Her hands began shaking again, and she could feel the anxiety creeping in like the waves on the beach she so loved to visit. Each wave of thought crept closer and closer, engulfing her in doubt, robbing her of the present moment. "Breathe" she whispered to herself, as she brought in a tray of poppies from the greenhouse. The bright sunlight that shone on her back cast iridescent rays of light on her hair which shimmered like beaten gold, causing Grace, her manager to squint against it, as she entered the shop floor. "What's the matter?" The old lady asked in the most concerned accent. "Nothing" Mary lied. "I'm just tired" she finished. Another lie. "Take those and put them on the counter" Grace replied doubtfully "There are sure to be some customers looking for these this week" she finished.
Mary obliged and made her way onto the shop floor where flowers of almost every kind filled the stands. To her left she beheld the beautiful violets and white roses that scented the isle with a concoction of sweet perfume. To her right, her eyes drank in a collage of rich red and pink that marked the roses that were freshly delivered a week since. Presently she walked down this corridor of color until she came upon the counter where she arrayed the red poppies before the till. She then busied herself with the tulips in one corner before the bell above the door chimed, admitting a young man clothed in military attire, who strode strong and handsome within the scented shop. "Excuse me Ms." the lad said in a gentle voice. Mary looked up, dropping the tulips in her hand. She felt her heart beat a little faster and noticed the room become just a little brighter. "I'm looking for-" The young man noticed the fallen tulips before he could finish, and walked pristine toward the fumbling girl.
"Let me help you with those" the young man said flashing a smile which exposed a row of pearl white teeth. The young girl pushed back a lock of curls behind her ear and blushed inconsolably. "Thank you" she croaked, as the young man picked the flowers from the floor still smiling. "My name is Henry" announced the young man, reaching out his hand. "I- I'm M- Mary" she stuttered as she too stretched out her trembling hand. The lad noticed her hand shake as it approached his. He clasped it with his left hand and engulfed what was left of it with his right before, looking into her hazel eyes. "Be at ease, nothing matters but this room! This very moment!" He said reassuringly. Mary's eyes began to well up before the young man said in a whisper "Sometimes we need someone to hold our hands even their shake"
In that moment Mary smiled like she hadn't for a good while. She felt her skin tingle and she was overcome by a profound sense of clarity much like the sun when it chases the shadows of dusk into the corners of a room. She was freed from the dark clutches of her anxiety by a kind word and a firm hand. "Even when my hand shakes" she whispered to herself, and the young man, bound by his errand procured his poppies, and left her with the gift of hope.
T.B
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