Laima settled comfortably on the café couch, waiting for her order while savoring her favorite cappuccino and éclair before work. Outside, snow drifted past the window. She took a sip of the warm coffee, enjoying the moment. At the table across from her, two girls chattedclearly friends.
“Listen, I ran into my exs new girlfriend recently. Honestly, shes not pretty at all. What does he even see in her?”
“Maybe she makes amazing cepelinai? Or works miracles in bed?” her friend joked.
“Oh, come on! Look at her Facebook photosshes nothing special.”
They laughed, but Laima froze. Memories rushed backher mothers words when she was seven: *”Our Laima may not be a beauty, but at least she can shine through hard work.”*
As an adult, Laima took meticulous care of her appearance, yet never felt beautiful enough. Her mother often reassured her, *”If not with beauty, charm them with your mind. Study, work hardso you wont end up alone.”*
In school, she was ashamed of her plain features and boyish frame. In university, she learned to dress stylishly and wear makeup. She even found a boyfriendthough hed joke about her “flat rear” or “big feet.” Laima accepted that even if she were smart, love might not find her.
Finishing her coffee and pastry, she rushed to work. At lunch, she stopped by her friend Ievas place to feed the cat and water the plants. Ieva had left for Tunisia, and her husband was rarely home. *”If he sees Laima, he wont even glance her way,”* Ieva had thought before leaving.
Arriving, Laima fed the sleepy cat Mėlynas before tending to the flowers. Music played in the next rooma familiar melody. She began singing along: *”A foreign star shines, far away from home”* Suddenly, the room felt wonderful. Among the flowers, in that song, she felt weightless. Without realizing, she started dancing, lost in the joy of the moment.
Thenvoices.
She turned to see two men: Vytautas, Ievas husband, and a stranger. Both looked stunned. *”How embarrassing!”* she thought.
“Laima, hello. This is my friend Kostas. We came for some documents. You were dancing so beautifullywe couldnt look away. Sorry if we startled you.”
“IIeva asked me”
Flustered, Laima rushed toward the door but tripped over the cat, crashing to the floor. Darkness swallowed her.
She woke in a hospital bed.
“Hello. How do you feel? Im Vika, your neighbor. Just a mild concussiondoctor says youre fine. A courier and a young man with flowers visited you.”
“Thanks,” Laima whispered.
Carefully, she sat up and opened the gift bagfruits, juice, and her favorite éclairs, likely from Ieva and Vytautas. Then, she noticed the bouquet and a note:
*”Laima, get well soon. A lovely woman like you doesnt belong in a hospital. Join me at the flower exhibitionno refusals. Kostas.”*
Laima pressed her face into the white chrysanthemums, closing her eyes in happiness, then hugged her roommate.
Beauty doesnt have to be loud or obvious. Every woman carries her ownsometimes warm, glowing from within.
Settled Comfortably on the Sofa in a Café, She Sipped Her Beloved Cappuccino and Indulged in a Creamy Eclair While Anticipating Her Order Before a Busy Workday.
