Floral Fancies
The phone rang early on Saturday morning.
Liz, can you imagine? Beth’s voice rang out so shrilly it nearly vibrated down the line. I sent him three texts yesterday! Three! He replied ok to two of them, but the third he just ignored. I waited half an hour, just sitting there. Turns out hed just gone to sleep! Asleep, Liz! Can you believe it?
Liz took a contented bite of her toast, sipped her tea, and replied only then.
Beth, why were you messaging him at midnight? Ever tried going to sleep at that time?
What do you mean, why? I wanted to know how he was! To show I care, obviously! Beths voice had an injured tone.
And he was desperately waiting for your concern at midnight? He asked for it, did he?
He ought to know Im thinking of him! He should be happy, if anything!
Of course, he should, Liz agreed dryly. Its just that he probably forgot and nodded off before remembering.
There was a pause. Beth was clearly building up her next argument.
Liz, I dont get it. Are you on my side or what?
Obviously I am, Liz set down her mug. Which is why Ill be honest: youre making the same mistake again, playing the hero.
What hero?
The rescue squad. You pick a man you think is broken and decide its your duty to fix him, to save him.
You put up with his slip-ups, drag him towards the light, lecture him on texting and appreciate the little things. But he just doesnt fixbecause he doesnt want to!
Beth went quiet, obviously stung. Then she muttered,
I just want a normal relationship. Attention, care, nice surprises…
But does he? Liz asked.
Well… I suppose
Beth, Liz sighed, if someones hungry, you dont have to beg them to eat. Theyll go and raid the fridge themselves. If a man wants to make you happy, he will. Not because you ask him to, but because it delights him to see you happy.
What if he just doesnt know how? Beth asked pitifully.
Are you supposed to be his happiness trainer?
Beth fell silent, and Liz heard her friends shaky breathing. Maybe she was even wiping away a tear.
Look, Liz softened, do you remember my Simon?
Of course! Beth replied with genuine excitement. Hes the perfect bloke!
Well, I never tried to fix him. In fact, I left him be, oddities and all. He still cant pick out flowers, mind. He always brings roses, even though I love daisies.
And?
And nothing. I just buy daisies for myself. Pop them in a vase and enjoy them. And the roses? I display them too, because he gave them to me, because theyre heartfelt.
Beth sniffled.
What if he never gives flowers at all?
Then he simply doesnt want to. Youve got the wrong man.
It hurts, Beth admitted quietly. I put in the effort. Read articles. Try to understand the psychology. He just doesnt care.
Beth, Liz gazed out the window at the March sun melting away the last of the frost, imagine you bought a cactus. Lovely, green, but prickly. You water it daily, feed it, talk to it. But it never flowers. Its not supposed to. Thats just how cacti are. Youre doing all the care, you could drown it with devotion, but itll stay just as it is. Just content on the windowsill.
So what do I do?
Stop watering. And find a violet. Or even a rose. Something that wants to bloom.
Beth sighed.
How do you know if its a violet or a cactus?
Its simple. Stop watering for three days. If he stays just the same, hes a cactus. If he reaches out, calls, starts missing youwell, maybe youve got a violet, or even a rose.
Laughter bubbled down the phonestill a bit teary, but real now.
Are you talking about flowers or men?
What difference does it make?
Beths laugh grew stronger.
Alright, Im off to move my cactus out of the sunlight.
Good plan, Liz praised. Let it sit in the shade. And yougo out for a walk. Its spring out there.
She hung up and turned to look at her bouquet. Roses, all roses, not a single daisy.
Liz smiled and reached for her favourite mug.
Shed buy daisies herself. Tomorrow. Today shed relax and enjoy a rare quiet day.
All because she didnt owe an explanation to anyone.
***
Beth set her phone down. The room felt oddly stillso quiet she could hear the drip from the eaves outside.
She walked over to the mirror. Her reflection showed tired eyes and a lost look. Shed tried so hard to be the one for Mark
But instead, shed become just a gardener watering a cactus.
Stop watering, pulsed in her mind.
She opened the chat with Mark. His last message: ok. Yesterday, 00:17.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. She typed, Mark, I think we should break up.
She deleted it.
Stared at his photo. Just a typical shot: him with his car. Once, that picture had warmed her. Now, nothing. Only emptiness.
She pressed Block.
The phone made a little ping and the screen went dark. Done.
Her heart pounded, but for once the emptiness was gone. Something new was rising inside her: strange, scary, but exhilaratingfreedom.
She threw on her coat and headed outside.
The sunshine dazzled, the eaves dripped, the air smelt of damp pavements and crisp freshness. She didnt know where she was headed. She just walked, weaving between puddles that mirrored the blue sky.
Outside the Underground station was a flower stall. Beth stopped. She gazed at rows of roses, chrysanthemums, carnations. Then, she saw them. Daisies.
Why does Liz love them so?
Ill have those, please, Beth said to the woman behind the stall.
The woman smiled and handed her the bunch.
Beth stepped outside again, clutching her armful of simple flowers, and suddenly felt good.
She wasnt just walking down the street. She was flying.
Forget the cactus! Why bother? This bouquet was for herself.
And how wonderful that felt.
Lifes lesson sometimes blooms only when you stop watering the wrong garden and choose, at last, to flower for your own sake.
