Here's some of those meager beginnings I was talking about:
Letters to a Loved One
It was a normal day in the life of Abigail Winters. Wake up, shower, breakfast, and then a long day working in the flower shop on Main Street. Clipping the stems of a few roses she worked on an arrangement for Mrs. Fieldmont’s anniversary. Mr. Fieldmont would be there in an hour and he was never one to wait. Rather than being yelled at while he waited she worked through her lunch hour to finish before he got there. The bell above the door jangled and she called out to the customer. “I’ll be with you in just a second!” Placing the last rose in the vase, she looked up and was surprised not to see anyone in the store. She hadn’t heard the bell ring to show someone left. Suddenly a man jumped out from behind a tree scaring the crap out of her. “Shit!” Bringing her hand to her chest it felt as if her heart was about to explode. “Damn It Charlie! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I told you to stop doing that.” He put on the boyish cute smile that got him out of everything he does. “Abbey, you know that I just mess with you because I love you.” Cocking her head, she gave him the look that always called out his bullshit. He put up his hands as if in surrender. “Hey, you know that I love you, but I mess with you because it’s fun.” Smiling, she pulled him into a hug. “I have missed you so much. I told you that when you went into the Army we would never see each other.” His smile thinned into a hard line. “Abbey, I love the Army, and that is one of the things I need to talk to you about this weekend. When do you get off work?” Calculating the day and what time it was in her head, she thought not soon enough. “I have at least another two hours maybe more if I can’t get these orders filled.” Looking her up and down a frown replaced the thin line, and she saw worry in his eyes. “When was the last time you ate a good meal?” She didn’t want to lie to him, but she didn’t want him to know that she skipped lunch almost every day. She must have been silent to long because now he was rambling on. “You need to eat three meals a day. You know that you are already too thin. You know what. Where are your house keys?” Pulling her keys out from behind the counter she handed them over. “I am expecting you home in two hours no longer, and you better be hungry.” With that he turned and walked out the bell ringing as the door opened and closed. He was ever the over protective brother. If only he had been born her brother than they never would have been split up by the orphanage. He had been her rock back then, and when he found her two years ago he became her rock again. They had been best friends when he was 8 and she was 6. When they were sent to two different foster homes they had tried to keep in touch but neither had been the best writers. He was the only person she had considered family and had thought of him often. Then when she least expected it he found her in the same place as today. Making flowers for the people of the small town of Little Glen, Montana. She didn’t recognize him but he called her Abs and she knew. He was the only person she ever let call her Abs. Now he joined the army and was getting shipped out in less than a week. She was losing him all over again. The bell rang and she looked up to find Mr. Fieldmont coming in a scow already on his face. Glancing at the clock she saw that an hour had gone by and she hadn’t even realized it. Also, the flower arrangements she needed to finish were completed in front of her. She had done them without even thinking. Mr. Fieldmont had made his way to the counter and was impatiently drumming his fingers on the counter. “Here are your flowers Mr. Fieldmont. Is everything to your liking?” smiling sweetly pretending not to notice his annoyance. His confirmation was a grunted yes. Taking his money she hollered to him as he left. “Thank you, come again soon!” The door slammed in response shaking the bell and nearly shattering the glass. “Lovely day to you, too.” She mumbled carrying the finished arrangements to the fridge in back. It took her another hour to clean up the store. Locking up, she walked the four blocks down Main Street to her small corner house. All the lights were on showing that Charlie had indeed been cooking dinner. She was not looking forward to him stuffing at least three servings down her throat.
Carpe Diem (hard to do these days),Tabitha
