Flowers and Chocolate

February 14th It was ten P.M. and Justin Carter was about to close Flowers and Chocolates after a very long and arduous Valentine’s Day when an executive type came in the door. “I need a dozen red roses for my wife.” “I’m sorry, sir. We ran out of roses two hours ago.” Justin stood waiting to see what the customer would say. “You had roses this afternoon, I know because I sent two dozen to a friend,” the man said, slightly annoyed. “All I have left are some orchids and chrysanthemums with maybe six white roses. I can make an arrangement with those along with some greenery. Otherwise I can sell you a chocolate candy heart filled with homemade truffles.” Justin tried to be patient; but it was five minutes to closing on a holiday where flowers were an integral part of the ritual. “If you take the arrangement, I’ll charge you the same amount as I would have for the roses even though the orchids are more expensive.” The man stood, obviously considering his options. “Can’t take the chocolate, the cow is always on a diet. What do white flowers symbolize?” he asked Justin. Justin’s heart went out to the poor woman who was married to this cheating bastard. “Generally, purity, innocence and undying fidelity.” Justin knew that this bastard sent two dozen roses earlier to his mistress. He had the slightly disheveled look of a man who just got out of bed after getting laid. “White’s perfect. Undying fidelity, she’ll like that. She’s dumb as a post.” His customer chuckled. Justin felt the urge to defend the absent wife. If only he could he’d make an arrangement that would tell her what a scum bucket she married; but he couldn’t alienate a customer, not if he wanted to buy this place from his boss. He went into the back and took his time making a beautiful arrangement in a lovely square crystal block. He hated this holiday. It was a panacea for fools. A year ago today, on a beautiful February morning he’d received a dozen red roses from Nicky, by evening he found they meant a whole lot less than nothing and he’d been living with the pain of that betrayal ever since. Valentine’s Day the previous year was the worst day of Justin’s life and although he managed a flower and upscale chocolate shop and the store did well on this day every year, he hated the day and would for the rest of his life. He brought the arrangement out to the customer, who didn’t seem to care that Justin stayed after the scheduled closing to help him. He let the customer out the door and locked it behind him, turning the sign on the door to read closed. He went in the back to clean up and started to cry and wasn’t able to stop until he locked up the shop at eleven. Justin had thought he could make a new start today. He’d even planned to hit a club, but it wasn’t meant to be. Even if he had gotten out on time, he wouldn’t have gone clubbing anyway; it was too soon. * * * * Rafe’s Tavern sat on the corner of Twenty-third and Seventh Avenue. It was close to the entrance to the Seventh Avenue Subway. It was a good corner for business. Rafe’s regulars were cops, firemen, locals and cabbies. He sold liquor with a limited food selection. Besides the daily special, Rafe served burgers, meatloaf and mashed potatoes; fish and chips, and spaghetti and meatballs, plus a few sandwiches and the soup of the day; not an extensive menu. But most people came to Rafe’s to drink, not eat. Rafe’s food was a loss leader. He served it at cost to bring in the drinkers who paid for the high markup drinks. Rafe hated Valentine’s Day. Every other day of the year except Thanksgiving and Christmas, which he spent with his mama, Rafe’s Tavern stayed open and the bar was full, except for Valentine’s Day. It was after eleven on Valentine’s Day and his place was almost empty. Most of his regulars were out with their significant others in places other than a neighborhood shot and beer joint. On top of that, the few regulars who did come in on Valentine’s Day had gone home to their warm apartments avoiding the two foot of snow forecast that was now accumulating on the city streets. If I stay any longer, I won’t get home at all. Well I have the cot in the back. It wouldn’t be the first time I stayed overnight. With the winds high and the temperature plummeting, he was just about to close the bar when the door opened. A slight figure struggled with the door. He finally got it open when the wind practically blew him inside. Rafe couldn’t tell whether the kid was male or female under all the wrapping. Rafe assumed it was a he. Ladies generally did not patronize his establishment. He was about five foot five to Rafe’s six foot two. He wore a navy blue snorkel coat with a fur trimmed hood. A bright red scarf covered the lower half of his face and a red hat was pulled down to his eyebrows. The eyes were a beautiful color, emerald green, but they were puffy and the rims red. He looked to be about twenty. “Before you get undressed, I’m going to have to card you.” The red scarf came off revealing thin lips with a slight pout. “I’m twenty-three. Let me get out of these clothes and I’ll show you my driver’s license.” The hood came off along with the red knit hat revealing hair the color of sweet corn. Next came the jacket which hid a slender but well-defined, toned frame in a tight long sleeved Henley covered with open plaid flannel shirt. He stuck his hand in the back of his very tight jeans and pulled out his wallet, opened it and handed it to Rafe. Rafe closed the billfold and put out his hand, “Rafe Santiago, Mr. Carter, what can I do for you this evening?” “Justin, please, Mr. Carter is my father. I’ll take a rum and Diet Coke or Coke Zero.” He looked up at the specials board. “Do you have any of that stew left? I haven’t eaten anything since four this morning.” Rafe went over to the bar to make his drink. He took down the Barcardi Gold, the kid looked like he could use the good stuff. “Yeah, the cook made too much. I have the stew with some Italian bread.” Rafe set the drink in front of Justin. Rafe went back to the kitchen, nuked a bowl of stew, came out and set it down in front of Justin. “Be careful, it’s hot.” “Thank you,” Justin said, mechanically eating his food. “Why are you alone tonight? A man who looks like you shouldn’t be alone on Valentine’s Day,” Rafe said as he picked up the grill underneath the beer taps and began to clean the stainless steel, making conversation as he worked. “I hate this holiday.” Justin looked up from the stew, his eyes a bit glassy, “I had someone until a year ago today. He’s gone.” “He was crazy to leave someone as beautiful as you are.” Rafe began to restock the liquor shelves from the crates he brought up from downstairs earlier. “What about you, why are you alone on the holiday?” Justin asked. “I’m gay, and I’ve never had a serious relationship. Valentine’s Day means nothing to me except that it’s a day I get very little business.” Rafe started to wipe down the bar. “Valentine’s Day is one of the busiest days of our year. I manage Flowers and Chocolates, two doors down.” Justin sopped up the remainder of the stew with his bread. Rafe stopped what he was doing and looked at Justin. “I know the shop. Don’t you close at nine?” “Certain days of the year we stay open later, until ten. Mother’s Day, Easter and Valentine’s Day,” Justin said, sipping his drink. “But it’s after eleven. The weather is getting worse. How come you left work so late?” Rafe couldn’t figure out why he was so concerned. But the sad eyes and general depression that Justin exhibited worried him. “I had a customer who came in five minutes before closing looking for roses for his wife.” Justin shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “Do you want more stew? I have plenty left and I’ll just have to throw it out,” Rafe asked him as he took his plate. “It was very good stew but I don’t have much of an appetite.” Justin gave Rafe a weak smile. “Who would go to a flower ship at nine-fifty-five looking for roses for his wife on Valentine’s Day?” Rafe came around the bar and began to put the chairs on top of the tables. “A bastard who remembered to send roses to his mistress earlier in the day and completely forgot his wife,” Justin said bitterly. “I see you’re about to close up. Give me my check so you can get out of here before it gets worse outside.” “How far do you have to go?” Rafe wrote up the check. Justin took out his wallet, paid the check and left a generous tip. “I don’t live far. Just a few blocks from the subway.” “If you wait, I’ll walk you to the subway,” Rafe offered. Justin gave him a sad smile. “Not necessary, but thank you.” Before Rafe had the chance to say another word, Justin was gone.