The Perfect Rose

A Story by Batman

A real mean would never break a tradition to his true love.

I was standing in the cold Chicago snow, looking at the bodies push and squish together in the small flower shop. I have been going to this shop for thirteen years for my wife’s anniversary flowers and once again, the shop is full of forgetful business men who are picking up last minute Valentine flowers. This made me wish that my wife and I got married in the winter to avoid this type of stuff; marriage on Valentines seems too cliché, but this taught me to call for reservations/gifts ahead of time to avoid this chaos.

As I stood outside, I then began bracing myself and walk into the jam-packed shop. I would look at every rushing man as I pushed myself pass them. They all gave me a glare that said “you think you are better than me, huh?” This glare made me a little uncomfortable but it was worth suffering to get the red and yellow bouquet that my wife loves so much.

I squeezed myself through the warm bodies and tried to get someone’s attention behind the counter by screaming “HEY! Can you please help me?! I am over here,” I screamed this multiple times ‘till someone finally heard me over the roaring crowd.

“¿Qué quieres?” an old man asked. I thought I heard him wrong and he asked a different question but I just continued what I needed to ask for.

“I called earlier for a bouquet of red and yellow roses, I see them right there behind you with my name on them, I already paid by credit card, may you please hand them to me?” I hollered while pointing at the flowers.

“Estos flores es para un hombre por Kevin,” all I heard was mumbling except my name, it was the only word I recognized.

“Those are my flowers,” I said while reaching over the counter for them, “thank you!” I announced while I started walking away. I was hoping he wouldn’t get mad but once I was getting closer to the door, I looked back at him and he was already busy with another costumer.

Walking out of the shop without damaging the flowers was challenging but I succeeded at it. Stepping into the cold weather once again woke me up, it was early in the morning and seeing me in the city at this time was abnormal and I was functioning slower than usual. People at this time were no different later in the morning; still tired, angry, busy. Seeing the people made me think how I acted towards my wife in the morning; exhausted, impatient, unresponsive. Guilt slowly began to form in my stomach and was quite sickening. I then sat in my car and turned on the hot air to see if it’ll settle me, it didn’t.

As I sat in the car, I realized that I was behind schedule; I was hoping to be out of Chicago city this early in the morning and be on the road to the cabin my wife and I always go to. This cabin had so many memories my wife and I spent together with. Her and I would always go together early in the morning to this cabin in the forest to celebrate our anniversary/Valentine’s day. We have gone to this place for twelve years in a row and this will be the thirteenth year that she and I will celebrate together in that cabin. She would sit in the passenger seat adoring her flowers as our favorite band, Bright Eyes, would be breaking the silence. She would occasionally hum to a couple songs while staring out the window. Her small piano playing fingers would tangle in with my large, bulky keyboard slamming hands and would just be so fit together so perfectly. Every so often, we would see a deer or some rabbits on the side of the road; this encouraged her idea of us to try having a daughter. When she would ask “when do you want kids?” I would give her the same reply, “soon.” After twelve years of marriage and her 34years of living, she finally gave me the big news two months ago. She was pregnant.

The idea of being a father frightened me but knowing this is just the next step my wife and I will be taking to make our marriage stronger made me feel better. I was excited about this baby and was counting the days till the birth. I would go through names every day and write her name out in cursive to see if her signature will be beautiful when she would sign papers as an adult. I didn’t want to give her a name that was popular but not a name that no one could pronounce. This baby never left my mind for a second and I was excited to write her name out on her birth certificate. I couldn’t wait; knowing that I will be a father began to excite me. Every time I hugged my wife, butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I hugged my soon-to-be daughter as well. I would want to take my wife to the doctor very often just so I can hear her heart beat through the machines; her heart beat had the most beautiful sound and always watered up my eyes.

Driving on the road was a lot rougher than it usually was and it the clouds in the sky were getting darker by the minute. Every mile seemed longer and slower and all my thoughts were getting deeper. Waiting to see my wife and her baby was making me impatient but knowing my father-in-law, Jim, was going to also be there waiting for me made me wish that I will never arrive to the cabin.

Jim was a Vietnam Veteran; old, frustrated, judgmental. I still haven’t convinced him after so many years that I am a good husband to his daughter. Finding courage to walk into the cabin late was becoming very difficult with him being there to judge me once again. I still remember his face when my wife told him that we are getting married. The disgust in his eyes every time he looks at me made me feel worthless and pushed me to be a better husband. The uneasiness in his voice when he speaks to me made me more of a gentleman. The pity he had towards me made me a harder manager of the big company. As I thought about it more, he pushed me to become a better man yet I still haven’t had any gratitude from him. I was hoping that maybe he would finally say the one phrase I have been waiting for him to say to me today “you did well”. That one phrase will complete my life knowing that I’m finally a part of his family.

The sky began to cry and it was crying hard. I had to drive more carefully which wouldn’t allow me to think very deeply. The road was starting to disappear with the running water which was causing me not to think so deeply but luckily I was only ten minutes away from the cabin. I could see it from where I was driving and it was surrounded by many cars. All of my wife’s family was here for the ceremony and I was the last one to arrive. Knowing to be the last one to walk through the doors made my hands sweat and my neck ache. I was craving for my wife’s piano playing hands to relax my muscles as she always did before I would do something important. Driving through the cars was a maze and finding a place to park made it seem impossible. I looked at the clock and I was a couple minutes late which made the guilt in my stomach to multiply and numbed the bottom half of my body. While parallel parking to the closest place to the cabin, I would see a couple of my wife’s smoking cousins in the front mourning in silence. The rain suited the occasion and set the tone. I would take longer blinks to not push any tears out and take longer breaths to not feel the burning pain in the back of my throat but it wasn’t helping.

When I turned off the car, I sat in my numbing skin and listen to every large rain drop hit the car. I know that the 20degree weather was going freeze all the cars shut but it didn’t bother me. I would see some people dressed in black leave the cabin to go to their cars and drive off just because they can’t afford their cars to freeze. Only my wife’s close family and wealthy was staying. This made my courage that I didn’t have to build up a little to walk through the front doors late. My hands were sweating off the wheel and my grip was getting tighter. My heart beat was too loud for my ears and the thoughts . I know that the family is just sitting there, waiting for me because I paid them to start the ceremony as soon as I was ready. I grabbed the rain jacket in the back seat so my suit wouldn’t get wet, I didn’t want to disappoint my wife with a wet suit. I then cradled the flowers and zipped it up in my rain jacket and the thorns were puncturing my skin, I wouldn’t want my wife to hold wet flowers.

I closed my door shut and made my way towards the door. Every step I was taking felt like I was pushing my heart deeper into a knife. There was a small burn in the back of my throat that would only be controlled by me coughing and the tears were starting to build but were camouflaged by the rain. I opened the heavy door to see all the furniture my wife and I would sit on to fit the ceremony and all the people to sit down. There was a black sign that read my wife’s name in a gold font that described her; beautiful and complicated. The mood in the atmosphere hit me when I walked through the door along with the warmth. I hung my jacket on the rack and held the flowers downward. The gravity must have been pulling harder because my steps were getting heavier and slower. I then looked forward and I saw all the people siting, facing forward, not even dare to turn to see who just walked in because they already know who it is. I then walked through the aisle of perfectly placed chairs and avoided any eye contact except one; the man with the grey hair that was standing over his daughter. I stood next to him, hoping he could give me some comforting words but he just turned at went to his seat. I looked down at the dark shiny casket, there laid my beautiful wife in her wedding dress. I am glad they put her in this because I knew it still fitted her even though she is pregnant with my two month old daughter.

I placed the bouquet on my Niqqevin Dylann Sanchez, my daughter who was going to be born on September 15 and bowed got on my knees for Dilliana Niqqylan Sanchez; the name that I was thankful to say is my wife. I could smell the bitter sweetness from the flowers that blended in with the vanilla sorrow scent my wife was giving off. Her dark chocolate hair matched perfectly with the casket and her scars were hidden yet her beauty still glowed. Dilliana’s tan was golden and its health hasn’t faded yet. I rested my head on the casket as the wild fire in the back of my throat was uncontrollable and my face began to rain harder than the skies. My pain was present in the room and everyone could see my weakness but it no longer matter as I lost the two people in my life that I don’t know how I could live without.

I felt a light warm hand on my shoulder and a roughly soothing voice saying “you did well.”