A bouquet of flowers with a few buds in it might seem a waste. Most want the pizzazz a fistful of blooms delivers. They need the flash to make amends for something they’ve done or to grease the wheels for something they want to do. Jack didn’t see it that way at all – no sir. To Jack, those buds will be ready to pop when the original blooms start to wane and lose their luster.
He’d spent hours looking for the perfect assortment of blooms and buds in their varying stages before making his purchase and heading home. Jack pulled the spent flowers from the crystal vase as he did each week and set them aside for the compost pile. He felt like Goldilocks adjusting the water temperature…not too hot…not too cold…just right. A dash of bleach, a little sugar, and some fresh lemon juice rounded-out the life-extending concoction before he gave the stems a fresh cut.
The TV tray next to the bed didn’t provide the best presentation and Jack hated that. Yes, she could see them but the dresser would be better…more proper. He finally accepted he’d have to rearrange the room before the next one so they’d be visible from the closet.