“Ohmygoodness.” Rechy rushes to speak. “You picked up, yay, you picked up. How are you?”
The carnations are dead.
I only know they are carnations because of the card Rechy sent along. These are carnations, water once a week. It is a dry sort of plant. Take care of it.
It’s the third week of flowers showing up on my doorstep. I know they’re from Rechy, and I know I should say thank you, but I don’t.
I think she thinks that sending me something pretty every week would somehow help me, make me feel better. It’s a stupid plan.
Ha. I shake my head and dump the drooping flowers in the garbage.
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