Flower Language

The time at work was passing by hastily, more clients came to enjoy their coffee and as many left the premise, bearing smile on their faces. Eugene spent most of his working hours in the kitchen, while Jessie worked in the café itself, taking a role of a waiter. The man could hear her blabbering with customers, but mostly with her classmates that visited her on occasion. They were not as annoying as Eugene's company, thus Arnold was quite considerate with them. However, only in his presence they acted like polite, fair ladies. When Eugene was in charge of the place, their chirping voices and thin laughter could be heard most clearly.

At one point, the man could not bear the noise outside. He left the kitchen and tried to confront Jessie. Alas, her friends were already leaving and since there were not many clients left near the closing hours, Jessie immediately noticed his annoyed grimace.

"You do really resemble Arnold a lot." she said caustically, which made Eugene frown even more, "No, I am not!"

The woman sighed and strolled past him. She said, "I know that they were loud, but there is nothing I could do. They are quite in Arnold's presence, more so due to being afraid of him and not because I ask. If it makes you happy, you can leave tidying up the place to me."

"Deal!" exclaimed Eugene with a bright smile. He immediately ran to the kitchen, packed his belongings and was ready to leave the premise.

"Are you actually leaving me behind!?" cried out a now upset woman. Eugene did not face her, but instead thanked her sincerely and proceeded with going outside. He did not leave to spite Jessie and her flawed suggestion. Even though it was a truly pleasant bonus, his main reason were the plans he had for today. And extra time he received from this proposal was just in time.

And so, Eugene walked down the moist road towards his home. Gray clouds were flying by the town, so close, in fact, it felt like you could touch them from the tip of Eiffel Tower. They were blown by rare but strong winds that also inverted the umbrellas of those that passed by the man. In spite of all the evidences, Eugene was not keen on hurrying up to his place. He had plenty of time, and not until the rain, but rather the culmination of his plans.

As soon as the man arrived home, he did not envelop himself in its cosiness, on the contrary, he jumped into other set of clothes with an intent to leave. Instead of his work attire, consisting of stylish, but bland vest on top of the shirt, Eugene changed into a two-piece suit that was given to him by his brother. Even though this naval attire was about two years old, it looked like new, since Christopher wore it only once on a corporate event. Even in Eugene's hands it did not have much use all the way until today.

Eugene came back outside to be greeted by sudden changes in the skies. After a short while when he was at home, clouds faded away drastically and moist paths around the town were glimmering from the sunlight. The rain did not come, despite all the evidences pointing at its inevitable downfall.

"Thank god…" whispered the man, and continued his journey towards the park. His left palm was preoccupied by a sizable coin that traversed his hand as if it was alive. Eugene was again playing with the coin, all while walking past lone trees, cars and some kids who were staring at him in awe.

Suddenly, his path was crossed by an old lady. She was wearing a white dress and a sun hat that she held still with one hand. Also, in her tight grip, was a bouquet of magnificent roses and lilies, as well as less notable chamomile and many other flowers. The man stopped and outreached his left arm.

"Excuse me, madam. How much can I get for this?"

The lady smiled and collected all white tulips she had into her free hand, and gave them to Eugene. He paid for the smaller bouquet, and both went to their own way.

First, the man arrived at a staircase up the hill that lead him to the entrance gate. It was more of a symbolic or historical building, since there were not any fences surrounding the premise. Even though the gate's condition was not the best, with cracks and moss all around the place, one could still clearly read words engraved on the flat front, "Parc de la Piquette".

It was a small park build on the place where a vineyard was destroyed during the French Revolution. The place belonged to one businessman closely tied with the crown, and thus peasants from the nearby villages pillaged it. The common folk was the reason for the park name, since all they were only capable of making piquette out of grape pomace that remained from harvested and processed grapes. One hell of a drink to celebrate the fall of the monarchy and establishment of the first French republic! Even now, some wild grape vines were spewing out of the ground and enveloping sole trees at the entrance, although they might have come from gardeners who wanted to establish some beauty and not from the long history of this park.

Eugene took a look around the place, overfilled with young trees and various flowers. Many of them already died out from autumns cold, however, those more persistent like yarrows, dandelions or fumitories were calmly basking in the sun. Eugene could not help but admire their fortitude, but their beauty paled in comparison to tulips he bought earlier. So the man passed on the opportunity to make his own autumn bouquet, instead, he went deeper into the park. From time to time he was turning his head in both directions in search of someone. And the more he looked around, the more sweat spread on his forehead. Then, at once, he stopped and looked at the distance, the pace of his foot quickened, and soon his eyes met with the one he was looking for.

On the small hill, right before the stone paved road, encircled by several benches all around the marble fountain, stood a woman. For some reason, the wind stroke her blonde hair and crimson-black dress ever so gently, as if a cleaning lady was brushing off particles of dust from a crystal sculpture. It was a peculiar sight indeed, but also quite convenient one, since Eugene was able to witness her emerald gaze in its full glory. 

She appeared to be bored and uninterested, even after she noticed the man looking at her. As soon as Eugene came close enough to be heard, she said, "Seems like the lack of manners is a distinguishing feature of those working at Monso Rooster, Monsieur buffoon."

"Give me a break," sighed Eugene and extended the hand with tulips, "Last time I checked, I came to the park thirty minutes earlier. And you arrived even earlier than that! Were you so eager to meet me?"

The woman snorted in displeasure at his answer, however, she took the flowers and glanced over them with dignity. A light smile arouse on her face and she caustically said, "And you still apologized to me, how considerate of you."

"What do you mean?"

"In flower language, white tulips mean "I am sorry", although they are more used to show your condolence for the family of the deceased ones."

Eugene rubbed his chin and murmured, "Well, I did not know that… hopefully, no one has passed away in your family?" to which the woman narrowed her brows and replied, "How untactful!"

"You are the one who said we lack manners at Monso Rooster! Now bear the consequences of your words."

To Eugene's surprise, from her puffed cheeks came a quiet giggle. She then turned away to hide her face, pointed forward, and said with joy rendered in her voice, "Enough of that! Shall we go to the bakery you were talking about previously?"

And so they did, Sylvia came forward and Eugene followed her. Her pace was not the slowest, but the man caught up to her quickly. Then, he immediately delved again into the conversation with her.

"What else do you know about the flower language?"

"Enough to satisfy my need for knowledge. For example, white orchid in the coffee that I made for you the first time we met, means "Innocence" or "Purity"."

"Did not you say, that I lack it?"

The woman smiled arrogantly and Eugene snorted, "Alright, is there a flower with the meaning of "Annoyance"?"

The woman nodded and said hastily, "Petunia, your spiritual flower." which made Eugene rethink the wording of his question. And after a second or two, he shyly replied, "Well, I did not think that through."

Once again, the woman giggled, brightening up the park that was hidden in shadows of tall trees. And so the two of them were discussing flowers and their meanings in the flower language all the way until they reached their destination.