Touch Me, Daddy
It takes three long seconds of blinking around us before I realize what he’s talking about.
Because: flowers.
Tubs and tubs of flowers, all freshly cut and fragrant. This whole store is an explosion of color, with delicate petals, green leaves, and the scent of damp soil. My heart climbs into my throat as I peer around us, struck dumb by this magical cave.
It’s so beautiful in here, and I love flowers. What kind of monster doesn’t?
But what on earth is Stefan Rodriguez, hater of all gifts, doing in a florist’s shop? And why am I here, called out on this urgent errand?