Failing To Smile

Driving to the florist, we sit quietly until she finally decides to speak.

“So, how was last night?”

“Fine. I just slept. Why?” I reply, concentrating on the road.

“You didn’t look fine this morning. You looked like crap. Are you worried?” She looks at me with concern.

“I would rather not talk about it, honestly. I just want these two weeks to pass as quickly as possible,” I reply and continue driving.

Of course, I am worried. What sort of question is that? She is worried about me after twenty-four hours. Imagine me after two weeks. We arrive at the florist and walk in. It doesn’t take too long to pick which flowers I want. I look at Georgina.

“Do you think it would be wrong to get something done with the picture of his sister? And Tallulah’s print?” My mind is thinking about Jackson. This is his wedding as well.

“What do you mean, Alena?” She asks, looking at me, confused.

“Well, Katy should be there at his wedding. I feel like a photo, or something should be somewhere so that she