The ad on the radio nearly made Jermaine jump through the windshield. Fear made him jerk the wheel so hard that he nearly hit the car in the opposite lane. He laughed nervously as he gained control of his senses.

“If Eden hadn’t already put her Wagoneer in the shop twice due to the radio’s volume increasing by itself, I’d think you were trying to tell me something Ma. I mean I did ask for a sign,” Jermaine laughed as he tried to calm his nerves.

The radio had successfully scared the shit out of him. Whether a simple technological malfunction or a sign from the other side, Jermaine couldn’t deny that good advice was good advice.

The floral shop was less than a mile away on the next exit. Using the Bluetooth connection, Jermaine called out for Siri to call, The Wife.

“Bonjour, you’ve reached Eden Merci Shelton. I’m unavailable.”

“Why is the call going to voicemail?” Jermaine thought. He knew she hadn’t left home because his ADT app didn’t show any movement. At the sound of the beep, Jermaine left a message.

“Hey Edy, why is your phone going to voicemail? I’m on the way home. Do you want me to grab something to eat since you aren’t feeling well? I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Jermaine said as he pulled in front of the flower shop.

Jermaine exited the Wagoneer, entered the flower shop and instantly wanted to leave. The sweet scent of roses, petunias, and other floral scents that Jermaine couldn’t identify attacked his sinuses, making his eyes water, nose itch, and a flurry of sneezes began.

“Bless you. First time in a flower shop, Huh?” The older woman, whose name tag read, Madge, asked as she handed Jermaine a box of Kleenex.

“Thank you and yes, it is. I’m assuming the chronic sneezing gave that fact away,” Jermaine joked as he accepted the soft tissue.

“The sneeze chorus gives it away every time. What can I put together for you?” Madge asked.

“Well, I don’t know. Like you said, this is my first time needing an actual bouquet. I normally buy flowers from Publix or Edible Arrangements. But it’s my anniversary. I wanted to do something special,” Jermaine lied.

There was no need to tell a stranger the truth. She did not need to know that he felt guilty for having sex with his sister-in-law. Though something told him that Madge had heard every sob story and raunchy tale known to man. If he were the type to wager a bet, he would’ve won, because Madge was a little crestfallen that he didn’t have a salacious tale to tell her. Heartbreak and dumb decisions are what kept her business afloat for thirty years.