Winner of the 7 Stories Writing Competition
Congratulations to member Tali Shammas for winning first place in the “Pink Bouquet” category and second best in show for her entry.
Flowers
Our boys’ laughter drifts in through an open window as I admire the bouquet Adam brought me—never red, not anymore. The thought carries my mind to a different place, a fragile moment in time we barely survived.
***
Crimson tendrils unfurl like flower petals in the soft pink water, delicate and deliberate. A dark clot mars the gleaming white porcelain, and my brain struggles to decipher what’s before my eyes. I blink again and again.
A swirling current blasts through but doesn’t wash all the red away. I flush again. This can’t be real. How will I tell Adam? I move to the sink. My cool fingers tingle under the warm water.
I shake my head and thoughts scatter. My reflection is weary, creases on my forehead lingering even after I force my features to soften. My hand moves across my brow, smoothing lines like folds in a bedsheet.
I exit the washroom and the unbearable heaviness of being weighs down on me.
“You’re carrying high—definitely a girl,” crows Aunt Mae.
Where’s Adam? Shaky legs carry me through the room.
Breaths jagged, I grip the edge of the dessert table, steadying myself. Dark specks dance at the fringes of my vision, the room narrowing into a tunnel of blurred shapes. Seeking distraction, I count cupcakes frosted in pink and blue: five, ten, fifteen…
Thirty-six, like the number of months we waited before starting IVF. Of negative pregnancy tests. Of cycles where all I saw was red. Like the roses Adam bought me. Like the anger when I threw them in his face, yelling, “I want a baby, not flowers.”
Like the blood of failure.
A strong hand presses down on my shoulder, bringing me back to this room. The people. The cupcakes. Adam stands before me, grin blooming. He extends a silver cylinder. “Wanna do the honors?”
I shake my head, so he wraps an arm around me and says, “I love you.” Then, louder, “It’s time!”
Friends and family gather, their voices barely registering over the roar of my heartbeat. Adam nudges me and I realize they’re counting down.
“Three, Two, One…”
A loud POP, and pink confetti bursts from the cylinder. “It’s a girl!”
A circle of crepe paper settles on my belly just as wetness spills down my leg. I turn to Adam, tears in my eyes. “Take me to the hospital.”