Cal sent a dozen Pink Roses to his Mother.
She
liked the traditional flower for Valentine’s Day, and he knew his father always
went for the red.
If he hadn’t known, Amy Yost in the flower shop would have
reminded him, as she did every blessed year.
“Your dad ordered a dozen red last week, for
delivery today, potted geranium to his grandma,and he sent the Valentine’s Day
Sweetheart Special to your sisters.”
“That suck-up,” Cal said, knowing it would
make Amy gasp and giggle. “How about a dozen yellow for my gran. In a vase,
Amy. I don’t want her to have to fool with them.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. I’ve got Essie’s address on
file, you just fill out the card.”
He picked one out of the slot, gave it a minute’s
thought before writing:Hearts are red, these roses are yellow. Happy
Valentine’s Day from your best fellow.
Corny, sure, he decided, but Gran would love
it.
Blood Brothers
___________________
Romance That Doesn't Break the Bank: How to Save on Valentine's Day
Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and Cupid has his bow pointed right at you— or rather, right at your wallet.
According to a recent study
by the National Retail Federation, 54.8 percent of consumers are
expected to celebrate the lovers' holiday, and spend a total of $19.7
billion.
Here are some tips on getting the biggest bang for your V-day buck.
___________________
“You
sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day.”
“I hear my mother calling,” Layla announced.
“Coming, Mom!” She made a fast exit.
“You sent me tulips that look like blooming
candy canes on Valentine’s Day.”
“They looked like fun.”
“That’s what you wrote on the card. ‘These
look like fun.’ Wow.” She scooped a hand through her hair. “I have to say that
I’m a sensible woman, who knows very well Valentine’s Day is a commercially
generated holiday designed to sell greeting cards, flowers, and candy.”
“Yeah, well.” He slid his hands into his
pockets. “Works.”
“And I’m not the type of woman who goes all
mushy and gooey over flowers, or sees them as an apology for an argument, a
prelude to sex, or any of the other oft-perceived uses.”
“I just saw them, thought you’d get a kick out
of them. Period. I’ve got to get to work.”
“But,” she continued and moved toward him,
“strangely, I find none of that applies in the least in this particular case.
They are fun.” She rose up on her toes, kissed his cheek. “And they’re
beautiful.” Then his other cheek. “And thoughtful.” Now his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Blood Brothers
