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English

English Oak

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English Oak

 

“Miah, come help me,” demanded a southern female voice from outside. Clenching her jaw, Miah stepped out from behind the counter. Walking over the hundred-year-old wooden boards for the millionth time, she pushed the screen door open. Next to her favorite English Oak tree sat her F-100 Ford pickup truck. Loads of freshly cut flowers filled the bed of the light blue pickup.

“We have to figure out a better system here.” The voice, from behind the bundle of multicolored hydrangeas, mumbled loudly.

Miah picked up a colorful array of carnations, their sweet smell reminding her of a new summer morning. Wresting a wicker basket full of Babies Breath onto her hip, Miah turned towards the building, loving the feeling of flowers in her arms.

“I see the cat has your tongue?”

Miah sighed, sometimes she just enjoyed silence. “Sorry, Momma…” she whispered, stopping to place a kiss on the older lady’s cheek. Her mother’s face was tanned and weathered from the years of working outside in her gardens.

Miah could feel her mother’s critical blue eyes tracing her form as she walked back into their florist shop. “Mr. Goddard stopped in. He ordered a bouquet for Bethy’s return,” she called from the back room. It was Miah’s favorite place since it was where all the floral arrangements were completed. She placed the flowers on the shelving unit, fingering the petals of a white carnation.

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“I still cannot believe Goddard let his girl go away to school. Our community college has always been enough for everyone else in town,” her mother huffed as she walked across the threshold lugging with her a basket of sunflowers. Their heads bobbed up and down as if they agreed with Momma’s statement.

“Bethy went to law school, Momma. We both know Coahoma Community College would not have given her that degree.”

Momma pursed her lips, confident that her side of the argument was the correct one. “Yes, well, I am just glad you stayed here. I don’t know what I would do without you, especially after your father’s death.”

Miah’s heart dropped slightly. Miah put her arm around her mother. “I will always be here for you.”

DING, the familiar ring of the bell announced the entrance of a guest. “I’ll get it.” Momma patted Miah’s arm gently. This left Miah to unpack the flowers and put them into their appropriate containers. Her body seemed to move solely on instinct; it was the same routine she had been following for close to twenty years. Finally, all the flowers were in their proper place.

“Miah, darling, Gilbert is here for you,” Momma smirked as she came in with one last flat of roses. Miah couldn’t help but blush under her curious gaze, and she could feel her heart rate quicken and her hands tremble slightly. Miah could tell already that this visit was going to be different in comparison to his usual Wednesday morning stops.

Stepping into the main room of the shop Miah found Gil’s warm brown eyes watching for her. “Hey Gil.” Miah smiled as she walked into his open arms.

“How is my beautiful flower today?” His silky voice washed over her, sending slight shivers across her back. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I brought you coffee.” His eyebrows quirked. Her best friend knew her well, and he was proud of it. “One medium hot caramel macchiato from the Corner Café.”

“You are too good to me.” Miah squeezed his forearm. Smirking at his attention, she stepped towards her coffee which sat proudly on the counter.

“You’ve heard that Bethy is coming back?” Gilbert asked courteously. He watched the silver dangle earrings bob as Miah nodded her head. “Have you thought about my question from last night?” he questioned coming to lean against the counter, his gaze never leaving Miah’s face.

Miah’s outstretched hand hesitated inches from the disposable mug. “I’ve been praying about it… Gil, I need more time.” She watched him rub the back of his neck, a familiar gesture. His eyes were downturned, a mix of emotions running across his face, none stood long enough for Miah to gauge what he was feeling.

“That is better than a no,” his voice was pinched, “I will wait for you.”

Miah’s face was tight. “Thank you.” Gil reached out his hand, and Miah could feel her muscles relax at his touch. Her thoughts battled against each other; one side screamed for her to agree to Gil’s question, yet the other side begged for her to say no. She glanced at Gil; his broad shoulders seem to fill up the tiny florist, but he did not overpower the space. Oh, how she cared for this man. It was still too soon. She could not make the change; fear gripped her heart.

“I’m sorry Gil,” she whispered retracting slightly from his hand. “I like my life. I am content, comfortable, safe.” The disappointment on Gilbert’s face was tangible. Miah new this was hurting him, yet she could not bring herself to relent. She was like the English Oak tree which stood by the little shop: unchanging. Change was terrifying; her father’s death was proof enough of that.

“Are we still on for pizza tonight? I have a new movie that I know you and Momma will love.” His usual good-natured spirit slowly returning.

Miah smirked. Pizza night was her favorite. “I am looking forward to it.” Gilbert’s lips grazed her temple as he stood to leave.

“I’ll see you later,” Gil uttered, turning to leave. Miah lifted her hand to wave goodbye. Each time he asked, Miah became more convinced she was making the wrong choice.

As the day passed, the weather turned vengeful. Dark gray filled the sky, eerie howling filled the air. Rain splattered on the windowpanes, and trees danced as if their lives depended on it. Entranced by the storm Miah stepped towards the window. Momma had left earlier, leaving an empty feel throughout the shop.

Chills climbed up Miah’s bare arms causing her hairs to stand on end. Lighting streaked the sky spreading bright light for miles. Guttural crashes of thunder rattled every hanging item in the room. Miah grabbed the cable knit cardigan they kept by the register; she pulled it tightly around her shoulders.

Slicing through the sky was another bolt, bigger than the last. The lightning struck with precision, hitting Miah’s beloved tree. An earsplitting crash assaulted Miah’s ears. Suddenly everything turned into a slow-motion picture; Miah watched unblinking as the English Oak thudded to the ground. It was over.

Feeling lighter somehow, Miah looked around the little shop. The darkness made everything feel unfamiliar; she craved a change. The tree was her lifeline, and now that it had broken she was ready, she too could move on. Warmth filled her body covering her like the sun covers the earth after it has spent months hidden by the snow. Her heart sang gaily, freed somehow to go on living. Miah realized she could now answer Gil. Her heart was free and change was okay; she would marry.

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