Magic Lake

(3)

When school ended, I drove straight to our town's only flower shop. I go there every other two days to get fresh flowers for my room. They always made my room feel light and homey. Warm, almost. Every time my dad would come home and see all of my silver buckets of flowers he would tell me, "you know one day all of the flowers in the world would be gone; and it would be all your fault," pointing an accusing figure right at me.

I would roll my eyes at his accusations, but laugh also. I would tell him, "Mother Nature would never let that happen." Flowers are too essential to die out. He'd roll his eyes and laugh this time and head back to his house office to work on his cases.

I parallel parked my car along the sidewalk, right in front of the flower shop, and bounded my way into the shop. Ms. Vanderbilt, the flower shop owner, was in her signature hot pink rain boots and flower-splattered apron, putting out a new shipment of flowers when I walked in. She noticed me standing in the doorway and perked up. "Oh, Charlie!" She exclaims, gesturing me over. "Right on time. I just got a new shipment," she says, glancing at the flowers she just put out. "And your favorite ones too."

Ms. Vanderbilt is the only one who calls me Charlie. I don't know where she got the nickname from, for people just call me CK. But I don't mind. The name makes me feel special.

I clasp my hands together, excited. I loved it when she got freshly flowers. Especially when they were my favorite. I start to pick out handfuls of each kind, placing them in my silver buckets. The best thing about this shop - next to Ms. Vanderbilt, of course - are the prices. Depending on the flower, one bunch cost less than $4. Which is probably the reason why I come here so often.

"These are so lovely," I say to Ms. Vanderbilt, gushing at a pile of carnations. I took five of the light blue and pink ones, and placed them gently in my bucket. She smiles at me before helping a lady who needed a flower crown for her daughter's dance concert. I haven't worn a flower crown since I was a flower girl at my aunty's wedding. I was five at the time.

Maybe I should get one the next time I get the chance. Making a mental note, I moved to the next section, grabbing more flowers.

"You have the best job ever, Ms. Vanderbilt," I say, when the lady leaves. "I would love to spend all day, everyday, in flower shop like this."

She lets out a hardy laugh as she sits down at her stool. "It's satisfying to my soul to be able to spread the loveliness of the flowers with everyone." She smiles a smile that meets her twinkling eyes. I smile at her smile, by just feeling the happiness that she's feeling right now. I can only imagine how it must feel to help someone arrange a bouquet of flowers so they could give it to their significant other, or being able to be a part of someone else's wedding preparations. It just seems so much fun.

After paying, I thank Ms. Vanderbilt before leaving. Since it was Friday, I figured that I should visit my mom and David at their apartment. My parents divorced just a little after I started high school. Although I wasn't surprised when it happened, it doesn't mean I wasn't sad about it. They fought a lot. Almost every night. And, I could tell they weren't happy. But, now that they are separated, I can tell that it was the right decision. They are both really happy now. My mom remarried to David, and as a result, I also have a step brother, Elijah who is eight.

The drive to the apartment lasted about half an hour. They live in what we call the New York City of Crystal Falls. It consists of towering buildings on each corner you turned, a huge outlet mall that was impossible to get parking, and a bunch of small shops and food trucks lined up on the side. I didn't really like driving here, but seeing my mom was worth it.

Knocking on the door of their apartment building, I waited patiently as the sound of footsteps approached the door from the other side. The door swings open, and almost immediately, my mom engulfs me into a bear hug. I let out a laugh as I hug her back.

"How could you have possibly known it was me?" I ask her, as we step inside. "You would have been hugging a burglar for all you could have known."

She waves a dismissive hand, closing the door behind us. "It's called mother intuition, dear. You'll know when you have kids."

She's always saying stuff like this. Always dropping hints that she wants, expects to be a grandmother one day. The first time I heard her say something like this was when we were shopping at Macy's, and were looking in the baby clothes section. We were shopping for my Aunty Jane's new born at the time. She tells me, "I can't wait till we're doing this for your kids," as we were shuffling through a rack. I didn't know how to respond to that statement since I was only in seventh-grade, or whether or not she was kidding. But, the more she said things like this, I figured out that she wasn't.

"If, Mom. If," I tell her, emphasizing the 'if'. I love kids. I do. But, being as young as I am, I am not sure if I want kids of my own. I'd have to see how I am in the future. How financially and marital stable, I am. I'd have to see how I am in those aspects of life before making a life changing decision such as creating a family.

My mom only laughs as she settles herself at the kitchen counter, resuming her couponing. I situate myself on the couch about to scroll through my phone, when two arms engulf me. I let out a laugh, hugging Elijah back. "Hey, Ej," I greet. "What's up?" The nickname, Ej, was his idea. He liked the way people called me CK, but since his name isn't hyphenated like mine, Ej was the next best thing.

"I was feeling ebullient all day, waiting for you to come," he exclaims happily. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Ej. I went to the flower shop before coming. And was that a new word I heard?" I ask him, giving him a grin.

Elijah isn't like any other eight year old. He's top off his class, and very passionate in what he does. He learns new vocabulary words everyday, and tries to use it every chance he gets to. Until he learns a new one that is. One of the words he couldn't stop using for at least three days straight was serendipity. He said it so often, I even caught myself saying it to Kathy at school one day.

He lifts his chin proudly, "mhm. I actually learned two today, but I liked this one better."

I laugh, opening my mouth to say something when my mom beets me to it. "Are you going to the lacrosse game tonight?"

I turn my head to where my mom was still situated. "No, I never go to those things. You know that."

She rolls her eyes, sighing. "I know, but, CK, it's your senior year. Don't you think it's time for you to branch off and, I don't know...go out and do stuff?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I turn around in the couch, slumping as far into it as I could. As far as my mom's concerned, I do go out and do stuff. Just, not as often as she would like me to. The thing with my mom is that she was the popular girl in school. She was the girl who everyone wanted to be friends with; the one who all the guys wanted to be with. She'd go out every night - or so she told me. She just has to know that I'm not like her.