A Few Flowers

by Gail Sattler

  Cindy pushed everything to the side. “I guess it’s time for me to make dinner.”

  She had everything nearly ready and was about to dump the water out of the cooked noodles when the phone rang.

  “Hi, Cindy, it’s Monty. What are you doing?”

  She nearly dumped the noodles on the floor. “I’m making supper. How about you?”

  “I’m just finishing up at the office, and I was thinking of asking you to join me for dinner.”

  “You’re too late. I’ve already started cooking dinner for myself and my roommate.”

  “Oh. Is there any way I could convince you to join me?”

  Cindy didn’t need this. As much as she enjoyed his company, she couldn’t see him again other than the hike that she’d already committed herself to. “Sorry, Monty, not this time.”

  “When then? I’m free anytime you are. Tomorrow?”

  “No, not tomorrow.”

  “Friday?”

  Cindy squeezed her eyes shut. She definitely didn’t need this. Obviously she had led him to the wrong conclusion and now she needed to make her intentions clear. “Tell you what. I’m making lasagna, why don’t you come here? We can talk.”

  “Sounds great!” His enthusiasm almost made her choke. “I can be out of here in five minutes.”

  After giving him directions, she hung up the phone and continued assembling the lasagna. When she slid the pan into the oven, she went to tell Erin what she’d done.

  Erin was hanging up the phone. “I knew you were making a big lasagna, so I invited Troy.”

  Cindy slapped her hand to her forehead and groaned. “Monty phoned, and I have something to discuss with him, so I invited him, too. Now what?”

  Erin rested her hands on her hips. “Won’t there be enough to feed four?”

  Erin obviously had no concept of the amount of lasagna Troy could eat, a fact Cindy had learned the hard way. “I was going to make a salad, so I guess I’ll just make a bigger salad and some quick instant pudding for dessert. Do we have any of that spray whipped cream left?”

  Erin grinned and shook her head, which meant that Erin had used the rest of the can to make fancy coffees when Troy came over last night.

  Cindy hurried to add more volume to their meal and was nearly finished when a knock on the door stopped her.

  It was Monty, holding a paper bag with the logo of a nearby bakery. Unlike earlier in the day, he stood a couple of inches taller than she did.

  “I brought something extra for dinner,” he said as he looked down at her feet, which were cuddled up in her flat-soled bunny slippers. A frivolous item she never would have chosen by herself, they were a gift from Erin, a joke meant to take her down a peg or two after she accepted the lofty position of executive secretary. She wore them constantly because her feet were always cold in the drafty old house.

  Monty grinned. “Nice slippers.”

  Blushing, she took the bag from him. “I’d like to introduce you to my roommate and best friend, Erin.”

  He extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Erin,” he said cordially, nodding as their hands touched.

  No sooner had they closed the door, when another knock sounded. As soon as Erin opened the door, Troy sauntered past them and flopped down on the couch. “What a day!” When he spotted Monty, his eyes widened, and he stood. “Excuse me, I didn’t see you.”

  Monty walked to Troy and shook his hand while Cindy introduced them. The difference between the two of them was like night and day.

  In addition to Troy’s fair complexion, long wavy blond hair, and the bluest eyes Cindy had ever seen, his boyish grin nearly sent women into a swoon. As usual, Troy wore snug jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, and his damp hair showed that he had been home and showered before his arrival.

  In contrast to Troy’s height, Monty was barely average. His dark complexion matched his nearly black hair, which was meticulously cut and perfectly combed back. When he smiled, he radiated elegance and dignity. Monty still wore his tailored suit and tie, showing that he had just come from work.

  The timer on the stove dinged, so Cindy excused herself. Monty followed.

  Cindy reached into the cupboard for the plates. “I’m sorry, Monty. It appears that neither one of us knew the other had invited a guest.”

  “Not a problem. Can I set the table for you?”

  She pointed in the direction of the cutlery drawer. “Do you work late often?”

  “Yes. I like to work in peace and quiet after everyone is gone, and it’s not unusual for me to be there till midnight or later to finish up.”

  “Your card said you’re the systems manager. I don’t even know what it is you do.”

  “I write and manage various business programs, but I started out doing computer games. I still do some, but not as many as I used to.”

  “Computer games? You make money doing that?”

  He nodded. “I’m working on one right now about teenagers cleaning their rooms. The dust bunnies under the bed come equipped with laser cannons. The pile of clothes and dirty socks and other teen paraphernalia builds until it either destroys the room or it gets cleaned up. Which seldom happens, by the way, just like real life.”

  He gave her a mischievous grin. “I always give the staff a couple of hours to test the games for suggestions or improvements. The business programs are boring. They don’t offer to test those. That would mean work.”

  She couldn’t imagine the soft-spoken man in the pristine suit beside her making battle games about killer dust bunnies.

  Cindy pulled the lasagna out of the oven. “Can you call Erin and Troy?”

  Monty disappeared for a few seconds and came back alone, his cheeks slightly darkened. “They look like they’re busy, and I didn’t want to disturb them.”

  He remained in the kitchen while she scuffed into the living room, where Troy sat on the couch with Erin in his lap, locked together in a fervent kiss, heedless of the world around them. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, imagining what Monty must have thought.

  She marched back into the kitchen. “Cover your ears,” she grumbled. She sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “Suppertime!” at the top of her lungs.

  Monty and Cindy could hear the shuffling from the kitchen.

  “Nice touch,” Monty whispered.

  Red-faced, Erin and Troy entered the kitchen and quietly sat at the table. Already knowing the routine, Troy bowed his head while Erin led a prayer thanking God for their meal.

  Erin immediately started the conversation by griping about the traffic on the way home.

  Five

  Monty listened politely to Erin but watched Cindy. In the informal atmosphere of her own home, she was even more delightful than she had been at lunchtime. Her smoky gray eyes sparkled with laughter while she teased Erin as Erin continued to complain without missing a beat.

  At first, Erin’s boyfriend freely joined in with the banter, but when Erin commented on Monty’s car, Monty noted a change in him. He was silent so long, that both women froze and stared when Troy finally spoke again.

  “So that’s your Mercedes parked out front. I was wondering what a car like that was doing in this neighborhood.”

  Monty faced Troy. He’d noticed the status of the neighborhood when he pulled up. The houses were getting old, but most of the homes were in fairly decent condition, although a few yards looked a bit shabby and some of the homes could have used a fair amount of repair, not to mention a few coats of paint. While not completely run down, this was definitely a neighborhood for the less affluent. He suspected most of the occupants of the houses were elderly and had lived here most of their lives or were young couples with children, unable to afford anything better.

  “Looks new.” Troy glanced out the window, his eyes narrowed.

  Seeing Cindy’s humble home and meager furnishings, he didn’t want to make an issue of his expensive car. “Yes, I’ve only had it a couple of months.”

  Troy didn’t comment further, but
Monty felt Troy’s eyes almost burning into him. Monty didn’t want to feel selfconscious or have to worry about Erin’s boyfriend. He was there to get to know Cindy better.

  He turned to Cindy. “This lasagna is a real treat. It’s not very interesting cooking for one and by the time I get home, it’s the last thing I feel like doing. This is delicious. Thank you, Cindy.”

  “Why do you put in such long hours?” she asked.

  He shuffled in the chair, deliberately disregarding Troy. “I don’t know. I guess I have nothing better to do.” As he concentrated on Cindy’s face, he wondered if that was about to change.

  Troy lounged back in the chair, but his stony expression denied any impression of leisure. “What do you do for a living, Monty, that it keeps you working late so often?”

  Monty turned in the chair. While they were ordinary questions, something in Troy’s voice made him feel like he was being interviewed, although he didn’t know for what. “My job is kind of hard to describe. At the moment I’m preparing a project for Robert, Cindy’s boss.”

  Troy’s lips tightened. “Is that how you met Cindy?”

  Monty saw Cindy squirm in her chair. He didn’t want to discuss that night not so long ago, and Cindy didn’t look like she did, either. Besides, the first time he saw Cindy wasn’t exactly what he would term “meeting” her. “Yes, we met through Robert.”

  “How do you know Robert?”

  The questioning had just crossed over the line from interviewing to interrogation, and Monty didn’t like it. However, he didn’t want to show his irritation in front of Cindy. He wasn’t sure how to answer Troy’s question, nor did he figure he should have to.

  “Just through business. Why do you ask?”

  Troy’s brows knotted and he crossed his arms. “What kind of deal do you have cooking with Blackmore?”

  Monty crossed his arms as well and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t want to try to figure out what was going on or why Erin’s boyfriend was acting like a jerk. He wanted to put an end to Troy’s cross-examination and spend his time with Cindy.

  He put on his best business smile. “Hopefully I’ll be re-designing the computer networking system and reconfiguring the database.” Monty started contemplating reconfiguring Troy’s database.

  Troy eyed him up and down, his gaze lingering on Monty’s favorite tie. “In other words, you’re a computer geek.” He glanced out the window toward Monty’s car. “It figures.”

  Before Monty could respond, Cindy stood. “I think it’s time to clear the table.”

  Monty stood as well. “I’ll help you do the dishes.”

  At the mention of work, Troy and Erin disappeared into the living room and the television came on.

  Cindy and Monty chatted amicably for a short time, but after a short silence, Cindy spoke again. Her voice lowered, and she wouldn’t look at him. “I’m so sorry about Troy. He’s not normally like that.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  “I was wondering if he was your brother or something.”

  “I don’t have a brother.”

  “Do you have a sister then? Tell me about your family.”

  Cindy stared out the window above the kitchen sink. “I was an only child. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was young, so my grandmother raised me, and then she died when I was seventeen. I have no other relatives except for an aunt and uncle in Arizona. I send them a letter at Christmas.”

  “I’m sorry. If you were only seventeen, who did you stay with when your grandmother died?”

  “No one.” She scrubbed a dish far more than necessary and wouldn’t look at him. “I only had a few months until I reached legal age, so instead of going into a group home, some people from my church vouched for me and offered sponsorship. As soon as I reached legal age, I managed on my own.”

  His gut clenched. He knew what it was like to be young and alone, only he hadn’t had anyone to help him.

  “This duplex belonged to my grandmother. There wasn’t much money, so when I graduated from high school, I took the first job I could get. I’ve had a few tough breaks, but through God’s grace, everything is really coming together. I’m still not sure how I got this job, but I’m managing to save enough money to take a few night school courses in the fall so I can learn all I already should know.”

  She turned to him with such a big smile that the words he was about to speak caught in his throat.

  “I still don’t know what a systems manager does, but you’re obviously into computer programming. I guess you had to go to school for that, too.”

  Monty smiled. “Actually, yes, I’ve taken a few courses, but I made the title up. I started the company when I was twenty-two, and I had to think of something to encompass all that I did when I was a one-man show. Even though I’ve expanded, the title still fits.”

  Her smile dropped. “You own the company? How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-nine.”

  She plunged her hands back into the soapy water. “For only twenty-nine, you’re doing very well for yourself.”

  “Things haven’t always been this way. I come from what people in this end of town still call the wrong side of the tracks. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am.”

  “You’d get further if you didn’t spend so much on all those flowers.”

  “Not really.” He grinned.

  Cindy didn’t return his smile. “I’m being serious, you know.”

  He didn’t want to talk about stopping the flowers. Now he wanted to keep sending them more than ever. He couldn’t do much for her, but continuing to send her flowers showed her how special she was and that seemed like a good start.

  Monty reached to put a plate away in the cupboard. “We need to talk about our hike. I’m tied up this Saturday, and of course Sunday is church, but I’m free next Saturday. If we leave early, we can take our time, have lunch on the trail, then when we’re done, we can treat ourselves to a greasy burger and fries for dinner.”

  Finally, he managed to get a smile out of her. “I don’t know why that sounds good, but it does. Who’s driving? You may not want to take your nice new car on the gravel road.”

  “If you’re offering, sure, you can drive. Got a pen and paper? I’ll give you my address.”

  With her hands still immersed in the soapy water, Cindy nodded to her junk drawer. “My address book is in there, right on top. Just write it in.”

  Monty pulled the drawer open, laid her address book on the counter, pulled his glasses out of his pocket, and paged to the “S” section. “I see you already have my office number in here. I’m flattered.” He neatly wrote in his address and home phone number.

  Cindy studied the suds. “I took it off your business card,” she mumbled.

  When he finished writing his address in her book, Monty stood and returned his glasses to his pocket. “I’m afraid I’ve got to be heading home. I still have a lot of work to do before my meeting tomorrow morning, and I’m also working on an accounting program for a new client. I have to get it done while it’s fresh in my mind.”

  They walked out of the kitchen, through the living room, where Erin and Troy were on the couch, still smooching.

  Cindy retrieved Monty’s suit jacket from the closet. “Now if I could only get Troy to leave,” she whispered.

  “Does this happen often?”

  “No. Even though Erin has known Troy almost as long as I have, they only recently started dating.”

  Monty wondered if an earthquake would separate Erin and Troy, but he was grateful they were so engaged. This way he could say good night to Cindy at the door without interruption or distraction, or worse, knowing he was being watched.

  Before he left, Monty grasped her hands in his, then backed up a bit and craned his neck slightly backward, annoyed as never before by his lousy vision. “Good night, Cindy. Thank you for dinner, especially on short no
tice.”

  She smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

  Monty would have liked to kiss her good night, but they didn’t know each other well enough for that. Hopefully, however, that would soon change. He nodded and left, closing the door gently behind him, and walked out to his car, doing his best to minimize his constant limp.

  As he started the car, he wondered what kind of flowers he could send her tomorrow.

  ❧

  Cindy couldn’t help herself as she peeked through the blinds, watching Monty’s stilted walk to the car. Despite the knowledge that anything he felt for her was a misplaced sense of obligation, she couldn’t help but like him. She wondered if they had met any other way if things could have worked out between them.

  Part of her looked forward to their plans for some quiet time in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of crowds and business. Another part of her mentally kicked herself for getting so distracted that she hadn’t told him that seeing him again wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t want to think of what would happen when reality crashed in on him and he saw her for the person she really was. Plain, ordinary Cindy, the ex-forklift driver.

  She didn’t want to compare their lifestyles. She didn’t care what area of town he came from. The here-and-now was what mattered most, and now he owned a successful business, wore expensive clothes, and drove an expensive car. She didn’t want to guess at what kind of home he lived in. Most of all, he no doubt hung around with people who enjoyed the same social status, and that didn’t include her.

  She owned half a run-down duplex—only because she had inherited it. And the old place was mortgaged to the max because of all the financial trouble she’d been in for so long. What little furniture she had was old, and she drove a car that was in such poor condition that her mechanic planned his next vacation every time he saw her coming.

  Cindy continued to watch through the blinds until his tail lights disappeared around the corner. She was too mad to look at Troy, so she walked straight into her bedroom and shut the door.

  Since she couldn’t sleep, she pulled out her latest Heartsong Presents book and stretched out across the bed to lose her troubles in a story she knew would have a happy ending. She was just getting to the good part when a tap sounded on the door.