Flowers in the Trash Can

Recently, we saw a photo of flowers lying in a trash can. We couldn't help but wonder at the story behind such a scene. This is a short one with little sex and a few stories within the story.

Everyone portrayed is over eighteen. This is fiction; as always, all characters and events, etc. are figments of our imagination and have no connection to any living or dead persons, or true events.

Flowers in the Trash Can

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, the air held the promise of a wonderful fall. Half the trees lining the city park were turning red, orange and yellow, the other half still held their green. My morning couldn't have gone better; it was my thirtieth birthday, three of my colleagues surprised me with an offer to take me out for lunch and my supervisor told me to take the rest of the day off.

I decided to take a walk after I left the restaurant rather than head back to our empty apartment. That's why I found myself walking through the park and why I was at the corner of Main and Pine when it caught my eye. Sitting inside a trash can on the edge of the park was a bouquet of flowers. Not just a simple arrangement; an almost gaudy display of red roses, yellow irises, purple larkspur and four flowers I couldn't identify, all sitting in the trash.

I walked across the street to a nice café with outdoor seating, there were two open tables that faced the park. I sat at the table nearest the street, ordered a Campari Negroni and watched as people walked by the trash can. A few people did a double-take as they passed the bouquet, some even stopped and walked back to have a closer look. Nobody disturbed the flowers, although one lady took a photo with her cell phone.

I slowly sipped my cocktail; watching as a man in a business suit stopped, shook his head, then moved on. He was a good-looking young man, perhaps my age, a little on the chubby side, maybe five-nine. My mind began to wander.

********

John Farnsworth couldn't help but be amazed at the streak of luck he'd been on lately. Five years out of graduate school, five years of busting his butt at the bank, and today he was called into the President's office and told the Board elected him his VP title. He almost started to laugh, thinking it was some kind of prank, but of course Mr. Jackson never joked about these things, it was real. A vice president, three months before his twenty-ninth birthday; it had to be a record. (And in fact it was according to his administrative assistant Ms. Barnes, who has been with the bank since its inception in 1989.)

John walked out of Mr. Jackson's office and made a decision - this would be the day. He'd been dating Michelle for six months now, they've been sleeping together and exclusive for five of those months, and exchanged the words "I love you" shortly before the first time they had sex. John sometimes found it hard to believe that a woman as beautiful, smart and charming as Michelle was his girlfriend. Plus, she was such a wonderful influence on John. She never complained about the extra time John put in at the office, was always ready to go do something at a moment's notice, and she encouraged him to be his best.

Her encouragement got him back in the gym. In the past six months John lost twenty pounds and was looking his best since wrestling in high school. He planned to lose another ten pounds before having to buy a few new suits; his current wardrobe gave John the appearance of being chubby.

John called Michelle's office and asked if she was free for lunch. "I have some great news and I need to ask you a question."

"Aren't you going to give me a hint?"

"No, just meet me at Sullivan's at the Park."

"Oh, a mystery. I love it."

"And I love you, babe. See you at noon."

At eleven-thirty John walked out of his office. Ms. Barnes couldn't help but smile as John walked past her desk whistling a tune. It was one of his mother's favorite Beatles' tunes, sung by Paul, 'Michelle'. John made a quick stop at the flower shop in the downstairs lobby.

"I want a bouquet, something special for a most special lady."

With the bouquet in hand, John floated down the street, still whistling the tune and letting his imagination run wild. What would the next year bring? The next decade? The next fifty years? John's parents recently celebrated their thirty-fifth anniversary and were still madly in love. John could easily see himself with Michelle in thirty-five years, sharing life, love, children.

There she was. Michelle was already seated at a table outside. As John approached the restaurant, Michelle waved. When she saw the huge bouquet of flowers, her smile brightened. John was the nicest, most generous man or boy Michelle ever dated, he always did both the little and the big things to make her feel loved.

John reached the table, bending down to give her a kiss; Michelle reached for the bouquet. "For me?"

John pulled it back. "Not yet." And sat down in the chair across from her. "In a little bit. First, I want to introduce you to the newest vice president at First Bank."

Michelle caught on immediately. "Oh John, that's fantastic." She squeezed his hand. "I'm so happy for you -- congratulations!"

"Getting the Sullivan account put me over the top. Mr. Jackson said the Board wanted to let me know how much I'm appreciated."

Michelle smiled again.

"So that's my big news. Now for my question."

The waiter chose this exact moment to show up at their table and asked John if he could bring him a drink; Michelle was already sipping a glass of white wine.

"Yes, please bring us a bottle of champagne. We're celebrating today."

"My boyfriend received great news today." Michelle told the waiter before he turned away.

"We're not only celebrating my promotion." John picked the flowers off the table and handed them to Michelle. "We can pick out a ring together later; let this bouquet represent that token. Michelle, will you marry me?"

The seconds dragged out into an incredibly uncomfortable vacuum of silence as John waited for Michelle's response and Michelle stared at John, wondering what words would cause the least damage. Finally, not knowing how to put it any better, she simply told him the truth.

"John, I don't love you like that."

That's all it took; in less than a minute, John's world turned upside-down, from the highest heights to the deepest depths. Maybe he heard her wrong.

"But, you've told me you love me. We've been sleeping together for the past four months. You tell me how happy I make you. What am I missing here?"

"All those things are true, John. But I'll never love you enough to be your wife. I'd always feel like I settled and didn't wait long enough for the right man. We'd be miserable and eventually divorce, I guarantee it."

As soon as the word 'settled' left her lips, Michelle knew it was the wrong choice. Michelle's words reached John's ears and found their way to his brain; but he couldn't understand them. "Settled, miserable, divorce, never love you enough." Just last night, this woman was riding cowgirl on his cock, covering his face and mouth in kisses, playing with his nipples, telling him she loved him, all the time bouncing up and down as her pussy squeezed his shaft, milking it until they came together -- her warm cum combining with his to create a wet spot on the bed. A wet spot neither of them chose to sleep in; they had to change the sheets.

See, that was another thing, another reason John knew they were meant to be together -- the sex was just so damn good!

The waiter brought out the champagne and was about to open it.

"Wait!"

John got up from the table. "We changed our minds." John pulled all the cash out of his wallet, eighty-two dollars, handing them to the waiter. "This is to cover her drink and your tip. I'm assuming the champagne can go back since it wasn't opened. Sorry."

The waiter accepted the cash and nodded. "Thank you." Not knowing what else to say; something obviously went very wrong.

John picked up the flowers, turning to walk away. The waiter wasn't the only one who didn't know what to say. John wondered - is a simple 'goodbye' appropriate? He couldn't call her a bitch -- she never promised him anything -- he merely assumed she loved him as much as he loved her.

John was already out of the fenced dining area when Michelle shouted after him. "Can't I keep the flowers?"

"No." He walked across the street and stuffed the bouquet in the trash can; right on top of all the other garbage people left there - the fast food bags, the soda cans, even a damaged umbrella someone threw out after this morning's rain shower.

Michelle called John the next day. She tried to do her best to make up to him. Couldn't they continue to be friends with benefits? Would he meet her for dinner one night soon? John's reply to each request was the same. "I can't see that happening; nothing will change -- I'll always want more from our relationship than what you want. Better to end it now; before you eventually dump me for a guy you do want to marry." They did meet a few times after that afternoon, but only for the purpose of exchanging items left in each other's apartments. The city is big enough that they could live their separate lives and never see each other again.

John was sitting in a tavern one afternoon when a husband of one of Michelle's girlfriends walked in. John always liked the guy and offered to buy him a beer. The two got to talking and eventually John had to ask.

"I guess I was always afraid to ask her. Maybe you know. What did Michelle mean when she told me she would be 'settling' if she accepted my proposal?"

"Michelle is a victim of her pre-conceived notions of Prince Charming." He paused before deciding to continue. "John, you're like me -- neither of us is tall, dark and handsome, we're solid 'seven/eights' on the one-to-ten scale. I'm fortunate, my wife loves me for what I am. Find yourself a woman who looks past all that bullshit and loves you for the same reasons. There are plenty of women like my Jennifer."

"I lost almost twenty pounds while I dated Michelle, but I'll never be more than five-nine."

"If it's any consolation; Michelle told Jenn a few times how much she misses you. Told Jenn all about your great qualities, she just couldn't get past the image of the ideal mate she has in her head. It's her loss."

Five years later, John saw Michelle at an outdoor concert. John's wife stood next to him while they waited for his wife's bag to pass through the security screener; she noticed John's eyes staring at a brunette.

"Someone you know?"

His wife's voice seemed to shake him.

"Remember I told you about once proposing and getting turned down?"

"Yes, why -- is that her?

"Yea."'

"Pretty woman. Do you want to go say hello?"

"No, I'd feel like I was just rubbing it in."

"Rubbing what in?"

"Me here with you. The fact she said "no' and I obviously traded up when I met and married you."

Now, most wives would hear a line like that and call 'bullshit'; but John's wife knew John well enough to know he was being perfectly honest; he actually thought he married the most beautiful woman in the world. She gave John a hug, thinking how happy he'll be when she gives him the news later tonight at the hotel. John is going to be a daddy!

********

The waiter came out to see if I'd like another drink. The sun was still warm, my glass was empty and I still didn't have anywhere to be just yet. "Why not?"

I looked back across the street, in time to spot a very attractive lady as she did what so many others preceded her in doing -- looking at the bouquet and pausing before moving on. Once again my imagination took flight.

********

Alexis Walker, née North, spent the last hour debating whether to start smoking again or not. She only quit because Matt insisted he wouldn't marry her until she gave up 'that filthy habit'. So, to please Matt, she went cold turkey, with the help of a nicotine patch. Too bad Matt couldn't give up his bad habits.

Matt was a flirt. It didn't seem like such a bad habit when they were dating during college. Every one of their friends seemed to be alive and fun-loving, the flirting was just part of it. It never went any farther than dancing and an occasional kiss or grab-ass. But like so many things, the transition from college life to married/adult life brought changes. Fewer of their male friends were willing to let their wives get groped. The women started to get defensive when some young thing put a lip-lock on a husband.

What hadn't changed -- Matt. Alexis and Matt married the second year after graduation. They were one of the few couples whose relationship survived past college. The trouble was -- the relationship and marriage would soon to join the others in the past tense. Alexis sat in the café fighting the urge for that cigarette, it would taste so good with this cup of coffee. What's more harmful, a big pastry or a cigarette?

The attorney she retained this morning would have the papers ready to serve Matt in two days. Alexis sat on the patio, drinking a decaf, wondering if she could bum a smoke from the guy at the next table, and watching the trees across the street shake the water from this morning's rain off their leaves.

Alexis could have lived with the flirting, but not the cheating. Two years into their marriage, Alexis caught Matt the first time. He was fucking that little slut from across the courtyard. The little bitch would prance around her apartment with those sheer curtains as the only window coverings; the lights on in the room and her silhouette playing on the curtains. Sometimes in daylight she didn't even bother to close the curtains as she casually walked naked through her apartment.

She wore the skimpiest bikinis down at the pool. Once, at an apartment patio party, she had a pair of daisy dukes and a white wife beater tee-shirt. No underwear, Alexis and half the neighbors saw her cunt lips as she spread her legs in those shorts. A hound like her husband couldn't resist. Three months after the bitch moved into the complex, she made certain Alexis knew she was fucking Matt. Matt was too stupid to know he'd been set up by the bitch.

When Alexis confronted Matt, he apologized all to hell. Made every promise known to man that it would never happen again and pleaded for Alexis to forgive him. A bouquet of flowers arrived every week at both the apartment and her office until Alexis finally gave in.

"But first, get your ass tested for STDs; no telling where that skank has been or who's been inside that hole!"

Matt got tested, came back clean, Alexis let Matt back into their bed.

Alexis knew the bitch's game. Matt wasn't any outstanding stud in the bedroom; he couldn't have been anything other than average size and his talents didn't exceed his size. No, the bitch just needed to prove her superiority by bedding any husband she could and then rub the wife's face in the infidelity.

Against Alexis' better judgment she forgave him. She loved the bastard; but made it plain as day that any further transgressions were unforgivable. Even made him sign a post-nup.

Matt knew he dodged a bullet; it all started when the blonde moved in across the courtyard and began her exhibitions, driving him mad. (Here again, Matt was being dishonest with himself - maybe he couldn't help it, he was dishonest with everyone -- his fall from grace didn't start with this blonde, almost every female crossing his path gave Matt some reason to lust after; it's just that the blonde was more available than the others.) The shadows on the sheer curtains first caught his attention a week after she moved in. Matt almost said something out loud to Alexis as he sat on their back deck.

But he kept his mouth shut and the next day was at REI buying the best pair of binoculars in the store. He began to spend more time on the deck, watching and waiting. The light in the blonde's window would light up, and if he could get away with it -- if Alexa was busy in the den for instance, he'd run inside and watch from one of the darkened rooms.

With the binoculars he could tell she was naked; the third time he could tell she was on the bed fucking herself with a dildo. It was like having his own personal porn show. The day of the complex BBQ was the kicker; it seemed she took every opportunity to flash her bald pussy at him, the daisy dukes cut so high and her nipples straining against the tee-shirt. Who would have guessed the blonde smeared Vaseline on her pussy lips, just to make them shine?

Like a trout caught on a barbed hook, Matt was dead meat.

Despite her best efforts, it took the blonde three attempts to get caught by Alexis with her husband. The blonde almost gave up after the second session in her bedroom. Damn, how the hell did that woman put up with this?

The first time was bad enough; the asshole came down her throat in less than a minute after she started to suck him off. Deep-throating wasn't a problem, no need to suppress her famous gag reflex, it didn't reach far enough down her throat. And almost every other guy she ever fucked after getting them off in her mouth lasted at least a little while before cumming a second time. This clown waited an entire full minute before letting go after she mounted his cock.

So, the first time with Matt was a bust. She didn't get off and she didn't get caught. Round two wasn't much better. Same script, same premature ejaculations. If she didn't hate Alexis so much, she would have given it up right then and there,

Why did she hate Alexis? From the first time she saw her, she hated her. Alexis was blessed with that slim body and long, toned legs (not giving credit to Alexis' great diet and thirty to forty miles of jogging every week plus all those laps in the pool), Alexis had so many friends (a result of Alexis' hard work to overcome her shyness and inclination to be an introvert), and most of all, how Matt just went on and on about how lucky he was to have married her.

For their third session, she made certain to fuck Matt in his own bed, that's how they got caught -- what a stupid dolt!

Worse of all, when Alexis did discover Matt cheating on her, Alexis ends up forgiving the schlup and taking him back!

Which is what Alexis did. Not that it was easy; it took Matt two weeks to get back into the apartment and over a month before sharing their bed again. For the entire next year, Matt did his best to assure Alexis that his cheating days were over. Alexis cautiously re-opened her heart to Matt, forgiving him and doing her best to forget his infidelity.

Alexis shouldn't have been surprised a little over a year later when she found out he was cheating again; the surprise was more the way she found out. Matt was playing golf when the doorbell rang. Opening the door, she looked at the young girl standing before her.

"Are you Alexis?"

"Yes." Alexis was waiting for the girl to ask if she wanted to buy Girl Scout cookies or something; but why would this young girl know her name?

"Can I talk to you, please?"

"Go ahead."

"It's kind of private. Can I come in?"

Alexis looked behind the girl. She heard of scams where the girl gets in followed by some brute. She didn't see anyone and unlocked the screen. She locked the screen as soon as the girl crossed the threshold. "How can I help you?"

The girl took a deep breath. "You can let Matthew go; give him a divorce."

Alexis nearly went into shock and barely got two words out. "Excuse me?"

"Why don't you let Matthew go? If you loved him as much as you should, you'd want him to be happy and let him go. I'll make him happy."

If Alexis was watching this scene in some cheesy rom-com, it might have seemed crazy and amusing; but this was her life, dammit, not some TV show. Inside Alexis was a bubbling cauldron of hot lava, but she needed answers and kept her cool. Even so, Alexis couldn't help herself and had to ask, "How old are you?"