The Flowers

The flowers were wilted. It was the first thing she noticed. There was a side table to the left. Just inside the door. “Come in and I’ll make some tea”. The words seemed sincere but the look on her face said otherwise. Did she really want me to be there? Am I actually welcome or was this just the “pleasantries” that Momma had warned me about when someone doesn’t really want you around but just allows you to take up space. Sonya didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be that girl. And yet... she was that girl.

Mrs. Abington motioned for Sonya to move. She was stuck and hadn’t moved since she opened the door. The wilted flowers and offer of tea fell on her like a ton of bricks. “Are you gonna come in dear? You’ve been standing there for almost 5 minutes.” Her nervous laughter lilted through the air and let Sonya know that she wasn’t the only one uncertain about this meeting. Was Mrs. Abington nervous also? Maybe they were on the same page. Sonya took a breath and she moved. She moved through the room that looked like a living room. Mrs. Abington was tall. Her dreadlocks were long and mostly gray. She was chattering something about the weather and then the news. Much of what she said Sonya could only muster a smile and head nod. Were all the things she’d heard true?

“Snap out it” she told herself. “Be present. Stay focused Sonya”. These internal talks were ones she’d had many times before. When no one is there to teach you, you do it yourself. Not that Momma didn’t try. But it was hard. She was often fighting a battle that someone else had started. And Momma taught her not to be rude she stopped and refocused. This meeting was a long time coming and she’d promised her therapist she’d go. So here she was. By now they were in the kitchen. And Mrs. Abington had given her a tin full of teas to choose from. Such big decisions after meeting for first time, Sonya mused. But she didn’t share that joke out loud. What if Mrs. Abington didn’t have a sense of humor?

But all Sonya could focus on at that moment was that side table that greeted her. Today was giving her an earl gray vibe. So after picking her tea and handing it to Mrs. Abington, she had to say something to make this already awkward moment even more awkward. “Nice flowers.”