A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Eight : The Sister's Fierce Protection

"Me too," I murmured and went behind the counter placidly. "So which flowers do you want?"

"I don't know." She shot up from the chair and tapped her feet. "Anything good will do, I guess . . . The thing is that my sister and her husband had this petty fight and now my sister's at home, refusing to go back to Simon and determined for a divorce."

"But it's been barely five days since they got married," I pointed out and Eliza clasped her hands together dramatically.

"Exactly! They haven't even gone to their honeymoon yet!" she exclaimed and glided over to the roses section. She perused through the colourful roses and picked a white rose, holding it near her nose, she slowly inhaled the fragrance. "So my sister's being silly and Simon wants her back and is trying to woo her with gifts and flowers and that's why I'm here to help him out."

"Hope it gets alright, they're newlyweds. I have heard that the early days of marriage are the most blissful years," I said and smiled wistfully. "Which flowers do you want?"

"I'll just take these white roses, do you have a bouquet of them?" She stroked the rose-like she was stroking a cat.

"Yeah, Logan the bouquet--- " and before I could complete my sentence, Logan had already retrieved the bouquet of white roses from the basket. "Is that alright, Liz?"

"Yep, this will do," she chirped and took a step closer to Logan who was holding the bouquet. "There's a note attached to the pink ribbon. JJ, do you have a pen? Simon sucks at writing so I might as well write a love note for my sister."

"Here." I leaned over the counter and handed the pen to Eliza who seemed to be in deep thought.

"What should I write?"

"Logan will help you, he has written such notes for other customers too," I piped in and Logan glared at me. Eliza handed him the pen and he grudgingly took it. I turned to Eliza and questioned, "What nickname has Simon given to your sister?"

"Basic, Kat for Katherine," Eliza said bluntly and Logan placed the bouquet with the note on the counter. He bent down and then started to write neatly, 'Kat, my love, I'm sorry I was a,' he stopped and started drawing something. I leaned forward to look and noticed that he had drawn a poop emoji.

Eliza giggled childishly and said, "That'll work, thanks, Logan."

Logan grouched something under his breath, but his cheeks had turned the lightest shade of pink.

He wrapped the bouquet in another sheet of glossy paper while Eliza paid. I returned her change and she murmured, almost to herself, "Hope they get over this frivolous fight because it's hard to find true love these days."

"Erm . . . yeah." I shifted uncomfortably since I knew what she was implying by that. Six months ago, when Eliza was diagnosed with cancer, her boyfriend had broken up with her because he had apparently freaked out. It was a messy breakup, right in the middle of the cancer news. Later, he did come and apologise and wanted her back desperately, but it was too late. Eliza was broken and her self-esteem pulverized because she blamed the breakup on her physical transformation and baldness.

"Will you be present at the next meeting? You barely show up these days and we need to catch up. Besides, all the others are missing you." She smiled ruefully and shoved the bouquet in her stylish tote bag, the fresh white roses peeking outside.

I seldom went to the cancer support group these days because I was honestly tired of it. I had been going there for almost over two and a half years and now it was enough. The support group did help me tremendously in the beginning and I would love to give hope to new cancer patients who joined, but each dreaded phone call from my friends there shattered me. I had witnessed so many deaths and I wasn't numb to that feeling yet, how could one even get used to someone dying without feeling a pinch at their heart for that person? I certainly couldn't and the more friends I made there, the more anxious I felt.