#040
“Can I buy some flowers?”
The woman, with half her body hidden under an oversized cardigan, smiled awkwardly with her disheveled hair and tired face with dark circles under her sunken eyes.
“Of course. Please come this way.”
The customer who had been standing near the entrance, hesitant to enter due to the tense atmosphere between Chu Gangmin and me, slowly walked toward the interior. Chu Gangmin, seemingly unaware that this was the right moment to leave, stood guard in front of the table in a defiant posture, then let out a few bitter laughs—”pff, pff”—at my words telling him to go well, before turning around. I really hate this. Should I close the shop? It seemed like a problem I needed to seriously consider.
The sound of the door opening and closing echoed, and Chu Gangmin’s figure disappeared from view. Even after he was gone, my anxiety didn’t easily subside. Was there ever a day I could close the shop? I don’t think there was. Weekends were especially difficult to close. Maybe I should close completely during weekdays and only open weekend mornings to make bouquets. My thoughts scattered in all directions.
“Excuse me…”
“Ah, yes. Yes, please come this way.”
“My child brought home some flowers…”
“Your child?”
At the mention of a child, her eyes curved gently. Just the thought of it seemed pleasant, creating fine wrinkles beside her closed eyes.
“About this tall, with hair like this—like someone put a bowl on his head. A boy.”
“Ah, ah…!”
I clasped my trembling hands together and recalled the child from the edge of my memory.
“That’s right. He said it was for his mother, so we picked out flowers together. Did you like them?”
“Very much. The hospital doesn’t allow flowers inside, but you packaged them so carefully that we could keep them in the room for one evening, and my child took them the next day.”
“That’s a relief. Right. I was worried they wouldn’t allow them in the hospital, so I did an extra layer of packaging. I’m glad it helped.”
My tense body gradually relaxed as I conversed with her.
“It was pretty. He said you told him this was the flower that resembled him.”
Her body, which had been standing somewhat distant, moved carefully. She approached with slow steps and pulled out a somewhat old-model smartphone, showing me a photo. Looking at the photo displayed on the phone placed on the table, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Ah.”
I had definitely mentioned an apricot-colored gerbera, but the child must have changed it to something that looked prettier to his eyes.
“It’s a phalaenopsis. The flower I mentioned was this gerbera here, only half visible.”
“Right? I thought so too, but my son said the flower shop hyung told him this one resembled him, and asked me to look closely. He said it was as pretty as himself.”
We both burst into laughter simultaneously. Her small, delicate laugh, resembling her, tickled my ears pleasantly.
“I was grateful that he bought me flowers thinking I might like them, so I wanted to buy flowers for him too.”
“The child would be happy.”
“I hope so… Do you think he’ll… like them?”
Her worried expression overlapped with that of the child from that day. The mother and son seemed different yet similar. The mother was having the exact same worry the child had.
“Your son had the same worry that day.”
“Pardon?”
“He asked, ‘Will mom like them?'”
“Ah…”
“How was it? Did you like them?”
At my question, she answered without the slightest hesitation that she did. She replied several times that of course she did, that of course she liked them.
“Don’t you think the child will like them just as much as you did that day? He came here and thought very hard about finding a flower that resembled him. He said his mom told him she liked flowers that resembled him. What was the flower that resembled the child?”
“…Azaleas. My pregnancy dream was also about azalea flowers. When the child was born, his cheeks and fingertips were so red, like they were stained with flower petals, even prettier than the flowers from my dream…”
She murmured as if tracing the shape of a dream. Throughout listening to her lovely and beautiful dream, the smile on my lips wouldn’t fade.
“So it was azaleas. I thought it might be forsythia. But hearing you speak, it does seem like azaleas.”
At my response, a lonely tinge appeared in her eyes that had been recalling the dream. Her pale complexion and thick jacket over hospital clothes showed clear signs of illness, no matter how positively I tried to view it.
“Actually… I don’t have… much time left.”
“……”
“Still, I’m the child’s mother… I want there to be good memories, but I feel bad because I only show him my pain every day. I’m afraid my son… my child will only remember me being sick until the end. I’m afraid he’ll remember me as a sick mother rather than a good mother.”
Her matter-of-fact confession made my chest feel heavy too. From her dry, cracked lips came the words that she wanted to give her child a flower that resembled him.
“Azaleas aren’t in season right now… do you want to give him azaleas?”
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then how about choosing from the flowers here? I’ve brought in quite a variety of flowers, and there are many pretty ones… I think a flower personally chosen by his mother would remain in the child’s heart longer.”
I stepped away from the table. When I stood in front of the showcase, she naturally moved as well, standing tall beside me.
“That one… how about that flower?”
“That yellow flower?”
“Yes. That one.”
“That’s called butterfly ranunculus. It got its name because it resembles a butterfly. Wait a moment. It’ll be even prettier if you see it directly.”
I opened the showcase and took out one flower. I placed it in her slender hands and picked out a few flowers that would look pretty mixed together.
“Actually, I thought gerberas suited the child. But looking now, butterfly ranunculus seems to match him much better. This flower comes in yellow, and although it’s lighter than azaleas, there are pink ones like this too. Here.”
I took out white pompom chrysanthemums and lisianthus while also pulling out another stem of pink butterfly ranunculus. Adding some shepherd’s purse and eucalyptus would be good too.
“Rather than mixing too many, I think this amount would be just right. How about it? We’ll add just a little of the other flowers and instead put in plenty of butterfly ranunculus.”
“Please do that. Use the yellow ones for this flower. But they’re really pretty. How can all the flowers be so beautiful.”
In front of her exclamations of admiration, I placed one stem of each type of flower going into the bouquet by category, then gathered the flowers to make the bouquet. She was busy examining each flower one by one.
“Do you have a favorite flower?”
“Um, no. I actually don’t know much about flowers. I only know the common ones I see around; all of these are unfamiliar to me.”
I looked at her gently smiling face and moved my hands. I gathered the stems well and filled in the gaps with chrysanthemums and lisianthus. Where green was needed, I appropriately mixed shepherd’s purse and eucalyptus, and wrapped the bouquet with overlapping white and pale yellow Claude paper. I made two loops each with yellow ribbon string, tying them into a butterfly-shaped ribbon bow, and offered to write a card just as I had for the child.
“I’ll write one.”
“Over there. It’s over there.”
I pointed to the organizer where cards were neatly arranged, and she nodded and headed toward the small side table.
“They’re arranged by type. Just take out whichever one you like and use it.”
At my words, she nodded and reached out her thin hand to carefully select a card. In the meantime, I also chose flowers. What would be appropriate to make as a complimentary service, I wondered, quickly scanning the showcase. What would be good—something not too burdensome or flashy. Throughout my flower selection, the scratching sound of pen on paper could be heard.
“Hmm…”
I took out pink carnations. Though it was a mini bouquet, once I decided on the main flower, selecting the others became easier. I quickly completed a small bouquet by adding matricaria, white ranunculus, and German statice.
After finishing the packaging with light beige Claude paper and tying it with a pink ribbon string, I placed them side by side just as she finished writing the card and shyly offered me the white card.
“Are you finished writing?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re taking this to the hospital too, shall I wrap it once more?”
“That would be so grateful. Actually, I was wondering whether to take it home… Could you put the card inside the flowers? So the child can read it when he gets home.”
“Yes, understood.”
She kept bowing her head in gratitude toward me as I took out transparent vinyl wrapping to cover the bouquet. It’s nothing special to me. Each time, I also bowed my head and replied, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I inserted the card into the bouquet for the child and carefully finished wrapping it with transparent packaging.
“It’s fortunate that the weather has gotten quite cold… flowers wilt quickly if kept in warm places.”
“Yes.”
“Both bouquets have oasis inserted, so if you just keep them in a cool place, they’ll last well through tonight.”
“Both?”
“This is complimentary service. A mini bouquet. I make them for everyone who comes here, so please don’t feel uncomfortable about it.”
Looking at the bouquets placed side by side, moisture briefly appeared in her eyes. Since she couldn’t reach her hands inside the neatly wrapped bouquets, only the sound of crumpling packaging could be heard. Her hands lingered longer on the mini bouquet I had made and given her than on the one she had chosen for the child.
“It’s carnations, right?”
“Yes, they’re carnations.”
“I thought they only came in red, but these are so lovely.”
She bit her lower lip tightly and only released it after a long moment before expressing her thanks.
“Thank you.”
“Not at all.”
Her dry hand went into her jacket pocket and immediately pulled out a card to hand to me.
“Fifty thousand won.”
“Are you giving me a discount?”
“No, the flowers used aren’t expensive ones.”
After entering the amount on the card reader and finishing the signature on the signing pad, she embraced the bouquets. After handing her the receipt and card side by side, I followed behind her at a slow pace to see her off. Seeing her thin wrists struggling to push the door, I reached out to open the entrance door for her, and she turned around awkwardly to thank me again.
“Thank you.”
“Please get home safely.”
“Thank you for this.”
“Next time, I’ll make you something even prettier.”
“…I should tell Yoon-u.”
So that little one’s name is Yoon-u. What a cute name. The round, chubby image matched so well with what I had seen that day.
“Come with Yoon-u.”
“…Thank you.”
She didn’t even say as empty words that she would come again. Ah, I regretted speaking so thoughtlessly.
Watching her figure walk away with big steps, I thought this winter would be particularly cold. Still, I hoped it wouldn’t be too cold for Yoon-u. Only after her retreating figure completely disappeared from view could I close the door.
“Too…”
Was late autumn on the verge of winter always this cold? I couldn’t remember well.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
