Abigail

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Abigail hummed along to the classical music playing on the record player that can be heard playing in her room. Ricardo kept many old classical pieces of vinyl and played them regularly, over the years it wasn't hard to develop a sense of tranquillity with the musical pieces. 

Slowly she walked up the stairs with such caution a tortoise probably had a faster pace than she did. She was holding one of her favourite porcelain china vases to display it in her room. The delicate china was intricately hand-painted detailing peacocks, cherry blossom trees and patterns; it was no surprise that it cost thousands.

Normally she kept her china prize stored away in a safe place where there could be no chance of damage but this time it was for something special. 

In her room, she carefully placed the vase onto the console table as the centrepiece and poured water into it.

Facing her bed her face lit up, a bouquet of a dozen pink roses. She unwrapped the flowers from their brown paper packaging before trimming the stem ends of the roses and placing each into the vase.

Earlier that day Marie paid her a visit and continuously teased her about the flowers. At first, Abigail was confused as to who gave it but after Marie's teasing, she was quick to figure out that it was Damien that gifted them. 

Naturally, Abigail blushed at the gesture and further gushed into a brighter scarlet when she noticed the small card wedged between the stems. It was a small card that was simply signed 'Have a beautiful day -Damien R.' but it was enough to get her heart jumping.

With the classical music still playing in the background, she propped herself onto the nook of her window sill and admired the beauty of the flowers from the other side of the room. Especially with the china, it was the prettiest decor in the room. 

Looking outside she noticed two squirrels play fighting and jumping between trees trying to chase each other down. She felt happy and at ease. 

She glanced back at the flowers, a part of her missed Damien as it had been a few days since she last had any contact with him but she didn't know whether feeling that certain way about a person she had only met a few times was appropriate. 

As she thought back to the last encounter she remembered the card he gave her before he left that day. 

Abigail walked over to her bedside drawer and took the card that had been sitting there for the past few days. She still hadn't called him. 

"Should I call him?" she asked herself. 

She ignored her nerves and decided to call him on the home phone from the hallway, speaking on the phone must be easier than speaking in person which she had already done. With his business card in hand, she traced the print of his name, Damien Russo.

She dialled his number and listened to the dining of the phone, "H-hello? Damien?"

"Speaking, who is this?"

She bit her lip instinctively hearing his deep rough familiar voice.

"D-Damien, it's Abigail."

There was a pause before he continued, "Abigail, I've been waiting for your call."

"Oh, really?"

"It's been a few days since I've last seen you."

"Hmm," Abigail hummed, "I-I wanted to thank you for the flowers and the little note, it's very sweet of you."

"You're welcome, I was hoping to see you at the cafe and was a little disappointed when I didn't see your beautiful face."

She blushed, he called her beautiful. She shook her thoughts away she was acting like a little girl.