Hibiscus

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I lock the front door and grasp Eva’s hand and we begin the three-minute walk to the bus stop. Walking past the little garden in front of the house, she extends her hand to the hibiscus plant and plucks a flower. She did the same yesterday - and two days ago.

“Why did—” I start to talk and stop myself.

Would she give it to me again?

She holds it as if it’s breakable till we reach the school.

I kiss her cheek. “I love you.”

“Bye, Mom.”

My eyes are fixed on the horse art on her backpack as she runs toward her class. Then she stops, turns, extending the flower to me as she returns. I take a few steps forward and collect it. She leaves.

Unlike yesterday and two days ago, I keep it. She’s only five, but I believe - there’s a meaning.

On our way home in the afternoon—on the bus—I put my mouth close to her ear and say, “I still have the flower.”

She looks at me and smiles. “I’ll give you another one tomorrow.”

“Why?”

She says nothing, blinking her innocent eyes.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“Last week I took a flower,” she says. “And when we got to my school, you collected it. In the afternoon we found Teddy. I want the flower to bring me another puppy; I want to have two.”

I pull her close. “Well, it’s just a coincidence that you plucked the flower, and we found him at our doorstep.”

***

As I unlock the front door, Eva says loudly, “Mom, see!” I turn and she’s pointing toward the hibiscus plant. There’s a puppy lying under it.

Word Count - 284


#story-300words A short story initiative by @swissclive (stories under 300 words).

Image source: Pixabay

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