Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Yellow (11/12/09)
TITLE: A Rose By Any Other Name...
By Laura Manley
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“Good morning, Miss Chelsea!” Albert greeted her.
“The usual?” he asked. The usual was for him to hail a cab for her.
“Yes, Albert. Thank you.”
It was a cold wind-filled day, but not surprising since it was December. She wrapped her wool scarf tighter around her neck and face to ward off the cold just as her taxi arrived. She never had to wait long.
Chelsea arrived at her office in no real hurry. She set her briefcase down, took off her teal-colored winter coat and hung it in the closet and placed her handbag in a locked compartment of one of the filing cabinets.
When all that was accomplished, she went into the lunchroom and made a pot of coffee. Even in her executive position, it was never beneath her to make coffee in the mornings. She always appreciated it when someone else did the chore, but she didn’t mind.
Upon returning to her office, she walked over to her desk and scooted her chair away from her desk to sit down. As she did, there on her desk was the most beautiful yellow long-stemmed rose she had ever laid eyes on. She wasn’t sure when it was put on her desk because she had been busy with her normal every day routine.
She walked back into the lunchroom and found a bud vase to fill with water. She took it back to her office and put the yellow beauty in it and placed it on her desk.
'How did someone know yellow roses are my favorite?’ she asked herself.
She had things to do, so little more thought was given to the yellow rose. It was nice to see it on her desk, although she wished she knew who placed it there.
As the days went on, each morning upon arriving at her office, Chelsea found a yellow long-stemmed rose on her desk. Some of her colleagues were sure she had a secret admirer. Only on occasion would the giver leave a card with the rose with a handwritten note that said “It’s been a long time.” Another card was left with a note that asked, “Do you remember yet?”
Chelsea had no clue as to the benefactor. She had no previous boyfriends who would be placing a flower on her desk every morning. She didn’t have a current boyfriend so that was out of the question as well.
One day, Chelsea arrived early at her office. She went through her normal routine. As she worked through a pile of contracts on her desk, she heard her office door open. She whipped her chair around to observe a handsome young man in the doorway with a smile that could match the sun.
“May I help you?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes, you may,” the young man answered. As he spoke, he brought from behind him a dozen yellow long-stemmed roses and put his arm out for her to receive them.
“So you’re the one who has been placing a single yellow rose on my desk. Do I know you?”
“Yes, to both your questions, Chelsea.”
“And you know my name!” she said with a little apprehension.
“Chelsea, do you remember Mrs. Foley who lived on LaCrosse St. when you were young?”
“What’s that got to do with these roses?”
“Well, nothing really, except you learned to love yellow long-stemmed roses because Mrs. Foley grew them in her garden.”
By this time, Chelsea knew who this young man was. Her hands became moist and her breathing labored.
It had been twenty years. Their mother had died of Tuberculosis and as young children, her brother and she had gotten separated. Over the years, they had attempted to find one another, to no avail.
Chelsea stood up and flung her arms around her brother’s neck.
“I should have known it was you placing the roses on my desk, John. Now, sit down, we have a lot to talk about.
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