Thirteen Red Roses

Flash Fiction by Hillary Lyon

All afternoon, Laura buzzed around her tiny kitchen making preparations for their anniversary dinner. Thirty-five years with Benjamin! How time flies, she smiled to herself. Of course, over that much time you’re bound to have your ups and downs. The ups were never that high, and the downs were certainly in the depths—but still, she was content. She assumed her husband was, too.

She set the small Formica table in the kitchen with her grandmother’s silver and china. Tonight would be special, she decided. A real celebration! None of the couples we’d known in our youth had stayed together this long, she thought smugly.

Laura turned on the radio she kept on the counter by the sink, tuned it to a station she newly discovered: KLUV. Like it’s name implied, the station played nothing but love songs from across the decades—from Johnny Mathis crooning “Chances Are,” to Paul McCartney singing “My Love,” to Bruno Mars’ enthusiastic “Just the Way You Are.”

And once a month the station gave away thirteen red roses to the lucky thirteenth caller. Laura liked that; what a romantic idea!

Tonight, Laura made Benjamin’s favorites: salmon croquettes with sauteed green beans. Simple, but she was proud of the fact they were simple people. We don’t need fancy or expensive gestures to express our love, she told herself. Couldn’t afford it on Benjamin’s salary, anyway.

So as an affectionate gesture on her part, Laura was making a red velvet cake—Benjamin’s favorite. She didn’t care for it (she didn’t like the taste of red food coloring), but she’d make it to please him. She’d figured out ages ago that to keep their marriage intact, she have to go that extra mile to please him. And, more importantly, to turn a blind eye to his occasional flings.

Laura poured the cake’s ingredients in a mixing bowl and began to stir. She reminded herself: Those extra-marital flings meant nothing. He’d promised! And besides, they never lasted; there was never a relationship. She hummed along with Al Green pleading “Let’s Stay Together” on the portable radio.

At the end of the song, the DJ came on to announce today, this very afternoon, a lucky thirteenth caller would win thirteen red roses to send to their equally lucky love. Listeners were encouraged to call during Donna Summers’ steamy single, “Love to Love You Baby.”

Laura listened and stirred. After the song, the DJ came back on to announce a winner.

“Congrats!” the DJ’s sexy baritone voice boomed over the little radio in Laura’s kitchen.

“You’re our lucky thirteenth caller! What’s your name, and who’s your lucky love?”

The caller laughed—a laugh that sounded familiar to Laura’s ear. Could it be…?

“My name’s Ben, and…” Laura blushed. It was her husband!

“…my lucky love is my…” Laura knew she’d have to act surprised when Benjamin’s thirteen red roses arrived tonight.

“…long-term girlfriend, my gorgeous babe, Monique!” The blood drained from Laura’s face.

“Stay on the line, Ben,” the DJ said, “and I’ll put you through to our staff, where you can tell them what you want on the accompanying card and—”

Absent-mindedly, Laura kept stirring the cake batter as she walked over to the counter. She set the mixing bowl down and switched radio stations, before reaching under the sink for the open box of rat poison.

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Bio: With a Masters in English Lit, Hillary Lyon founded and for 20 years acted as senior editor for the independent poetry publisher, Subsynchronous Press. Her speculative fiction and crime short stories, drabbles, and poems have appeared in numerous print and online publications. She’s an SFPA Rhysling Award nominated poet. Hillary is also the art director for Black Petals.

You can find her at her Website.

Read more of her work HERE

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