by Tonya Kappes
“So, we are good then?” Sam cleared his throat.
“Yes.” Celia put her supplies away. “Let’s get to the radio station before we are late.”
She wanted to put this in the past—along with his. The sooner he healed, the quicker he’d be hers.
*
The drive to the radio station involved several deliveries, lots of hand holding and a lot about Celia’s dreams.
“I’ve always loved flowers. As you know, my grandfather was a great influence on me.” Sam delighted in her little girl excitement. “He told me all about his trip to England and the English florist. All though I’ve never been, I did a lot of research to make my shop a mock English florist.”
Sam took great pleasure in hearing about her dreams and aspirations. It was reassuring to hear other people’s dreams and how exciting it is to work towards those dreams. Sam never knew how hard to work to achieve his goals. He was told from a very young age, “you are going to be a star.” He doesn’t even remember his first commercial, pushing baby food.
*
It felt as if he had always lived here with her in her community. The wee voice in the back of mind knew he couldn’t live with the secret forever. Eventually he would have to tell her who he really was.
“Thank you, Sam, for being here.” The radio host spoke into the microphone.
“You’re welcome.” Sam looked over at Celia who had stars in her eyes.
She couldn’t stop telling him how natural he was answering questions and revealing answers about flowers she didn’t even know.
“Sam we have to know before you go, how do you know so much about flowers? Come on you’re a hunky guy.” The woman’s eye’s burned with desire.
“Let’s say I’ve always had great female influences in my life.” He flashed his million dollar smile. The girls in the studio were falling all over themselves trying to get a glimpse of the romantic hunk that was sensitive.
*
“You were great.” She leaned over and kissed his scruffy cheek. “All those girls wish they were me. But you’re mine.”
“Yes, baby, I’m yours.” He rubbed he thumb down her cheek and across her lips. “Hey, I meant to tell you that delivery at the retirement home. He talked to me. I said tulips means forgiveness and he said yes.”
“That’s all?” Celia questioned.
“Yep. I wonder who needs his forgiveness?” Sam keeps his eyes on the road. “He seems like a nice old man.”
“I hope they don’t do it soon.” Celia said with no sadness. “I’m so proud of you. You have really started to put roots down here.”
Celia’s right, Sam thought. Her hand felt soft against his fingers. He needed to call his agent and tell him he’s not coming back anytime soon, if at all.
“Aren’t you staying?” Celia looked confused and hurt when Sam didn’t get out of the truck.
“No. I have a few things to take care of. But I might be back later tonight.” He didn’t like disappointing her, but he had to take care of business if he wanted a future with her.
It was time to call Bart, his agent. Bart Grandy was the most sought agent in Los Angeles. Only the elite were his clients, and Sam was at the top.
When he turned on his phone, his Blackberry registered twenty messages. Sam was getting good at ignoring the blinking light.
“Bart.” Sam spoke calmly.
“Where are you?” Bart frantically asked. “Don’t worry about a thing. I will take care of everything. Just let me know where you are and we will get you home—quietly.”
“I’m not coming back. At least for a while.” Sam didn’t make a quiver. It was time to stand his ground.
“Oh no you won’t. You have obligations. Your new movie starts shooting in three weeks.” Bart ranted on. “Sam, remember the hoops I had to jump through so they would cast you over George Pitt?” He pleaded for Sam to listen to reason.
“Pitt can have it.” Sam was tired of the rat race. He was tired of kissing butt to get a role.
“Where are you Sam?” Bart demanded to know.
“I’m not telling you.” Sam didn’t like to be strong armed. Especially since he had a taste of freedom over the past few weeks.
“Are you on drugs?”
“No. You know I don’t touch that junk.” Sam had always taken pride in the fact he never went down that Los Angeles route. He stayed clear of drugs and the actors that did them.
“I think you’re crazy.” Bart crossed the line. “Okay, sorry for that, but you really need help. And I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are.”
“I don’t need your help.” Sam was about to let him in on a secret. “I have someone helping me.”
“It’s a girl?” Bart asked.
Celia popped into his mind. He longed for her touch. He wanted to kiss her and get close enough to smell her sweet scent. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business. You hired me to make it my business.” Bart reminded Sam. Sam did hire him years ago to take care of his affairs. “Is she preventing you from your life? From your responsibilities?” Bart struck a nerve.
“She doesn’t even know who I am.”
“Right.” Bart wasn’t buying it. “She’s waiting for her million dollar check to come in from the tabloids.”
Sam resented Bart’s comment. His voice was sharp. “She’s not like that. I’ll keep in touch.”
Sam had enough. He hung up on Bart and turned it off. She didn’t know him, he was sure of it. Celia would never turn him into the tabloids. She would confront him first, just like she did with the smiley face mug arrangement.
He was mad that Bart made him even think Celia would do such a thing. He refused to let Bart belittle what he was feeling for her. If she did know who he was, she wouldn’t care. She was getting to know the real him, not the actor. Hell, he was getting to know the real him.
*
By the time he got back to the florist, it was ten o’clock and pitch black outside. He saw a light coming out of the room where Celia creates her arrangements. She wouldn’t be able to see his lights from there. He enjoyed watching her and he could sneak around the back and do so before she knew he was there.
He watched her take the flowers out of the freezer, cut and arrange. He noticed every time she opened the freezer, she would stand with her eyes closed. He watched her chest go up as she inhaled when the door opened and relax. He liked watching her drink in their scent. He heard the door shut through the open window. The click of the scissors and the sound of trickling water were making her heart sing, and it showed on her face. He hoped some of her glow had to do with him being in her life.
“Hello?” Celia answered the phone.
Sam got a little closer. He wanted to know who was calling her so late at night. “Yes, I am going to make a payment. Please don’t start foreclosure proceedings. I will figure something out.”
Sam’s body slid down the brick. “Foreclosure?” he mouthed.
Celia never said anything ever about money or finances. Sam went back to his truck. Celia was in trouble and he needed to help her. He grabbed his Blackberry out of the glove box and turned it on.
“Bart, I’m going to make you a deal.” He’d do anything for her. Even ruin his own life.
“Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.” Bart seemed a bit more relieved.
“No. I need you to transfer two hundred thousand dollars to a cashier check and send it to the following address.”
“If I don’t?”
“I’ll back out of the movie deal.” Sam was stern. “I mean it, Bart.”
Sam gave him all the particulars.
“This Celia must be pretty special if you’re giving her money and she’s taken your mind off Bianca.” Bart wanted to know more answers, but Sam wasn’t budging.
“She was sent from Bianca. Bianca prepared me for her.” Sam would’ve never known about flowers if it weren’t for her.
Sam thought about the deal. He would h
ave to leave in three weeks just as he promised Bart. He knew leaving Celia would be hard for the both of them, but losing the shop would tear her apart, and he couldn’t live with that.
He tossed and turned all night. He couldn’t tell her who he really was. Not yet. He would slip away from her life as had slipped into her life. Losing her. Watching her life crumble before him would hurt worse.
“To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive untold peace and happiness.”
Robert Muller
13
Every week white tulips. The retirement home was filled to the brim with people. The sign out front boasted a family day that was going on. Sam wondered if the lonely guy had family.
“White tulips.” Sam handed the old man the exact same vase, week after week. Sam spoke loudly when the man shut the door in his face. “Again.”
“I said, again. I mean, week after week you get these tulips. It’s strange, man.” Sam was good at stating the facts.
“I don’t see where it’s any of your business.” The man stepped out his door and stood face to face with Sam.
“Listen, I don’t mean you any disrespect.” Sam waved his hands in the air. “But if we are going to keep meeting like this every week, I thought maybe we should get to know each other.”
The old man looked Sam up and down. Sam didn’t know what got into him. He’s never been good with old people. He was leaving in a week, unbeknownst to anyone in the town, and he wanted to know this old man’s story. His life was about stories and this guy was no different.
“Okay. I am leaving town in a week so I have one more delivery for you next week.” Sam wondered what it would be like to be here, old and alone. “Forgive who ever needs forgiven. Life is too short. Trust me I know.” Sam took a couple steps down the hallway.
“Where you going?” the man asked.
“Back in the rat race.” Sam didn’t know this guy, but he was going to miss him in a weird sort of way. He’d become fascinated and made up a story of his own. Maybe a long lost love found the old guy after years of breaking his heart and she was trying to get his forgiveness.
“You gonna break her heart?” There was a quiver in his voice.
“Who?” Sam asked, wondering if the old guy recognized him from those tabloid shows.
“Celia Marie Briggs.” The old man opened the door for Sam to enter.
As on cue, Sam walked into the man’s apartment. The kitchenette that adjoined family room was filled with vases of white tulips—dead, wilted, and alive. The family room had a couch, chair, coffee table and an entertainment stand with his television on top it. Sam glanced over at the picture sitting on the TV.
It can’t be, Sam thought and picked up the frame. He felt the blood rush away from his face. There she was. Celia and her grandfather. Sam held the photo up to his face. In shock, he showed it to the man.
“Are you Celia’s grandfather?” Sam asked the question he already knew. The tears in her grandfather’s eyes told the story. “Do you have any idea how much her life revolves around your influence? She thinks you’re dead.”
Anger swelled up in him. He put the frame back as he found it. He had to get to Celia and quick.
“Please don’t go. It wasn’t me. Please sit down. I would like to talk to you.” The man stepped between the door and Sam. His shoulders were broader than Sam’s. “You’re going to break her heart.”
“First off, you don’t know anything about me and Celia.” Sam walked back and forth between the television stand and the old man. “I have to leave for Celia.”
If he had known the old man was Celia’s grandfather, he would’ve never told him. He just wanted to know the old man’s stories. He didn’t think it was this.
“It was her mother.” He said.
The old man pulled the tea out of the refrigerator and poured two glasses. He handed one to Sam and motioned him to sit. Sam took the glass and sat down on the couch.
“My daughter didn’t like how much Cee loved my flowers.” The man gripped the glass with both his hands when he took a drink. The ice clinked against the glass. “Cee always said she wanted to open a florist and make people happy. Her mother felt it was not an honorary job. She wanted her to be a lawyer and get out of this town.”
“But why?” Sam didn’t understand. He’d give anything to have his family. All the money in the world couldn’t keep him from them if they were living.
“My daughter resented me. Cee wanted to be with me all the time and not her mother.” He stared down at his feet. His voice cracked as he spoke, “She and Marty asked me to step out of their life. Well not so much Marty. I love Celia so much, I didn’t want to make her have to choose or have her choice made for her.”
Sam couldn’t believe his ears. Celia would be so happy to know her grandfather didn’t die.
“I moved away, but got the local paper delivered to me. I keep up with what Celia had done all her life. I was at all of her milestones. Her parents saw me, but I keep my distance. I even went to her law school graduation. I read about my daughter passing and moved here.”
Sam couldn’t believe the sacrifices he made for his granddaughter. “I got my courage up to order flowers from her shop. I’m so proud of her. I didn’t know how to approach her. She always loved white tulips and they mean…”
Sam interrupted him, “forgiveness.”
“Yes, forgiveness.” He smiled at Sam.
Sam could see the resemblance between Celia and her grandfather. They way his eyes squinted when his mouth turned up was exactly like Celia’s. “I’ve watched the shop from the road and it seemed she and Marty delivered all the flowers. He always left them at the front desk.”
Sam could see in the old man actions how much he loved his granddaughter. “Why haven’t you reached out to her?”
“I am afraid to. She thinks I’m dead.”
“She needs you.” Sam said.
“It looks to me, she’s come to need you. More ways than one.” He eyeballed Sam.
“She’s in trouble.” Sam realized he didn’t even know his name. “I’m sorry. What is your name?”
“Eli.”
“Eli, our girl’s in trouble. Only she doesn’t know I know.” Sam was very comfortable around Eli. He was a good man and Sam trusted him. Sam spent over two hours telling Eli about who he was and how he got to Grandberry Falls. He also told Eli he was going to be leaving Grandberry Falls and how he agreed to do the movie if his agent would send the money to Celia anonymously.
“You are in love with my granddaughter.” Eli seemed pleased with Celia taste in men.
“Yes, I am. I never thought I could love someone other than Bianca.” Sam looked up knowing Bianca put Celia in his life. “If Bianca could’ve handpicked someone for me, it would’ve been Celia.”
Sam couldn’t imagine what the next few weeks of his life where going to be like going back to Los Angeles without Celia in his life. It made him sick thinking of it.
“I’m going to tell her I have to go back, but not about the money. She would never take it from me.” Sam knew the money would arrive any day now and he would tell her his last night in town who he really was.
“You are a good man, Sam. She will understand.” Eli understood Sam and what he had to do. “She will understand why you had to keep your identity secret.”
“She will have to make the decision on whether or not she wants to be with a movie star. It’s not an easy life. When are you going to tell her you exist?” Sam wasn’t sure how Celia would take the idea or Marty. “Does Marty know you are here?”
“He didn’t until recently. He came here to find out who the tulips were going to.” Eli stood up and looked out the window. “He had a feeling it was me. He understood why I had come back and he doesn’t disagree with me. He asks that I come into her life slowly so not to disgrace her mother. It’s important Cee understands why her mother and I didn’t get along.” Eli stared off into the distance.
“Until next week?” Sam looked into Eli’s eyes. “Maybe next week.”
“Yep, I’m faxing my order tomorrow.” Eli winked at Sam.
Sam walked out of the retirement home a different man than when he walked in. He knew Celia was going to be happy about her grandfather. She was constantly talking about him and he changed her life.
Sam knew his news was going to be equally blowing. He had to figure out a way to tell her. A way she would understand. And understand why he needed to get away. But telling her why he had to leave was going to be tricky. He didn’t want her to know he gave her the money and had to sell his soul to the devil in order for it to happen.
Sam was going to have to sleep on all he had learned today. His soul was a little lighter getting everything off his chest. He always had Bianca to bounce things off of, and Eli was more than willing to listen. Plus he wants what’s best for Celia.
Sam wondered if he went about the situation with Celia the right way. Why doubt yourself now, he questioned himself. He’d have let the cards fall as they may, and he fell in love on the way. He was determined to make it to Celia and tell her how much he loves her.
“This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”
Winston Churchill
14
The squealing tires caused Celia to drop her wire cutters to see who was barreling up her driveway. Charlie leaped around the foot of the door. Celia opened the door. Sam came running from his car.
“Celia.” Sam sighed with relief when he wrapped his arms around her. She held on for dear life when he picked her up and swung her around. “I am so glad to see you.”
Her eyes drank in his joyful expression as her head lay in the palm of his hands.
“Sam?” Celia chest bounced up and down with giggle. She didn’t understand his behavior, but she liked it. “Why are you so happy?”