#064
Despite it being my own house, I tiptoed across the living room on my toes. To prevent the disaster of Woo Dohwan waking up from the tiny sounds I made. Besides, I still hadn’t decided which of the two methods I’d thought of while showering to choose. My thoughts were leaning toward playing it off, but I still needed to postpone the moment of facing Woo Dohwan as much as possible.
I shook the wet hair with my hand and slipped my feet into my shoes.
“Ah, our door lock is really loud.”
An unexpected obstacle. Even when I closed the inner door tightly, the high mechanical sound rang out loudly, making me unnecessarily nervous. I glanced back repeatedly as I placed my hand on the door lock handle. Fortunately, Woo Dohwan seemed to still be sleeping as no sound came from inside.
When I pressed down the handle, a ding- rang out, the high and clear mechanical sound I’d expected. Startled by the familiar sound, I immediately pushed the door to create a gap and hurriedly squeezed through the entrance.
“I’m the homeowner, do I really need to go this far?”
The sound of the door lock locking was also loud, but since I’d already left the house, I didn’t have time to worry about that too. I repeatedly pressed the elevator button while leaning against the wall. Whether it was because the tension had been released or because I was tired, I kept yawning.
“Ah, I’m tired. My stomach hurts too.”
I stood on my tiptoes and tapped the floor before getting into the elevator that had just arrived. How many flowers are left? I need to check the showcase first and order flowers. I also need to order the flowers I promised to show Kim Yujin-ssi. I pressed the first floor button and closed my eyes while leaning against the wall. My stomach feels queasy. I’m just making a phone call sober, but I drank for no reason. I gently rubbed below my solar plexus and regretted it as usual, thinking I drink moderately.
I stared blankly at the electronic display showing the changing numbers, then suddenly checked the mirror. My condition was, well… I swept back my wet hair and carefully examined my face, which looked particularly haggard today. When Woo Dohwan wakes up, he’ll come down to the flower shop, but showing him this appearance is a bit… I wanted to face him with a decent face if possible. Right now my dark circles are deep and my complexion looks too pale. Should I wear a mask? And why are my lips so red and swollen-
“…Ah.”
My face instantly heated up. I covered my face with both hands and let out a groan. It would be strange if they weren’t swollen after doing all that. I touched the plumply swollen lips with my fingertips, then startled like I’d committed a crime when the elevator’s arrival notification sounded on the first floor, pulling my hand away. Even when I fanned my face with my hand to cool the heated face, the reddened face didn’t subside quickly.
***
Satisfied with the mask that covered more than half my face, I opened the flower shop door. I arranged the shelf decorations that I hadn’t been able to organize yesterday in an orderly fashion, and placed the flowers that had been damaged from the vase falling and being stepped on onto the table. Then I swept the floor where small flower buds and petals were scattered. I moved busily, sweeping and gathering the dust and leaves together to throw them in the trash.
I was looking around to see if there were more places to organize when I confirmed the cleanly arranged interior and stood in front of the table. Through the wide-open door for ventilation, I could see a man lightly stepping up the terrace.
“Can I buy flowers now? Did I come too early perhaps?”
I shook my head while greeting the customer who entered the shop while I was sorting through flowers. I put only the flowers in good condition in a separate vase and gave a slightly delayed response.
“Welcome. No, you’re not early. You can buy flowers.”
The customer who moved inside with relief at my answer was a man who looked quite young. Thirty-two, thirty-three? Or maybe thirty-five or thirty-six? I habitually estimated his age and thought of suitable flowers, then found myself examining his outfit quite closely. Most customers who come to the flower shop ask for flower recommendations, so this had become a habit from trying to grasp the atmosphere they gave off. Whether the accessories on their body were flashy or modest. From such things, I could guess the customer’s tendencies or preferences.
“Is there a specific flower you’re looking for?”
The man, whose attire reminded me more of mourning clothes than a business suit, looked extremely tired even at first glance. His under-eyes were reddish and his pupils had burst blood vessels, so when I glanced at him, his eyes looked exactly red. I watched the man approaching closer and closer, then glanced at the wide-open entrance.
I left the table, put the broom I’d left against the wall into the cleaning supplies box to organize it, and closed the entrance. The man followed my actions with his eyes before withdrawing his interest and looking into the showcase while making a raspy voice.
“…Chrysanthemums, ahem- I’m looking for chrysanthemums. Small buds…, and it would be good if they had some color besides white.”
“Chrysanthemums?”
“Yes.”
He roughly rubbed his rough-looking face with his hand and took a deep breath as if his chest felt stuffy. The expression of the man looking for chrysanthemums with a gloomy face was utterly dejected.
“Um… I don’t bring in that many varieties of chrysanthemums, so there aren’t many, but wait a moment.”
I opened the showcase and took out matricaria, white and yellow pompon small chrysanthemums, and blue cornflowers one by one and laid them out.
“This is all I have.”
When I showed him the chrysanthemums of different shapes and colors, the man’s expression contorted as if in pain. He reached out with a trembling hand to gently stroke the flower buds neatly placed on the table, then couldn’t hold back the tears that burst forth and shed tears, wetting his red-rimmed eyes.
“…Carnations…. Here, to go with the chrysanthemums, together, together…”
I moved to find the flower he pronounced while choked with tears. The man’s sobbing had grown thicker, and his crying was too loud to pretend not to notice, so I picked up the tissue box that was on the mini table and placed it in front of him. Then I stopped in front of the showcase.
“Do you have a specific color in mind? Carnations come in various colors these days.”
“Just… something that would go well with these.”
Pat pat- the sound of pulling tissues came. It seemed like he needed a little more time to calm down, so I didn’t speak and slowly scanned the showcase. Besides the pastel tones I brought in, that should be there… When I bent my waist slightly, I could see the vase with the carnations I was looking for at the very back of the showcase.
I opened the glass door and reached deep inside to take out a white spray carnation. I had deliberately brought in a neutral color to arrange with colorful flowers, but it hadn’t been used much because it didn’t catch my eye as much as expected.
When I handed the carnation, which was in particularly good condition with excellent water uptake, to the man, he nodded slightly instead of taking the flower.
“…That too. Thank you.”
“Should I include all the chrysanthemums?”
“That would be good. Please… include them all. But do all these chrysanthemums have names too?”
I pointed to each one and told him the names to the man who had calmed down much more than before.
“Of course. This is Dutch chrysanthemum, these round ones are pompon small chrysanthemums, and this blue one is cornflower.”
The man’s gaze lingered long on the cornflower. Blue chrysanthemums must seem quite unfamiliar.
“Should I leave out the blue one?”
“No. Please include it. The blue is unique and pretty…, pretty so I was looking at it. It doesn’t look like a chrysanthemum. The chrysanthemums I know have large buds and look obviously like chrysanthemums, but none of the ones here are like that. They’re just… pretty, so.”
The man who had been looking at the flowers raised his head to meet my eyes. He pressed his wet eye area with the back of his hand and calmed his breathing, then continued in a gentle voice.
“My wife bought flowers here before. She said the male owner explained the flowers well and made beautiful bouquets.”
“Ah, I see.”
The word ‘wife’ that came up in my conversation with the man briefly brought someone to mind. But I tried to ignore the thought that came up, thinking it couldn’t be. I wanted to vaguely believe that she, who had smiled sadly, wouldn’t have left her child alone and departed in such a cold season.
“…My son too. He’s just this tall, but he came here to buy flowers to give to his mom.”
But the added words “my son” made the woman with clear signs of illness and the round, adorable child appear vividly before my eyes like a drawing. The man’s hand stopped around his waist level. He smiled with tears streaming down his face, indicating about this height, and asked if I remembered.
“Yoon-u…. It’s Yoon-u, right? I remember.”
“……”
At the stammered name, the man nodded instead of answering and showed a bitter smile.
“…Ah.”
I remember the face that smiled, saying she didn’t want to be remembered looking sick, wearing loose hospital clothes and outerwear over her thin body. And the words that there wasn’t much time left.
“…Yoon-u said he wanted to give flowers to his mom. He said mom really liked them…. Since the child will be carrying it, I hope the bouquet won’t be too big.”
I unconsciously covered my mouth. The black suit, eyes with all the blood vessels burst, the complexion as if he hadn’t slept for two nights and days – I couldn’t not know what it meant.
“The carnations… the carnations I received from you, boss… he said they were so pretty. Thank you.”
“…No. No, not at all.”
I let out a groan involuntarily. I unconsciously let out a long sigh and opened the showcase to take out plenty of cornflowers. Then I took out pompon small chrysanthemums, matricaria, and white carnations, and finally added the pink carnations I had given her that day as I started trimming the stems.
Then suddenly my hands stopped.
“Back then… among the flowers you bought, there was a yellow flower. Would it be okay to mix that flower in too?”
The man, who couldn’t take his eyes off my hands making the bouquet, moved only his lips to make a quiet sound.
“…Yoon-u called it a butterfly flower…. Is that right?”
“That’s right. Butterfly ranunculus. Your wife said that flower resembled Yoon-u when she saw it.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
