I woke up to one alarm and laid there with my arm over my face until my second alarm sounded, signaling that yes I did have to get up or I’d be late. I swung my legs over the side of my bed, stretched, and slowly stood, joints creaking under my weight. I shuffled my way to the corner of my small excuse for a studio where the kitchen was, sloppily pouring myself a heaping bowl of cereal then I stood by the counter, sleepily stuffing my mouth with spoonful after spoonful. I took a quick shower and threw on whichever clothes weren’t wrinkled and could pass as the most casual version of business casual. I left late but I still had to stop by the bank to get money out before I had to meet with my publisher.

The walk to the bank was the same as it always had been. It was Friday, I always stopped at the bank on Friday. The building looked the same as always, my wait in line was just as mundane as any other day. I got up to the teller, Daisy or something I think. She was always there but we never exchanged conversation more than the usual “Hello, how can I help you” and “I just need to take out some money please.” She’d ask me for my account numbers and then she’d hand me my money. I told her to have a great rest of her day and she smiled and said you too. But by then I was already walking out of the building, a little jog in my step.

I sat through the meeting, exchanged thoughts with Tom about my latest manuscript. He’d wanted to take out a whole chapter, claiming it was irrelevant to the rest of the piece and including it would cost the project more money. We argued over it for a while but eventually, I agreed to leave it out. He’d asked about what else was going on in my life and I asked how his wife and kids were. Around noon I stood to leave, anxious to get home and begin working on some of my smaller projects. Before I left, I opened my wallet, taking out the envelope I received from the bank to pay him. It had seemed thicker than it should’ve been between my fingers. I counted and recounted the bills. There were many more than I’d remembered asking for. Confused, I handed Tom the correct amount thinking back to my exchange with the teller. I told her that I only needed $200, right? Counting the bills again, I was sure I hadn’t asked for that much because there wouldn’t have even been that much in my checking account. She must’ve made a mistake.

I’ll be honest, I thought about keeping the extra money. It sure would’ve helped with rent and I could’ve used it to eat more than just cereal. But then I wondered about that teller’s job when it was discovered that that much money had been missing. I was also a strong believer in karma, and I didn’t want that to come back to bite me later.

I walked the short distance back around the corner, across the street, another block down, all the while trying to remember her name. It was something having to do with a flower. How I had been to that exact bank, with that exact teller without remembering her name was beyond me. When I opened the doors, frozen air blew past me, escaping into the humidity. Thankfully, there wasn’t a line when I’d come in, which might’ve been odd to me if I hadn’t been perspiring over the amount of money in my pocket. I walked up to the counter, looking from one teller to the other. The one on the right was typing something on her computer, the plaque in front of her window reading “NEXT WINDOW” with an arrow pointing to the right. She was older, she couldn’t have been the one that had helped me earlier. The woman on the left was looking down so I hadn’t been able to see her face or her name tag. Her hair hung in waves the color of honey, draping over her shoulder onto the counter, right in front of the place her name tag would’ve been clipped. I approached her slowly, still not entirely sure she was the woman I was looking for. She was sketching something on a scrap of paper. I set the envelope on the counter in front of her, sliding it in her direction in hopes of getting her attention without startling her. She looked at the envelope first, then shifted her vision up toward me. Her hair moved enough for me to get a glimpse at her name tag. It read Rose. I knew it had something to do with flowers. My eyes moved from her name tag to her eyes and my breath hitched in my throat. They were beautiful, the color of some sea I would love to get lost in. How I’d never been observant enough to witness them baffled me. She smiled, her lips stretching to reveal deep divots in both her cheeks. Tan freckles dusted her pale skin, spreading from cheekbone to cheekbone. Her eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled. She was breathtaking.

“Long time no see, Mr. Blake.” She was still smiling but her eyes had reflected a question.

“Um, yea,” I stumbled. “I’m sorry, uh, I just noticed something weird with my transaction earlier. I think there might’ve been a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows gathered.

I opened the envelope and pulled the cash halfway out of the opening. “Um, I think I asked for $200 and this is everything else that I got with it. I didn’t realize until I was trying to pay my publisher but I don’t think this is right.” Her eyes had widened at the bills spilling out onto the counter. She’d straightened before scooping the envelope up and counting it on her side of the counter.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, her golden hair shining as it reflected the light from above. “I don’t know how this happened.” She opened her drawer, looking at the slot that held the hundreds, seeing that it had been slightly less full than it should’ve been. She looked back up at me, eyes wild with panic. Her cheeks had been red, the flush spreading up to her ears and down her neck. She quickly replaced the missing bills in the drawer before closing it with a bang. The older teller in the next booth looked up from her computer screen scowling. I smiled as nonchalantly as I could. Rose looked up and flashed a cheeky smile as well. She lifted her hand from the glass countertop to brush her hair out of her face, leaving a clammy print behind. Her hands lingered on her forehead, rubbing her eyes anxiously before she finally looked back to me. I was mesmerized by her the entire time. Her movements were sleek and elegant even as she recovered from her mistake. Her lips began moving and I had to repeatedly remind myself to focus on what she was saying. I shook my head a little.

“Thank you so much for bringing it back.” Her eyes had become misty. I wanted nothing more than to hug her. “I would’ve been fired for sure.” She looked back down at the counter. “I need this job.” She exhaled heavily before clearing her throat and smiling once more. “Honestly thank you, so many people would’ve just taken it and run.”

I found myself smiling at her smile. I had thought about it, but damn was I glad I hadn’t. Then, instead of saying something like “You’re welcome” or “No problem” like I’d been meaning to I said, “Go out for coffee?” And then I realized that that didn’t really make sense and shook my head. It was my turn to turn red then, and I did, a lot. But I was halfway there at that point so I figured I might as well just go for it. “I mean, would you like to go out for coffee with me?”

Her lips part, hopefully preparing to say yes. “Rose, you need to finish up quickly, we have customers waiting for you to help them.” The older lady interrupts, looking over her glasses at Rose pointedly. She bent forward, snatching the plaque from the counter in front of her and waving to the person waiting to come over to her.

Rose looked back to me just as the door opened, humid air blowing in from the street. An obnoxiously loud conversation between two women filled the small lobby, followed by the crying of a baby held by a man behind them. When my eyes shift back to Rose, her lips were stretched into a small smile but her eyes cast annoyance in my direction. “ Rose, now. You have to finish up. You’ve been chatting for almost twenty minutes.” The older lady was growing more frustrated. I looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and no longer shiny as they’d been when I bought them. There was a collection of dust near where the floor met the counter. I shouldn’t have asked. Obviously, she said no.

“Um nevermind,” I half-shout over all the sounds crowding the space. “That was stupid of me to ask. Uh- have a good day.” I turned and quickly exit the building, scolding myself for not thinking it through more thoroughly before blurting it out at her. I just learned her real name for god sakes.

I walked down the cracked sidewalk, cringing in embarrassment at the trainwreck that I’d just created. What the hell was I thinking? Obviously, I had to switch banks. Or go on a day when she wouldn’t be working. Such an idiot.

The rest of that afternoon, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I couldn’t focus on any of my projects. I just sat at my desk, the television playing reruns. I felt terrible that I had paid so little attention to her for so long that I didn’t even know her name. What had I been so focused on this entire time? How had I been so self-absorbed to not notice her eyes? Her voice, so sweet and rich. Her laugh, beautiful, like bells ringing, echoing out of her mouth so lightly. And now I wouldn’t ever be able to see or hear her again. I exhaled, replaying the moments again. I shook my head just as I’d done so often that afternoon.

When I left my apartment, I left in search of a good cup of coffee and distraction. The walk toward the coffee shop was a lot longer than I remembered. I struggled to forget the festivities of the morning. The sidewalk is grey beneath my feet. Cracked and uneven as it had probably always been but colorful chalk stick men and women dot the spaces between the cracks. I wished I hadn’t screwed the whole thing up. Though my chances to know her were probably very slim, I still couldn’t believe that I had gone so long without really seeing her. I was sad, I would probably never have any idea of the person she actually was aside from the lady who’d withdrawn money for me every Friday.

When I finally got there, I walked directly to the counter, ordering a black coffee served in the largest mug they had. The vased sunflowers that decorate the counter are big and yellow, they cast long shadows across the space. I wondered if she liked sunflowers. My cup appeared on the pickup ledge and I quickly claimed my usual spot in the back corner. Opening my laptop, a blank page awaited me. I sipped the hot coffee, attempting for a final time to shut the day's events out of my mind in hopes of getting some work done.

An hour later, the tints the coffee shop a warm shade of orange. My coffee mug sits empty on the table, and my once blank page is filled with words. Words about her. Exasperated, I stand and stretch, stiff joints creaking beneath me. Shaking my head yet again, I leave my laptop on the table, returning my mug to the barista behind the counter. She smiles at me and I give her a weak smirk in return. The piercing on her nose glints in the light.

“Would you mind watching my laptop while I use the restroom?” I asked her. She nodded and looked back down at the plate she was drying. Turning, I looked back at the space I’d called my usual spot for so long. The corner is darker than the rest of the shop, my seat turned away from everything else. So closed off.

When I headed back out to the open space and tried to prepare myself for a whole evening of trying to shut my mind off, I turned back to the corner to retrieve my laptop to see an empty table. Looking back in the direction of the counter, the barista was turned around, busying herself with wiping the stainless steel surface in front of her. Stunned, I looked around the space in search of my laptop’s captor and there she was. Sitting patiently at the small table by the window, sipping quietly from a mug much larger than her hands with a laptop that looks remarkably like mine in front of her.. I paused panicking, trying to come up with some sort of plan before she noticed me. Her heart-shaped face was tilted down, looking into her cup. The freckles that I noticed earlier stick out, each one perfectly placed across her cheeks. Dark, full eyelashes cast shadows across her cheekbones, perfectly shaped dark eyebrows framed her sweet face. Honey hair spilled out behind her, falling in a wavy sheet across her back. She was looking up out the window, the setting sun shining on to her.

I slowly approached her, pulling out the chair opposite her and sitting down, sinking into the worn cushion.

“Um hi,” I said quietly. My voice startled her, she jumped in her seat. She smiled widely, exposing those deep dimples.

She put her hand on top of the silver computer, “You’re probably looking for this right?” She waited for me to respond, chuckling nervously.

Her smile is contagious. “Um, yes I am actually.” I raised my eyebrows at her, confused at the turn this day is taking.

“Well you left it open and I read your name on the top of the page so I figured I would watch it for you since you left it all out in the open.” Her eyes are filled with nerves, she’s trying hard to keep up her light tone.

“Well thank you, I guess.” I chuckle, “I appreciate your babysitting of my laptop. I apologize for leaving it so vulnerable, all by itself and everything.” I paused, hoping she got that I was being sarcastic, not an asshole.

Her smile deepened and that musical laugh filled the air around us. Thank god.

“So I guess I should explain myself a bit,” her eyes widen, “I kind of stalked you online. Which is why I’m sitting in your favorite coffee spot with your laptop held hostage.” She waited for me to respond. I didn’t. A grin pulls at my lips. Nervousness flares in her eyes once more. “You didn’t really leave me a choice though, you practically sprinted out of my work earlier. After I said yes to your date even! You asked me and I said yes and then Lisa started getting bitchy because I was interrupting her Facebook time, and then all those people came in and you were gone.” She was rambling.

“Wait, you said yes?” I replay the moment in my head for the billionth time. “No, I asked you and you didn’t answer me and then Lisa got all bitchy and the people came in and you still didn’t answer so I felt like an idiot and got out of your way so Lisa would stop being bitchy.” Now I was rambling.

“I said yes, you dummy, and you turned your head to look at the door. And then you promptly left without even giving me your number.”

“You said yes?” I had to make sure.

She nods, “Of course I said yes. Why would I say no?”
I shrug, a deep warmth seeps through my body from my heart. She said yes. My smile widens so big it hurts my cheeks. A blush travels up her neck and across her cheeks, she’s smiling too.

“Well damn. I’m so sorry.” I apologized. She thought it was for leaving so quickly, but really it was because of every opportunity I’d missed to meet this hilarious, witty woman. She shook her head, removing one of her hands from her mug and holding it out in front of me.

“I guess we should start over then huh?” She beamed. “Hi, I’m Rose.” She giggled. I shake my head for the final time that night, chuckling. “Hi Rose, I’m Greyson.”

We talked until the shop closed that night. The sun set the rest of the way as we began leaning closer and closer together, laughing and talking about anything and everything effortlessly. She was smart, incredibly smart and working hard to obtain her bachelor's degree. She was funny, making my stomach cramp from laughing more than I had in a long time. She was perfect, she snorted when she laughed, she was unapologetic about shamelessly tracking me down via Facebook. She was everything.

They had to kick us out, the last of the coffee lukewarm in to-go cups as we walked hand in hand down the street toward her apartment. I snagged one of the sunflowers off the counter before they made us go and gave it to her, it sat in her hair on the walk home. I dropped her off at her front door that evening, promising to talk to her as soon as I woke up in the morning.

“Why today?” She asked, sparking confusion on my part. “Why did you chose to ask me out today?” She pauses before adding, “Well before you took it back and then ran.” She was laughing.

“If I’m being honest? Because I finally looked up.”

***

“And that, my Junebug, is how I met your Grams. And then we had your daddy, and now we have you.” I squeezed the small girl with wavy honey hair sitting beside me on the porch swing.

“Grandpa, why weren’t you paying attention? You could’ve loved grams for so much longer.” She shakes her little head. “Mumma always tells me to pay attention. Now I know why. I don’t wanna be like you and miss out on fun stuff.”

I laugh mostly because completely she’s right. “ I don’t know, stinker, but I never stopped paying attention after that.” I look out over the open field, sunflowers grow along the edge of the porch, peeking up over the railings. That was the first day of the rest of my life.