I even normally did. I looked back up at him with a quizzical look.

  “Well, they’re yours,” was all he said. He nodded, smiled, then strolled with his signature, back-in-the-day swag out the door.

  After he left, I looked at the card. It merely said, FOREVER.

  Chapter 6

  Upon this I awaked, and beheld; and my sleep was sweet unto me.

  —Jeremiah 31:26

  I opened my eyes and couldn’t help but smile. The vase of flowers was there on my nightstand. I couldn’t believe Ethan had done that. It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. I felt bad keeping the flowers; I know how special that arrangement had been when I made it, the extra love I’d put into it. I wanted his wife to be blown over by his gift, having no idea he was planning on giving that gift to me. I sat up and admired the flowers, hoping that people who received the flowers I made appreciated them the way I appreciated these.

  Zeke began to stir. “Hey,” he said, waking up. “You woke? Man, I’m tired.”

  I turned to look in his face. “Well, maybe if you didn’t stay out so late, you would get enough sleep and you wouldn’t be so tired in the mornings.”

  “Maybe if you could say something nice to me instead of nagging about everything I do, I’d stay at home more.”

  “Oh, so now you’re trying to say that I’m the reason you stay out all night?” I folded my arms.

  He let out a laugh as he cocked his head to one side. “So what did you do? Feel sorry for yourself and give yourself some flowers? Or is your little business not doing so well, just like I said it wouldn’t, and you decided to bring those flowers home with you instead of throwing them away like you probably have to end up doing with most of your stock these days. I told you people don’t buy enough flowers to justify anyone starting a florist shop, especially someone who had a good job already.”

  “Zeke, why can’t you be supportive of anything I do?”

  “I am supportive. I’m supportive of you getting up and fixing me some breakfast before I have to get up and go to work.” He sat up straight, pressing his back against the mahogany headboard. He closed his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

  “Well, I cooked dinner last night. If you’d been here, you could have eaten then.”

  “You don’t get home until almost seven each night.”

  “And that’s a problem how?”

  “That’s a problem because I’m here bored out of my mind. You know that I’m hyper. I need to be doing something,” Zeke said, his eyes fully opened now.

  “Then why don’t you cook? That will give you something to do and would help me out tremendously.”

  “Me? Cook?” He laughed. “Okay, apparently you’ve been smelling a bit too many fumes or something. You know it’s a woman’s job to cook for the family.”

  “And why is that? Who said it was a woman’s job?”

  Zeke looked at me. “My mother cooked for the six of us and she didn’t complain or wouldn’t have dared look to my father to cook. That’s what strong women do. They hold it down.”

  I looked him up and down. “So are you trying to say I’m not a strong woman?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He let his head go back again. “Listen, all I asked was for you to get up and fix my breakfast so I can get out of here and deal with these folks on this construction site. If you don’t want to cook me anything, then fine. I’ll just stop at McDonald’s or somewhere. Geez!”

  “Oh, no.” I got up. “I wouldn’t dare want you to think I’m shirking any of my duties as a wife. You want breakfast? I’ll fix you breakfast.”

  “Can you make me some eggs, grits, bacon, and toast? Oh, and make my eggs fried and not scrambled like you usually do. I like fried eggs.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I’m sorry, but this is not Burger King. You can’t have it your way.”

  “So, the flowers?” He nodded toward the vase. “You didn’t answer my question about them.” He then laughed one of his sinister laughs.

  I considered telling him the truth: that someone had given them to me. But then it hit me: he wouldn’t have believed me or even likely cared, so why bother.

  “Your breakfast will be ready soon.” I headed toward the bathroom.

  “Just what I thought,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But you need to be selling the flowers and not self-indulging. If you ask me, flowers are just a waste of money. That’s my opinion. They don’t live more than a week or two before you have to throw them out. That’s why I’ve never wasted money buying you flowers. But if you can find enough suckers out there to buy them, then God bless you. We can certainly use the money.”

  I turned around and started toward his side of the bed. “Zeke—” I stopped. “You know what?” I tapped my hand twice on my hip where I’d placed it.

  He grinned, loving that he always knew how to get me riled. “What?”

  “Forget you,” I said, spitting the words out and moving my head in sync with both words.

  He laughed. “No problem. Just hurry up with my breakfast,” he said. Then I heard him under his breath say, “Going to make me late for work. I shouldn’t have to ask anyway.”

  I refused to take the bait this morning. This is how he and I begin every morning. He finds something to criticize about me and I’m left mad and upset while he laughs. Well, this morning I was determined not to let him take me down that path.

  This morning, I awakened to a vase of beautiful flowers. For the first time in a long time, I slept well and I woke up to flowers that I didn’t have to give to myself. And there was no way I was going to allow even Zeke to take any of my joy from me.

  No way.

  Chapter 7

  See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise.

  —Ephesians 5:15

  It had been weeks since Ethan had given me the flowers. I hadn’t heard from him anymore, which was fine. I didn’t like the way I felt when I was around him. I mean I liked it, but it wasn’t good for me. After all these years, he still caused a fluttering to take place inside my stomac
h. It was like a whole flock of butterflies was in there, all trying to take flight at once.

  To keep in shape, I liked to walk. But since I’d started my business, I hadn’t had a lot of time or opportunity to do it. I could feel the effects of me not being able to do it. I didn’t have as much energy and I was putting on a few pounds. When I worked for the Social Security Administration, I walked during my lunchtime. And if I didn’t walk then, I’d go to the park after I came home from work. My girls loved going to the park. They would play on the jungle gym, slide, and swing while I walked. Sometimes I would meet up with a friend and we’d talk while we walked. I didn’t have a lot of those times though—walking with friends.

  After I left Social Security, I would go to the park in the morning before my class on floral arrangement. Honestly, I’ve been working with flowers since I was first married. In the beginning, I did it as a hobby—just one more thing for Zeke to make fun about when it came to me. After our three children were born (and with my full work schedule outside the home as well as inside), I just let my desire fall by the wayside. Besides, buying flowers (especially the ones I loved) was expensive, and I couldn’t grow all of the flowers the way I would have liked. Well, I could have, had Zeke been more cooperative about helping me. But he didn’t want to dig or help me do anything.

  There was just too much to do and not enough hours in one day to do it. My friend Danielle was quick to remind me that I wasn’t superwoman, so I needed to let go of the cape and quit trying to draw an S on my chest, especially when both of my hands were tied behind my back.

  Danielle had a way with words and making the point clear. She’s one of my friends who didn’t have a lot of time to walk with me, but she was a lot of fun to talk to whenever we did. Danielle had things going on in her own marriage. She believed her husband was cheating on her, although she couldn’t prove it. And as much as I talked about Zeke, her husband treated her a lot worse than Zeke ever did me. Zeke knew better than to put me down in front of other people. He could say all he wanted when we were in the privacy of our home, but not when others were around. That’s where I drew the line. He didn’t have but one time to make that mistake with me, and he’d already used it.

  It was a sunny morning in September, and I just wanted to walk. I’d started back walking a few weeks ago, after work when I closed. This particular morning, the flower shop wasn’t busy. With the exception of a few funerals that generated several orders at one time, and three nice-size weddings, so far I was only receiving sporadic orders. Nothing, at least at this point, that would even remotely justify me hiring anyone to work for me.

  I was thankful that I had the first year of rent free that came from me having signed a five-year lease for the building. There’s no way I would have been able to keep the doors open had it not been for that blessing. My hope was that things would pick up soon. I knew that Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day were two booming times for this type of business. I was just hoping I could hold on until those days rolled around and gave my company the boost it needed.

  So I laced up my white tennis shoes—not the ones I normally kept at work to work in when I was trying to be cute; the ones I’d bought specifically for walking. I felt I could be gone about thirty or forty minutes without anyone ever even missing me.

  Just as I was about to leave to drive over to the park, the shop’s phone rang. The caller ID read: A&D. My heart skipped a beat as I recalled that was where Ethan said he worked. Then again, it might not even be him. He had promised to send some business my way. Maybe this was just someone who worked there that he’d referred to me. I answered the phone, “The Painted Lady Flower Shop. How may I help you?”

  “Hi,” the male voice said with an obvious smile. My heart flipped; it was Ethan!

  I quietly exhaled so he wouldn’t be able to hear me do it. “Hi there,” I said.

  “Do you know who this is?” he asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “So what are you up to?”

  “Oh, not much. It’s kind of slow around here,” I said. “I’m sure you know how things can be sometimes.” I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t doing so great.

  “Yeah, it’s slow here today as well. In fact, they’re letting some of us take off early. They allow us to do that when it’s slow and they don’t need as many workers. They save money that way.”

  “That’s nice of them, especially if someone has something they want or need to do.”

  “Yeah. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to do something today. With me, that is. You know, have a chance to talk some more.” I could tell he was nervous.

  “Well, actually, I was just about to go walking . . . at the park.”

  “Seriously? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah,” I said, frowning. “Why are you saying it like that?”

  “Because I work out a lot and I would love to go walking with you.”

  I was a bit leery. That was a little too convenient for me. “I don’t know.”

  “What? You don’t know if we should walk together? Come on, you’re being silly now, don’t you think? You were going to go walking. I just so happen to have time off. What’s the harm in the two of us walking together? I mean two old friends . . . walking in a public park together . . .”

  I laughed. “You’re good at doing that.”

  “Good at what?”

  “You know: that ‘two old friends’ number you seem to give me.”

  “Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “And we are old, wouldn’t you agree?” He chuckled. “Hold up. I don’t mean old in the sense of old.”

  “But you’re right. We are both older now.”

  “Older, but not old. You and I can still hold our own. And honestly, you don’t look like you’ve aged a bit.”

  He made me smile. “Two old friends, huh?”

  “Yes. Two old friends, walking in the park, getting our exercise on, getting our hearts pumping.”

  I’m sure when he said that about our hearts, he was talking about the one that pumps and circulates blood. But when it came to me and him, it was obvious (to me anyway) that the other sense of our hearts—love—was more in jeopardy of being pumped. I know I knew it; I’m sure he must have, too.

  “Come on. Let’s do this,” he said. “Tell me which park you’re going to and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay,” I said. But since he was planning to be there, I decided it was best we meet in a park other than the one I normally patronized. I thought about a park I’d seen when I was passing through another area. It was close enough, maybe an extra five minutes away. When I mentioned the park’s name, he knew exactly where it was.

  “Are you leaving right now?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I’ll see you shortly,” he said.

  And as soon as I hung up, I felt I’d made another huge mistake in saying yes to Ethan . . . yet again. But for reasons I can’t fully explain, when it came to Ethan, it was just hard for me to say no.

  Chapter 8

  Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.

  —Ephesians 5:16

  “Wow, when you go walking, you’re really serious,” Ethan said when he came up to me. He gave me the once-over. “I mean, you don’t play.”

  I had changed out of my work clothes into a purple with gold trim jogging suit. Had I not been meeting Ethan, I would have done what I normally do and just worn my clothes. It’s just that, given what I remembered about Ethan from our earlier days, I figured he was likely a serious walker. And if he was, he was coming to the park to really work out. The last thing I needed was to sweat out my clothes and have to walk around in smelly clothes for the rest of the day. And the way my life goes, this would probably be the day when a bunch of folks decided to come into the shop to buy flowers, just because I’d sweated my clothes out.

  “What were you expecting?” I said, playing it off. “I knew you wo
uld most likely bring it. I decided this was the least I could do to keep up.”

  “Oh, so you thought I was going to bring it, huh?”

  “Yes.” I gave him my own once-over, mainly to return the favor he’d just done to me. Although I must say that he looked exceptionally good in his black jogging pants and that black (rather tight-fitting) spandex top. “It looks like I was right,” I said. “I can see that you came dressed to do some serious damage on this track.”

  “I told you that I work out. I have to. It’s important that I keep my body in shape in order for me to do what I do.” He began to do warm-up exercises.

  I looked at the things he was doing—stretches and lunges. “So you do all of that before you walk, just to walk?”

  “Yes. You need to loosen and warm up your muscles before you begin. It keeps injuries down during a workout.” He started doing more leg lunges.

  I did a few of the things he was doing just so I wouldn’t look like such a rookie. But I wasn’t planning on doing anything more than walking, possibly jogging a few yards, then back to my normal walking again. “Well, feel free to do what you normally do,” I said. “Don’t let me slow you down.”

  He smiled, then bounced a few times. “Oh, come on. Let me see how well you can keep up with me. I promise: I’ll take it easy on you.”

  “Oh, you’ll take it easy on me, huh?”

  “Yeah. Besides, it will allow us to talk while we do it.”

  “Talk? While we’re running or whatever it is you plan on doing?”

  “Yes . . . talk. Talking is a good way to gauge how well you’re doing. We should be able to do what we do and still hold a decent amount of conversation.”

  “All right,” I said with a smirk. “But I reserve the right to quit when my body tells me it’s done.”