The Day the Flowers Died by Ami Blackwelder Page B

delectable,” Eli said and pushed himself
out of his seat.  The butler handed him his trench coat. 
“Thank you.” Eli brushed his hair back and took the coat from the
butler’s hands.  Rebecca finished licking red brown sauce
still on her plate with her fingers and then glided over to Eli
with her arm squeezing under his.
    “Eli has to get going.  He has a big day tomorrow with his
family,” Rebecca said. Ralph stood, walking to Eli to shake his
hand.  Eli reciprocated.
    “It was nice meeting all of you.”
    “It was a pleasure finally meeting you,” Deseire said.  “I
have been waiting awhile to meet the secret man Rebecca has been
hiding.”
    “I’ll see him to the door,” Rebecca said.  The two of them
strolled out of the dining hall and Rebecca nestled her mouth to
Eli’s ear.  “You ate your ham.”
    “Yes, well, I was trying to be polite. I didn’t want to offend
your parents,” he thought for a moment with a childish grin, “or
the cook.”
    Rebecca nudged his shoulder and they walked out to his car.
    “I guess I’ll see you after Christmas.”
    “Do come to my New Year’s Eve party. It will be at my place and
everyone will start arriving around eight.  You will meet my
friends, or at least some of them.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    Eli’s lips moved towards hers and, after a brief moment of
passion, Eli slipped into his car and Rebecca watched him drive
away, back to Munich, back to her home.
    Retracing her steps to the lavishly decorated house, she saw the
curtain in the side window wrinkle back over the glass and the
silhouette of her mother disappear. Rebecca’s muscles tightened and
her lips pressed hard, knowing her mother’s hidden disapproval and
peering eyes always kept watch on her, even after all these
years.  She did not want to walk through those doors, back
into the house, knowing the discourse she would have, defending the
man she was with, defending the university she attended, defending
her choices in life.  Rebecca sighed and opened the large oak
doors, entering to the living room where her parents waited with
Mildred’s strong smile telling her she would be fine.
    A large Christmas tree sat in the corner of the room with a red
silk rug engulfing its base. Five presents packaged in silver,
gold, green, white, and red wrapping paper waited underneath the
tree’s boughs.  Rebecca passed her mother and sped to the
tree, as if she were twelve again, to examine the gifts, then tried
to sneak out of the room.
    Deseire watched Rebecca ignore her and followed Rebecca into the
corridor before she escaped to her room upstairs.
    “We have to talk about this,” Deseire insisted.
    “I don’t want to have this conversation with you, Mutti. 
It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want our arguing to spoil
anything.  Can’t you just wait until after Christmas?” Rebecca
implored and, with that reasonable suggestion, Deseire’s tightened
jaws loosened and Rebecca’s tightened muscles relaxed.
    “After Christmas morning, but we will have this discussion,”
Deseire insisted.  Rebecca turned from her mother, rolled her
eyes and pouted her lips, then pranced up the stairwell to her
private room with a tub.
    Rebecca knew the conversation her mother wanted to have, both of
them pulling a string in opposite directions, each insisting they
knew what was best for Rebecca’s life.  Only Rebecca did know
best without the doubt that plagued her in previous times when they
argued.
    Doubt questioned, when she insisted on leaving for college, if
Munich would work out for her.  Doubt made her choice of
Nursing uncertain.  But Eli — she knew in the deepest parts of
her heart Eli was right for her and no amount of whining or arguing
from her mother could change that. Rebecca took a bath and Mildred
helped her get into bed. Before turning out the lights, Mildred sat
beside Rebecca’s pillow and kissed her forehead.
    “You’ve always had a strong will just like your father, your