Flowers from 1970

Chapter 17: you were my flower

Chapter 17: you were my flower

The flowers were fine, George thought.

He had gone outside and noticed the Calendulas slowly blooming, and a sense of relief took over his body knowing he wasn't a complete screw up at gardening. He made a mental note to tell Dream about it later tonight.

Then he remembered: Dream had not called in the past week.

The first night he was worried but understood that sometimes Dream got caught up in things, and he'd apologize for forgetting to call the next day, but that was not the case. It happened two, then three more times until George was starting to get worried.

His mind filled with things that could have happened, all negative. The worst scenario being that the reason Dream had not visited him in 2020 was because he had lost his life before then, maybe in 1970. He shook these thoughts from his head and tried to think of the positive, like the flowers finally growing.

He walked back into his house and bedroom, trying not to meet eyes with the telephone because he'd only get worried again. Instead, he reached for his cellphone charging on the desk and saw he had missed texts. He unlocked his phone to read them, they were from Wilbur.

Wilbur:George, good morning
Don't worry I'm not asking you to babysit Tommy again haha
I actually wanted to see if you'd like to come to dinner tonight?
The last seat was actually reserved for my father, but you know he's at the hospital
nonetheless he insisted someone fill his seat as he didn't want it to go to waste

George had not been out to a proper dinner since he lived with his family in England. The ones he had been to had been strictly business related with colleagues, with the talk being mainly about work, so he didn't count those.

George:Are you sure your father doesn't mind?

Wilbur's typing bubble appeared right away.

WilburWell, he insisted Lol, so I'd assume not

George:I'd like that, then
When and where?

Wilbur:6:30 at The Minx, better to get there at 6

George's eyes widened, The Minx had been the priciest restaurant in town. Even the wealthiest of people George knew lived here couldn't afford eating there more than once or twice a year.

George:I'll be there

Wilbur:FYI there's a dress code
If you need a suit or anything let me know

George:I'm pretty sure I could dig one up out of my closet
Thank you again Wilbur

Wilbur:Don't sweat it, mate
See you there

George locked his phone and started to overthink. He calculated how long it would probably take to eat dinner there if it started at 6:30, maybe even later if it included waiting for the food. He definitely would not make it back to his house by eight o' clock when Dream would call.

As much as it hurt him, he hoped Dream wouldn't call. At least not on the one night that wasn't at home awaiting it.

He couldn't bring himself to decline Wilbur's offer. Reserving a seat at The Minx required a payment itself, and Wilbur's father himself (who was horribly sick) had said he did not want his seat going to waste. There was no way to say no to Wilbur without it paining him.

So, he threw clothes out of his closet one by one until he found a suit that was in tact enough to wear. He ironed it out until not a fold could be seen, and dug into his drawer for a tie that went with it.

It was a black suit, with a small chain hanging from the front pocket. He paired it with a white collared button up and black trousers with a belt. He had been to scared to wear it until the very last minute he had to go, as he was clumsy and just knew he'd spill something on it or damage it any other way.