A middle-aged, casually-dressed man stood behind the counter. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”
“Yes. A friend of mine ordered some flowers from you.” I gave him the order number.
“Oh, yes. A dozen roses in a sterling silver vase. It’s quite a popular item.” He smiled politely. “I trust he was satisfied?”
I made a noncommittal sound. “He asked that a card be included. This is the card.” I placed the wrinkled, crushed piece of card stock on the counter.
“Someone seems to have been annoyed.” He picked it up and read it, and his smile faded. “Well, I…Many men send flowers by way of apology.”
“Believe me, I’m aware of that. However, according to my friend, that wasn’t what he asked to have written on the card.”
“Oh?”
“No. It was supposed to say ‘Thank you for giving me the—’”
“‘—the mo
