Seasons Of Love ❤️

6. Lavender and a daisy tattoo

One morning, Mahir doesn't see Bela through the window as he passes by. He doesn't worry about it too much; he knows that Bela is probably out back designing floral arrangements or watering her flowers or catching up on bookkeeping or something. She doesn't just work the front counter all the time.

Mahir accepts that he will just have to say hello during lunch break.

-

Except, Bela isn't there at all when Mahir pushes through the door at midday. The bell tinkles overhead - a comforting and familiar sound - but Bela isn't standing behind the front counter; it's another woman instead, a new face that greets him with a dazzling smile.

"Hi there! Are you just 'stopping to smell the roses' or are you looking for something in particular?"

Mahir furrows his brows. "Actually I'm looking for Bela - is she around?"

"I'm sorry, she called this morning asked me to fill in for the day - she said she was coming down with something," the woman says sympathetically. "I'm Emma by the way - I help run the shop when Bela needs a hand. I will admit that I'm not as good as her when it comes to floral arrangements, but I do know my way around flowers. Is there anything I might be able to help you with?"

"Oh, uh- no, it's fine," Mahir says with a small smile. "I'll come back another day. Thanks, though."

He exits the store in a sightly more sombre mood and wonders when Bela became a part of his routine.

-

When Bela comes back to the shop after a week of being indisposed, Mahir rounds the counter and pulls her into a unsuspecting hug. He's sort of embarrassed at how desperate the action is, and how Bela initially freezes at the contact, but the girl soon thaws and melts into the embrace, and Mahir holds her just that little bit tighter.

Bela chuckles as she tucks her face into the crook of Mahir's neck.

"Did you miss me?" She mummers into Mahir's skin.

"Only a little." Mahir answers feebly.

Bela's laughter is loud and brash in his ear, but it manages to put a dampener on his humiliation at being caught in an obvious lie.

-

Mahir isn't really sure what he's doing here. He's meant to be with his family right now, but his feet have dragged his to this spot instead and he thinks that that's supposed to mean something.

He pushes through the door, faintly acknowledging the tinkling bell overhead, and walks to the front counter.

Bela takes one look at him and his red-rimmed eyes, before gently tugging his towards the small office space at the back of the store. Mahir is guided towards the tiny loveseat in the corner and told to sit, while Bela flutters about making hot chocolate.

Bela eventually approaches the loveseat with two mugs and offers one to Mahir, who takes it with a subdued smile. Bela sits beside him, her own mug in hand. They manage a few quiet sips without exchanging any words, before Bela breaks the silence.

"Would you prefer if I didn't ask."

Mahir contemplates his answer. Bela waits patiently, sipping from her mug.

"My grandma passed away," Mahir says after a long stretch of quiet. "Vish told me to take a few days off. I'm supposed to be heading to the funeral home right now, but I don't- I can't- ugh. I'm not ready to accept the fact that she's gone... not yet."

Bela says nothing for a while, seemingly mulling over her response.

"The life of the dead is always in the memory of the living," She finally says, tentatively placing her hand on Mahir's hand which was rested on his thigh. When Mahir doesn't push her away she squeezes it comfortingly. "Your grandma will never truly be gone, not if you don't want her to be."

Mahir appreciates the words, appreciates how Bela didn't just offer him an empty apology and that words are sincere. They continue to sip their hot chocolate in a comfortable silence before Mahir apologise and stands.

"I should get to the funeral home," he explains with a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sure my family is wondering where I am. But thank you for this, I appreciate this."

Bela nods and collects their mugs, depositing them on the desk. She leads Mahir back to the storefront. Before Mahir can leave, Bela asks him a question.

"What was her favourite colour? Your grandma, I mean."

"Purple," Mahir answers, brows furrowed in confusion.

Bela's eyes brighten and she holds up two fingers. "Give me two seconds, Okay? I'm gonna- I need to go out to the back room real quick. Don't leave yet!"

She comes back bearing a purple bouquet, interspersed with blossoms of white.

"For your grandmother," Bela says, offering them to Mahir. "It's mostly English lavender but I put a few common daisies in there to bring out the colour, since it's her favourite and all."

Mahir takes the bouquet with a grateful smile, but when he reaches for his wallet, Bela waves him off.

"Don't worry about it. Just take is as a gift from me."

As Mahir pulls open the door and steps one foot across the threshold, he pauses and looks back over his shoulder.

"My grandma would have loved you," Mahir tells Bela. He scrunches his nose at the wording and amends himself with a cough, "The flowers, I mean. She would have loved the flowers."

Bela smiles like she doesn't believe him, and Mahir blushes despite himself.

-

When Mahir visits Bela next, he notices Bela's gaze drop down to his wrist, where a sprig of lavender and a daisy are now tattooed.

"I thought about what you said, about my grandma never truly being gone, Mahir forwards his hand to show the tattoo properly how the stems are entwined together. "I always wanted to remember her, so.."

"You made a 'Permanent Record'?" Bela questions.

Mahir wrinkles his nose at the put but he hopes Bela can see the gratitude in his eyes.