“Wow! They are beautiful! Are these from your garden?”
“Some. Some from the fields behind our house. Last night, I couldn't’t resist them. Before I knew, I took pictures out there until I had no more light. Then, I thought. No. I need to take them to class.”
Ron had an armful of flowers when I picked him up at seven-o-five; I had to drop Carlie and Ryan at the YMCA since my husband was out of town. The Y opened and closed at seven. I left my children with another mom waiting in her car for the door to open.
I was late; and could do nothing to change that situation. In Los Angeles, you have to allow plenty of time to get places. Especially if your job did not have flexible hours. Most teachers begged their administrator for first-period preparation. It allowed some people to get in a bit late, and get away with it; and it allowed the rest of the teachers to cover the classes of the late-arrivals and make some extra money. Administrators made all kinds of check marks on our time sheets, indicating our lateness, absences, coverage required, coverage not required.
The flowers erased the doubts I had about Ron. His bringing armful of flowers to school didn’t feel unusual at all. Wildflowers, roses, lavender, daisies, statice, all spilled in the back seat as he deposited two bags and himself in the front.
Before I knew, I had been on the road for a good forty minutes. The time had just whizzed by. When I parked, the car smelled of roses and lavender, as he gathered his things.
“This will look great on your desk. “ He said as he handed me a small bouquet."
I put the flowers to my nose and breathed the fragrance deeply.
"What are you doing for lunch?" He asked.
"I eat my yogurt and correct papers in the classroom. The only time I have to myself."
Then I added, " I rush home, unless we have meetings.”
“I’ll be ready. If you change your mind about lunch, I found this wonderful..." I was at my door. Students were milling all over the place, and I didn't even hear his last comment.
Detours-- A short story in six parts. Written by Rosaria.
All characters and situations are fictional.
All rights reserved.