My Love Story Continued:
Because the romance of a rose did not win my heart, FringeMan struggled to uncover my true feelings. unfortunately my feelings were as mixed up as a milkshake. I knew FringeMan wouldn’t settle for a casual romance. He was looking for love or the door and I teetered on the threshold.
He beckoned me out to his truck one night after a church service and as I stood on the sidewalk beneath the stars, FringeMan pulled out an enormous, beautifully arranged bouquet. The flowers shone under the street lamp, each bright head reaching in a different direction, but all straight to my heart.
While some woman are won with words and others wooed with gifts, my heart was melted with a sunflower. Roses are pretty, but sunflowers were my signature.
I love sunflowers.
There were well over a dozen miniature sunflowers, golden reeds that made me sneeze more than a December cold, and purple stalks filling in any gaps. It was the largest bouquet I had ever seen and it was beautiful. FringeMan says he worked in an old Italian man’s flower shop that day wiring a propane furnace. Since Italians are known for their love of opera, meatballs, and woman, FringeMan cried the blues and the aged Italian artist created a masterpiece sure to win any good woman’s heart.
His magic worked and that night I crossed the threshold of doubt into the arms of FringeMan. Our love, yet unspoken, was sealed with a kiss of yellow blooms.
He won my heart.
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