Me: Thanks for the flowers.
There is no reply right away, so I set the phone down and jump in the shower. I am blow drying my hair and drinking coffee with I hear my phone signal a message.
Asher: Didn’t send anything
Me: Oh? Maybe my dad sent them.
“Hey, baby girl.” He answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Dad. Um, I was wondering if you sent me flowers?”
“No? Why?”
“I got a delivery this morning of roses and Asher didn’t send them.”
“I didn’t send anything.”
My breathing started to pick up and I knew my dad heard it through the phone. “I'm sure they are from someone you know,” he says quietly. I'm not as sure as he is. I feel paranoid, but after the roses that someone left me at my dad’s house, there is always a nagging in the back of my head telling me that something bad is going to happen to me again.
“I can tell you’re worried. Don’t worry so much. Nothing has happened since the break-in.”
“You’re right. I'm acting crazy,” I tell him. Flowers are not a big deal.
“If you feel unsafe, just tell me and I will be over there.”
“No, Dad. You’re right. I'm fine.”
“Okay, baby girl. I'm going to go to sleep. My phone is on if you need me.”
“Thanks, Dad. Love you,” I whisper, feeling like an idiot.
“Love you too, baby girl.” He hung up and I called everyone else I knew who might send me flowers. No one did.
Asher: Was it your dad???
Me: He said no. I called around and no one else sent them.
Less than a second later, I get a response.
Asher: I'm calling Dad now.
Me: I don’t think that’s necessary.
Asher: Dad will be there in 5. I'm on my way. Stay inside and lock the door.
Me: I'm fine. Stop worrying. Its making me freak.
Asher: Rather you be paranoid.
I hear the car pull up and I jump off the couch from where me and Beast are cuddling, and run to the front door. I look out the peep hole just as Asher’s dad is getting out of the police cruiser. I open the front door and step out onto the porch, and heard the crinkle of paper under my bare foot. I bend and pick it up. It is a plain card-size envelope. I can feel the weight of the card inside. I start to open it when it is snatched out of my hand.
I jump and let out a startled yelp. I had been so caught up in the envelope, I forgot about Asher’s dad. “Crap, you scared me,” I say, looking up at Mr. James.
He chuckles. “I got that when you screamed.”
“I didn’t scream,” I defended myself. I had become close with all of Asher’s family. His parents had taken me in as one of their own. And his brothers treated me like I was the little sister they had missed out on having. Now they made up for lost time by picking on me and torturing me on a regular basis. Sometimes Asher got annoyed with them, but most of the time, he would join in on the fun of pissing me off.
Mr. James smiled like he thought I was funny then looked down at the envelope. The smile left his face quickly and his eyes came to me. “I hope you made sure to look out the peep hole before you came outside.” His tone became serious.
“I made sure,” I mumbled, hoping that this was nothing serious. I didn’t want to start living my life looking over my shoulder.
“Let’s go in and you can show me what you got and tell me about the person who dropped them off.”
“Are you going to open that?” I ask, pointing at the letter.
“When we get inside.”
We walk into the house and I close and lock the door behind us as we turn to go into the kitchen. Mr. James is standing at the kitchen island in front of the flowers. I notice that he now has on a pair of gloves. His head is bent and he is looking at the open card.
“What does it say?” I ask.
He holds it up for me to see. On the front of the card was a picture of Manhattan at night. When he opens it, I stumble back and my stomach drops. I am looking at the words written in bright red ink.
Coming events cast their shadows before
I had a vision in the summer light—
Sorrow was in it, and my inward sight
Ached with sad images. The touch of tears
Gushed down my cheeks he figured woes of years
Casting their shadows across sunny hours.
Oh, there was nothing sorrowful in flowers.
“Holy crap.” I cover my mouth and run to the hall bathroom to throw up the piece of toast that I had for breakfast and the coffee that I drank. I feel a cool rag on my neck and a hand rubbing my back.
“Are you okay?” Mr. James asks and I can hear the anger in his voice.
“Yeah,” I say, flushing the toilet. I take the rag off my neck and wipe my mouth with it. I look up into his eyes and can tell he is pissed off. I just hope he isn’t mad at me for bringing this kind of trouble to his son’s front door. “I'm so sorry,” I say, putting my face into my hands. I couldn’t figure out why this was happening to me. I felt him pull me in for a hug.
“We will figure it out. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I don’t understand why someone’s doing this to me,” I cried into his shirt. I hate it more that Asher is dealing with too. If something happened to him because of me, I don’t know what I would do. “Can you give me a minute?” I ask, pulling out of his hug and wiping my eyes.
“Sure, darling.”