GRAM WAS STANDING BY HER BICYCLE at the front of the store with flowers in her hand. Today it was roses. Three of every colour from the cold room. There were fifteen blooms in the bouquet. The perfume swirled through the air, permeating it with a scent of damask with crushed violet leaves and a hint of lemon. I frowned. I was more of a florist than I thought. I looked down at my steel-capped work boots and uttered a silent apology.

‘Look at you, Gram ... happiness shining out of you!’ I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She was the colour of bumble bee yellow today, exuding cheerfulness. ‘I love that song Gramps is singing.’ It was muffled by the closed store, yet easily heard.

Gram looked at me and paused. She frowned, then turned her right ear towards the store doors, lowered her head and listened.

A contagious smile spread over her beautiful face. ‘Me too. Una Furtiva Lagrima from the Italian opera L’elisir d’amore, Act 2.’

My smiled disappeared as I watched a tear slip down her cheek.

‘I remember the first time I heard him sing it ... I sneaked into a rehearsal like a thief in the night and stood behind the side curtains. I closed my eyes and soaked in every note, every word, every nuance. His voice transcended time and place. When he finished, the cast and crew were spellbound, and took a while to snap out of it. A slow clap started, but you could see they were still affected—an attack on the emotions—in the most beautiful way. I still can’t believe our life paths collided. God smiled down on us when we first met.’ Gram brushed a tear away and placed the roses into the bicycle basket.

I loved listening to her love stories. They gave me hope and a little bit of light in the darkness of the violent male world I had encountered on that terrible day of the scars.  

I opened the door of the store and Grampapa’s loud singing voice penetrated me. I paused in my step, so thankful Gram and Gramps were my grandparents. I looked over at Darcy. He was polishing cutlery. He gave me a wink.

I skipped over to Grampapa and wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his comforting scent of wood and leather, reminding me of horse riding lessons when I was young. He was the colour of earth brown—a simple life, good friends and happiness.

He stopped singing. ‘Yolande, the morning is beautiful, eh?’

‘More so with you belting out a tune and Gram smiling!’

‘I know. We’ve decided that she’ll have no more vertigo attacks. And that is that!’ Gramps smiled at me. His words were convincing, but his eyes betrayed him.

A sadness vibrated through me. I needed to change the subject. ‘It looks like a storm is brewing this morning, which is odd, this early in spring.’

‘Yes, but not unheard of. I guess you’re shielded from the weather conditions while you work in those gigantic industrial structures.’

‘Classified information, sorry. Please keep singing while I get on with my job list.’ I stood on my tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at me. ‘Thanks for being here for Grams.’

‘How could I not, after she got me through ... you know ...’ I still couldn’t speak about it, about the time when my scars came into being. No one knew of the exact details of the entire incident of what had happened on that terrible day. Except the police and the judge. I closed my eyes for a second and saw Mia’s hand gripping mine. Covered in blood. My blood ...

I cleared my throat and headed to gather my apron, then went to the sales desk. I glanced at the note from Xander yesterday, and picked it up.

Dear Andi,

You misunderstand me.

I need that bike.

Name the price.

Xander

I folded it and put it away, then reread the reply note I had written.

Dear Xander,

You misunderstand me.

The bike cannot be exchanged for $$$.

Andi

Had I been too harsh?

No. I folded the note in half and walked towards the front doors. Gram passed me on the way. She didn’t appear to see me. She kept her head ultra-still and her eyes focussed in front of her. Odd.

Outside, I tucked the note into the roses, ensuring enough was sticking out so Xander would see it. I wondered what time he passed by Flowers for Fleur, and whether it was a regular occurrence. I shrugged my shoulders. For a guy like him, coming by Gram’s store would purely be to acquire the bike. Otherwise he wouldn’t give the flower store the time of day.

I walked back into the store. It was quiet, for now. Gramps was over at the workbench of flower imagination talking to Gram. He gathered a box full of bouquets and headed out the back door, no doubt to deliver them.

Darcy walked by with a cup of tea for Gram. The aroma of a citrusy blend of tea caught my attention. Then I watched as she waved it away. I frowned. Gram never refused a cup of tea at this time of the morning. In fact, she never waved away anything gifted to her ... ever.

I looked at her with more intent. Some of the incandescent inner light that shone from her face had faded. She was no longer a pink person of warmth and affection, or a bumble bee yellow of cheerfulness. She was a shade of orange like a light amber honey. Fear and anxiety. I had to stay attuned to her.

After scrubbing the fifteenth flower container, I wandered over to the double French doors and opened them for the beginning of the business day. It was 8.30am.

I stepped out onto store frontage and walked closer to the road and looked up at the heavy clouds. I could smell the sweet, pungent zing of a storm. A spot of rain fell onto the centre of my forehead. I inhaled sharply at the memory of a red drop of blood that fell onto Mia’s forehead, then stiffened when I felt a sharp electrifying shock of anxiety. I let out my breath through pursed lips to calm the feeling, and concentrated on being present in the moment—not looking back at the past, nor into the future— but to the here and now. I listened to the sounds around me, and at that moment, the rain began to fall.

There was a flash of bright lightning, followed by the vibrating boom of thunder and a heavy downpour. The street became mayhem while people ran about seeking shelter, including under the awning of Flowers for Fleur, where the smell of fresh coffee wafted out and lured people inside.

I looked to my right at the sound of pounding feet and splashing puddles. A dark-haired man in his twenties was taking a direct route towards me for shelter from the deluge. He stopped beside me, puffing, and ran his hand through his drenched dark hair. Three years ago, I would have melted at his sight and gone all gooey. But not now, not after that terrible day of the scars ...

I looked back at the storm clouds. ‘The coffee smells good. We might be here for a while,’ I said. I had learnt the power of suggestion was a valuable tool with selling. Invite them into the store, and they were more likely to purchase something.

‘If one had time,’ he said. He lowered his head for a moment, his eyes on the ground, then smirked. He looked back up, pulled his backpack over his head and ran into the rain.

Gram was at the sales desk tending to customers when I returned inside. To the right, Darcy was flat out with a very long line of eager coffee and tea drinkers. I headed over to help Darcy. This was no time for a one-man barista show.

He uttered a thousand thanks as I took over taking the orders. After thirty minutes, I had a moment to look at Gram. She seemed flustered, and anxious, rubbing her hands together. I had never seen her act that way before. She was always cool, calm and collected.

I put my hand on Darcy’s arm. ‘Gram needs my help. Sorry to abandon you.’

Darcy looked up at Gram while he was making a latte. He pressed his lips into a hard line. ‘Absolutely, and please don’t apologise.’

‘Thanks, Darcy! You’re one in seven billion.’

‘No problem.’

I pulled out my cell phone while I walked towards Gram. ‘Hi, Charlotte. I need you to come in to work as soon as possible. Gram’s not well.’

I stopped on Gram’s left side. ‘I’ll take over now, Gram. Darcy has everything under control in the café.’

Gram didn’t move. She didn’t even look my way. I walked around to her right side. ‘I’ll take over now, Gram. Darcy has everything under control in the café.’

Gram turned her body towards me like her head was fused in place. It was an odd, robotic type of movement. ‘That would be wonderful, Landi. I think I will sit down in the office for a bit.’ Her voice was flat, not the cheerful, uplifting voice we were used to.

I watched her walk away. There was no bounce in her step. It was almost a smooth shuffle, and looked like an attempt to walk without making any body movement of any kind. My skin burned. When I heard the office door click, I turned to the next customer.

‘I was wondering if you sold umbrellas?’ she asked.

What? This is a flower shop with a café! I took a calming breath. ‘What a brilliant idea! No umbrellas, but I could probably find you a large sheet of plastic to use, like a poncho?’

‘I’ll take it, please. I have an important meeting.’

‘Sure,’ I said, and went to the storeroom. I returned with ten plastic sheets. I gave one to the woman and had some spare to hand out to others requesting umbrellas, then wrote down “order floral print umbrellas” on the to-do list.

I looked up when Charlotte rushed in and grabbed her apron.

‘That was quick!’ I said. She was the colour of yellow, like sunflowers, smiling at the sun as it threw beams of unending joy, life, happiness and vitality.

‘I was at Henry’s Hooter, the bakery. I’ll take over the sales desk. I don’t have a flair for creating bouquets of flowers like you and your gram.’

‘Thanks. You’re a Godsend! I’m going to check on Gram.’ I gave Charlotte a quick hug.

I walked around the corner to Gram’s office and tapped on the door, twice, before I opened it. I took one step inside and stopped in my tracks. Gram was sitting in her chair, staring at the wall with a look of terror on her face. She neither turned her head towards me, nor moved her eyes to look at me.

‘Get me a bucket, now!’ Gram’s voice was a rough whisper.

I didn’t answer. I walked briskly through the shop on light footsteps in my safety boots. I didn’t want to alarm any customers, so I added a small smile to my face: a fake small smile. I was good at those. I’d had three years practise at it.

I went to the storeroom and grabbed a bucket then hightailed it back to Gram, closed the door behind me and approached her from the side. I placed it on the desk in front of her, remembering her fury when I stood in her line of vision the last time she had a vertigo episode.

Gram blinked slowly, shaking, then vomited. Violently. Relentlessly.

I covered my mouth with my hand. No one should ever see their grandparent like that. She eased herself back into her sitting position, her eyes still focussed on a spot on the wall.

‘Damn this vertigo to hell!’ Her voice was angry, low and rough. I had never heard her speak that way.

A chill travelled down my spine and I wanted to look for a place to hide. I started to tremble. ‘I’m calling Gramps. You need to go home.’

‘No! I can’t move! It makes it wor—’ She vomited again. Almost choking. ‘I can’t do this anymore ... I can’t do this ... anymore.’ Her repeated words were whispered, but they bellowed through me like a freight train and hit me in the stomach, winding me.

‘I’ll get another bucket,’ I said, and swallowed the bile in my throat.

‘Do that, Yolande, but don’t you dare call Gramps! He doesn’t need to know about this. A tear ran down her face.

I held my breath to stop a sob from escaping from me, and left her office. I went to the storeroom and sat on the floor and pulled my knees to my chest and rocked to and fro for a moment, then pulled my phone from my pocket and dialled a number. ‘Gramps ... it’s Gram—’

The call went dead. He had hung up on me.

I looked at my phone then placed it back into my pocket. I hated defying Gram. But the situation was desperate. I slowly stood, pulled myself together and found another bucket. I returned to the office where I replaced her used bucket with a clean one. Gram didn’t look at me. She didn’t talk.

‘Do you want me to hold your hand?’ I asked. That is what she wanted the last time she was spinning ...

She took a deep, slow breath. ‘Not today. I just want to be alone with this beast in this damn nightmare.’

I raised my chin and looked at her, stopping myself from ugly crying. ‘Okay ... I’ll come and check on you in ten minutes.’ I held in my sob, once again.

‘Make it thirty.’

I nodded my head, not that she could see me. ‘I’ll be here.’ I took one last look at Gram staring at the wall, then left her office, with burning skin and a churning stomach. I closed the door with a faint click. In my mind, I saw Gram as the victim of the colour of black, which was like a panther, stalking its prey while it built up its appetite to devour its meal, taunting until the victim was on its knees, begging for mercy.

I released a heavy sigh. Why couldn’t the vertigo be stopped? Surely there was a magic pill she could swallow to return her to her normal self? I looked down at my steel-capped boots—my personal protection from a physical attack. But what was there to protect a person from an attack from the inside—from your own body, or your own mind?

I walked to Gram’s workbench. I couldn’t look at Darcy or Charlotte. That would be my undoing. I opened Gram’s order book. There was one more order to create. A bouquet for “Get Well”. Apt.

I fumbled as I searched for a foam holder and knocked over a vase. It splintered as it hit the floorboards. I reached for the dust pan and brush and swept up the glass. But not without cutting myself. I stood and wrapped my fingers around the cut to stop the blood, feeling faint. But I didn't hold my finger tight enough. Blood ran down my finger and dripped onto the work bench. The same hand that once held another’s.

I should never have let go of Mia’s’ hand ...

In a mad panic to starve off a major anxiety attack that would send me running to the powder room, I searched for the adhesive bandages in a container. I reached for one and applied it to my finger, tightly—wound covered. Blood stopped. Good.

Nausea swam in my stomach. ‘Breathe ...’ I whispered, ‘... in for a count of three, and out for a count of five ... stop,’ I said, ‘distraction.’ I finished clearing the glass on the floor and wiped the blood from the work bench. I shook my head to stop it swirling with light-headedness. This was not a good day.

Distraction. I flicked through a florist magazine and searched for a recipe of flowers for “Get Well”. I found a pink floral arrangement that would be perfect. I headed to the cold room and collected two pink roses that had a strong fruity raspberry scent, two pink lilies that smelled of honey, two pink gerberas and three pink daisies, plus some decorative greenery. I worked with diligence cutting and placing the floral elements into the rounded foam. Then lowered them into a white ceramic container. It was ready to go. I photographed it and called a delivery service.

I startled as Gramps flew in the back door. He stopped and glanced around the store, then he made his way to the office in haste. I followed behind, my heart trying to thump through my chest.

He turned the door knob and pushed the door open with care while I held my breath.

‘Where is she, Yolande?’ Grampapa’s voice was frantic, accusing.

My eyes widened. She was sitting in her office chair when I left her. I looked over Grampapa’s shoulder and gasped. Gram was gone. ‘She was ... I ... I—’

Gramps turned and walked with large steps towards the powder room. I stepped in front of him and entered first, in case there were any women attending to their needs. All the doors were open except one. I looked down from the door and gasped at the sight of Gram’s legs protruding from under it.

‘Gram,’ I said, my voice trembling. My heart raced.

Gramps was behind me then. ‘How long has she been here—on the toilet floor—of all places!’ He was angry, like the colour of dark red, ready to infiltrate everything around it.

‘Leave me be. I don’t want to move,’ Gram said. Her voice was weak.

‘Go get the screw driver set, Andi,’ Gramps ordered.

I left the powder room and went to the sales desk. I pulled open the draw and picked up the screw driver set. ‘Don’t ask,’ I whispered to Charlotte, then returned to Gram and Gramps.

I held on to the toilet door while Gramps removed the screws of the hinges. He then lifted the door off and placed it to the side. Gram was sprawled on the tiled floor, staring at one place on the tiled wall.

Gramps ran his hand over his contorted face. ‘Fleur ... my darling ...’ His voice was tender. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

‘It’s nearly finished. I can tell. The spinning’s not so furious now. If you leave me alone here for a little while longer ...’

Gramps sat on the floor beside her, still holding her hand. ‘Yeah, well ... you’re stuck with me now. Yolande has everything under control with the store.’ Gramps gestured for two glasses of water.

When I returned with the glasses he took them, then waved me off. I hung a “cleaning in progress” sign on the door to stop people entering. Gram most definitely would not want people seeing her this way.

I put my hand to my chest. My heart was breaking. Not only for Gram, but for Gramps as well. I hated seeing him distressed. How could my safe, comforting grandparents, who were my pillars of strength, become shattered messes of ruins that left me standing, grappling for something to hang on to that was no longer there?

I held in a sob and touched my scar through the top of my dress, then walked out the front of the store for some much needed fresh air. The rain had stopped and the sun had broken through the clouds. I shook my head in disbelief. What was this monster attacking Gram?

I lifted my face to the golden sun to absorb every beam of its life-giving energy. I needed it to keep going. I felt so useless. There was nothing I could do to help Gram when she was spinning.

When I turned to enter Flowers for Fleur, a new note in the flowers of the bicycle caught my eye. I detoured from the store entry, picked it up and opened it.

Dear Andi,

It’s for a loved one.

Xander

I closed my eyes. Maybe this Xander did have a heart?