“Can I get you a refill on your coffee, darling?”

The waitress' voice cut through my daydreams as she stepped up with a pitcher of joe so thick it could just as well be crude oil. I worked up a wan smile for her and shook my head. You know you're in the deep south when everyone calls you darling.

“No thanks,” I said, placing my hand over the cup to ward her off. “Too much of that and I'll be stopping every half hour.”

She laughed politely before raising an eyebrow. “You trying to remember something?” she asked, pointing at the bright red scrap of yarn I had tied around my finger.

“Yeah,” I replied softly. “It's my anniversary. Just a reminder to myself to pick her up something before I head out. It's a long way home from here, but she just loves the flower store the next town over.”

The waitress smiled. “You sound like a right catch, if a touch old-fashioned.”

“I guess you could say I'm just stuck in the past.” I grinned, flicking one grey furred ear.

She gave me one last carefree laugh before walking off between the red vynal booths. “Never said that was a bad thing, darling,” as Johnny B. Goode played in the background.



Half an hour later I was in the flower shop. The drive had been a pleasant one, the warm summer sun streaming in through the open window. A dozen cars sped past me on the highway, but I was in no rush.

The door chines sounded softly above me as I stepped in. No need for any harsh electronic buzzer, the soft music was more than enough to do the job.

“What can I do for you, love?” the woman across the counter asked.

Closing my eyes for just a moment, I took a deep breath, savouring the scent of so many flowers in bloom. It was like stepping into an orchard, or a perfect country garden. It brought back so many memories, I could almost see the day Beth and I first set foot in the store so long ago. It had been our third date.

“Sir?”

A slight start and I was back in the here and now. The florist had a concerned look to her face.

“Sorry,” I said with a sheepish grin. “It's just this place brings back a lot of memories. Now, which were her favourite again...” I glanced down to the red yarn about my finger. “A dozen red carnations, please.”




The next drive took a while longer, I hadn't gotten to pick where she waited for me. Her family's farm was out in the middle of nowhere. Endless, near unbroken farmland as far as the eye could see, she waited little more than a stone's throw from where she'd been born.

Stilling the hum of the old Studebaker's engine, I stepped out into the tiny gravel parking lot. A cool breeze swept across the fields of grain as I walked the final steps to the old oak tree under which she waited.

“You thought I forgot,” I whispered.

Pulling the string from around my finger, I used it to bind the carnations as I set them gently on the ground.

“I'd never forget, my darling, not our anniversary. Not our fiftieth.” Lowering myself slowly down to lay beside her, the long grass tickled my whiskers. “I'm so sorry...”

She didn't say a word. The wind rolled past, pushing the cotton clouds across the endless sky.