Baked in Love

by Hayden Hunt

  But maybe it didn’t come from someone I knew. Maybe it came from someone she knew, who knew how hard this would be for me.

  This made everything so much more real. For the first time in weeks, I could feel tears welling up in the corner of my eyes. I didn’t want to be faced with the reality of my situation. I did everything in my power to avoid it.

  I threw the card away and tried to ignore my feelings for a bit. I’d probably throw the whole damn bouquet away, too, if it was any smaller. I didn’t want any reminder of what had happened.

  I opened a new box to unpack and got about halfway through it. But the pit in the bottom of my stomach kept threatening me. As much as I wanted to deny my emotions, I couldn’t deny how sick I was now feeling.

  I started bawling on the couch. It was like everything I avoided was hitting me all at once.

  I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t organize. I couldn’t focus on what I needed to get done. For the moment, all I could do was be in pain.

  And cry. I could cry… a lot.

  14

  Oliver

  I had gotten to the shop early this morning, I wanted to go over all the deliveries early so that I could make a special arrangement.

  This was something I didn’t often have time to do. Make flower arrangements exactly as I wanted to, I mean. I had enough deliveries to keep me busy and I had to follow those arrangement requests to a tee. People were very picky about their flowers.

  But today I was going to make the time. It was a good creative outlet for me. Of course, all flower arranging was a creative outlet, but this in particular was extra enjoyable to me. I got to let my mind run wild, make a new masterpiece that I hadn’t yet created. It was my favorite part of the job.

  And I actually had a good excuse to do it today. I had someone in particular in mind when making this arrangement.

  Evidently, I had a new neighbor move into my apartment complex last night. I also happened to be having a small get together with a few friends and apparently we kept him awake that night.

  He was kind of rude about the whole thing, definitely ruder than I would have been, but I still felt bad. When you lived in an apartment complex, there was this basic understanding that you’d be polite enough to keep the noise level down. Which I wasn’t at all, admittedly. I’d be the first to admit that when me and my friends got a little alcohol in us, we were quite loud.

  To be fair, though, I really didn’t think about being rude. The older woman who lived in the apartment before this new neighbor moved in never complained once. She couldn’t hear well. Sweet old lady, too, she was a total doll. I tried to make small talk in the hallway with her whenever possible.

  And because I had no other neighbor on my left side, it hadn’t occurred to me to watch the noise at all. It just never was a problem. Before living next to the older woman, I was very careful about how loud I was.

  I actually told the new neighbor that last night, but it only made the situation worse. It came out all wrong. I thought he believed I was complaining about no longer having the hard of hearing neighbor. And I could see how he’d think that, and how rude that would come off.

  But it wasn’t what I meant at all! If anything, I was just trying to justify my own rudeness. Anyway, I had made a whole mess of that encounter and this flower arrangement was going to be the way I made it up to him.

  Or attempted to, at least. To be honest, he didn’t seem very interested in making friends. But I really tried to make it a habit to be friendly to all my neighbors.

  I was someone who hated conflict. Absolutely loathed it; it made me so uncomfortable. If I had any problems with another person, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It ate at me until I got things resolved.

  Hence me making a very expensive bouquet of flowers for a complete stranger just to smooth things over. And I really had my fingers crossed that it would work because I couldn’t imagine being comfortable in my living situation if I had someone who actually hated me living next door. It was too much stress.

  Plus, if I was being honest, he was a pretty cute guy, too. Blonde hair, thin but you could still see some muscle definition through his pajamas, a serious but sultry face. If we had met in better circumstances, I might have asked him out on a date.

  Not that I had any reason to suspect he was gay. I didn’t, I knew nothing about him. But that’d never stopped me before.

  I didn’t think anything of asking a straight man out. Not that I wanted to pressure straight men into dating me or make them uncomfortable, I didn’t. But it was impossible to tell! So in my mind, if someone wasn’t gay they could just let me know and I’d move on. And if they were, then I might have a date out of it.

  I lived in a very liberal part of the country so, thankfully, it wasn’t like I had to worry about getting many negative reactions from straight men. I knew in certain places, offending a straight man by hitting on them may well get you into a physical altercation. But I’d never had an issue where I lived. A few men seemed a little bothered but they just acted standoffish and I brushed them off. It hadn’t been a big deal.

  I wouldn’t ask my neighbor out anyway, though. Not just because I pissed him off so thoroughly. But because it’d be awkward if things didn’t work out. I’d have to keep seeing him every day when I left the house. I’d pass on that.

  Especially with my track record. My relationships didn’t last long typically. I dudn’t have any kind of tragic string of relationships or anything.

  In fact, I felt I’d been pretty lucky. My relationships had never been very dramatic. But I kept it casual and short and moved on quickly. Maybe that was why they weren’t dramatic, actually. I didn’t give anyone long enough to get dramatic.

  I liked it that way, though. I had no plan to keep things in my life casual forever. I hoped that eventually I’d find someone I really liked and I’d be willing to get more serious with them. But it hadn’t happened yet.

  The delivery driver working the morning shift popped up in the shop just as I was finishing my arrangement.

  “Hey, you’re on morning shift today?” he asked. I usually wasn’t.

  “Yeah, my dad had a doctor’s appointment so they’re going to close up tonight,” I told him.

  This was a family run shop. My parents were both florists and growing up I always knew I wanted to be involved in their business. It was always the plan that I’d be taking over for them eventually.

  Most people would be turned off by working for their parents while in their twenties. But I wasn't at all. I had a fantastic relationship with my parents and I got paid more than enough to have financial freedom. Not to mention the money I’d be making when I eventually took over the business completely.

  And this way, even while I was moved out and on my own, I got to maintain a very close relationship with both of them. They were my biggest cheerleaders in life and I loved them dearly.

  “So, I’ve got a last minute delivery for you, in addition to the list today,” I told him.

  “Okay, no problem, where to?”

  “My apartment complex, actually,” I told him. “Apartment number 23.”

  “Number 23, you said?” He pulled out a pen. “Here, let me jot that down.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “Is that where this gorgeous thing is going?” he asked, nodding to the arrangement.

  “Yeah, do you like it? It’s kind of an apology bouquet, so I wanted it to look special.”

  “It’s absolutely gorgeous.” He smiled. “I’ll put it in the van now. Any note to go with it?”

  “Oh, shit, hold on.” I pulled out one of our cards and wrote down a quick apology. I hadn’t gotten his name last night and I never gave him mine, so I left the names out. I’d just drop by his apartment on the way home and let him know it was me, as awkward as that may be.

  “Here you go.” I placed the card into the flowers and handed him the vase. “Make sure he gets it, okay?”

  “Will do.” He smiled.
/>   I spent the rest of the afternoon doing some inventory work and ordering ribbons and other supplies we were low on. I closed up shop at 1 pm, as we always did. We took an hour for lunch every day.

  Which was never a problem, being the small flower boutique that we were. We didn’t have a very big stream of customers, and we were pretty low key. But we managed to stay afloat because we were the most expensive flower shop in town.

  And for good reason. We had the highest quality flowers and the most intricate arrangements. Artistically, no other shop in town matched us. So for our more affluent clients, it was worth it to come to us instead of the other shops just for the aesthetic. And I was sure bragging rights helped. People loved showing off their wealth and we were definitely branded as the expensive flower shop.

  After closing for our hour lunch, I went home for the day. There was no point not to; it would be my parents who later opened it back up for the evening. Which was another perk of my job—I only worked half days.

  On my way up to my apartment, I could feel my heart starting to pound. I had to stop by my new neighbor’s place and I had no idea how it was going to go. But at the same time, I was desperate to get this done. I wanted to know if the conflict was resolved or not.

  I knocked on the door nervously, fidgeting and tapping my foot as I waited for him to answer.

  When he came to the door, he was looking as cute as last night but noticeably more tired. Shit, I hoped I hadn’t continued to be loud and keep him up all night. If so, this conversation probably wasn’t going to go my way no matter what I did. Even though I honestly did tell my friends to shut up after that and carefully monitored how loud we were speaking.

  “Hey there.” I smiled. “I just wanted to drop by and apologize for last night.”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I really overreacted. I hope you know I’m not usually like that. I’m not a total dick.”

  I was relieved to hear him say that. Good, so it sounded like this wouldn’t be much of a conflict at all!

  “Oh, it was totally understandable! I really should be more quiet. Like I said, the old lady that used to live here really never said anything so it was not something I thought about. But I will in the future.”

  He cringed at hearing this and I got a little nervous again. Shit, I shouldn’t have brought her up once more. He probably thought I was trying to say I’d rather have her back again. I quickly changed the subject.

  “Did you get my flowers?” I asked.

  “Your flowers?” he questioned, looking completely surprised. “You sent that bouquet?”

  “Yeah, to apologize for last night. Sorry, I would have included my name but I hadn’t told you it yet.” I extended my hand for a shake. “I’m Oliver.”

  “Hey, Oliver,” he answered. “I’m Gabe. Nice to meet you. And thank you for the flowers, but it was really, truly not necessary.”

  “Oh, it was no problem at all. The least I could do for keeping you up last night.”

  “Seriously, you didn’t have to do anything. You were very polite and I was being an ass. And it looked like an expensive bouquet. I feel guilty you felt you needed to do that.”

  “Don’t!” I said quickly. “It was no trouble at all, seriously. I’m actually a florist so it cost me nothing. Well, technically the cost of the flowers, but that isn’t much.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Florist, huh? That’s not something you hear every day. I don’t think I’ve ever met a florist.”

  “We’re a dying breed.” I smiled.

  “Does that mean you actually put that bouquet together?”

  “Oh, yes! And I really enjoyed doing it.”

  “Well, I enjoy looking at it. You did an amazing job.” He paused, as if thinking. “Uh, the place is still a mess and covered in boxes, but would you like to come in for some tea or something?”

  “I’d love to!”

  15

  Gabriel

  I didn’t know why I invited him in. That was so unlike me. But I don’t know, he seemed really nice and I could have used a friend. At the very least, I could make sure my relationship with my neighbors wasn’t awful.

  I was embarrassed, though, so it wasn’t the best timing. I had to keep myself from blushing or allowing my face to show confusion. That wasn’t where I thought the bouquet came from at all. It was so extravagant, it never even crossed my mind that he’d send that just to say sorry about talking too loud.

  Of course, I shouldn’t have been embarrassed. He had no idea that I had confused the flower delivery. But I still felt so stupid, crying for hours over a flower delivery that was actually about a noise complaint.

  I was damn glad now that I didn't toss those flowers, though.

  “Is green tea fine?” I asked him. Thankfully, I had gotten the kitchen unpacked yesterday.

  “Green tea is perfect, thanks so much,” he said as he sat at my dining room table. “And thanks for being so great about this.”

  “No problem at all. Like I said, I was the only one who had anything to apologize for.” I put a tea kettle on the stove and grabbed some mugs for us. “So, florist, huh? How’d you get into that?”

  “Oh, it’s a family business, actually. Both my parents were florists; they have their own shop in town and I followed in the family footsteps.”

  “So, you enjoy it, then?”

  “Absolutely. It really satisfies that creative desire I have, you know?”

  I didn’t know. I had no creative desires. I couldn’t so much as take a photograph without somehow getting a blurry shot or having my thumb in the frame. There was no artistic bone in my body. But I nodded as if I could relate, anyway.

  “So, what do you do?”

  “I’m an office manager at a dental practice, actually.”

  “Oh, that’s great! Very professional. A manager at your age, huh? That’s wonderful!” He paused. “Wait, I’m kind of assuming here because I don’t know your age but I’m guessing mid-twenties.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m twenty-six. What about you?”

  “Twenty-seven,” he answered. “So just a year apart, then?”

  “Sounds like,” I said as I grabbed the red tea kettle, which was now screeching on the stove, and poured it into our mugs, where I had already placed a bag of tea.

  “Thank you,” he said as I handed him his mug.

  “But yeah, it does pay the bills,” I continued. “How do you like this complex, by the way?”

  “Love it!” he said eagerly. “It feels safe, there are no obnoxious people living in here that I’ve noticed, obviously the apartments are sized pretty nicely.” He motioned to the living room and kitchen, which were pretty large for a place of this price. “It’s great, you’ll love it here.”

  “I hope so.” I nodded. “This will actually be my first time living without a roommate so, you know, I’m feeling like I’m finally adulting now.”

  He laughed. “And what brings you to these apartments in particular?”

  I tried to hide the discomfort on my face. “Just… fate, I guess,” I said.

  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

  “Well, I’m sure you’re going to love it. Do you have many friends in this town? I don’t know how far your commute is for work.”

  “About 40 minutes now and, no, no friends in this town.”

  Actually, no friends in any town, but he didn’t need to know that little detail.

  “Well, you know, I have a get together with some of my friends every Wednesday. You’re welcome to come over, maybe meet some new people.”

  “That would be great, actually. Thank you”!

  Normally I wouldn’t find this great at all. I had no idea what was coming over me. But all of a sudden, I just felt the need to socialize. Maybe it was because of how depressed I’d been feeling. I was eager to break out of this shell of numbness, if that was even possible.

  Though I suspected it wa
s. For the few minutes I’d been talking to Oliver, I actually was feeling a lot better. A little more out of my head, I guess you could say.

  Oliver glanced around the room. “Do you need any help unpacking?” he asked politely.

  God, this guy was nice. Why had I been such a jack ass last night?

  “No, I’ll be fine. I actually really enjoy this kind of thing. I’m kind of type-A.” I left out the fact that I wasn’t feeling very type-A at the moment.

  “Really? God, I hate that. I hate cleaning, hate organizing, my mind is just not designed for that kind of thing. I avoid it at all costs.”

  “Then why did you just offer?” I teased.

  “To be a friendly neighbor, of course,” he said with a cheeky smile.

  Was he flirting with me? That was kind of what it felt like, but I couldn’t be sure.

  As reserved as I was, I was no stranger to flirting. At least, I was used to women hitting on me. I didn’t really reciprocate. But without sounding too conceited, I knew I was an attractive guy. So it happened.

  But I didn’t know. I’d never been the type to pursue a relationship. I hadn’t found anybody who really caught my attention. And if you didn’t feel enthusiastic about being with someone, what was the point?

  Realistically, relationships were hard. They involved a lot of compromise, a lot of consideration for your partner’s needs and feelings. And I’d never met someone worth altering my life for. So I was polite when women came up and flirted with me, while trying to be clear that they were pretty much wasting their time.

  The look that Oliver was giving me now reminded me of the looks I got from flirty women. Who knew, maybe he was gay and he actually was flirting.

  The weird thing was, this actually felt a little fun for me. Usually when a woman hit on me, I got kind of bored and uncomfortable with the situation. But now I found myself smiling back, trying to think of something clever to say in response.

  But I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t into men. I decided that a long time ago. My positive reception to his flirtation said nothing about my sexuality. I was completely straight.