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Now she was bending over, great. Infernal temptations. So close to redemption, or still miles away, who would know for sure with this woman? Her spirit had defied him, no matter who they had been on previous occasions. This was a different time though. Relationships sure had changed since his past life that tragically ended in World War II. He had almost had her then, they were even engaged. A German bullet ended his impending triumph prematurely. Sometimes he wished she could remember too. ‘You should go out more too, you know. Meet some girls.’ ‘Girls …’ ‘There are things a girl can do for you …’ ‘I’ve forgotten all about them. Come here and refresh my memory.’ She tilted her head and displayed some mock indignation. ‘Other girls. Not me. You should get that in your head, if you really want me to move in with you.’ ‘Why? I thought that was decided?’ ‘Well, yes … still. Your constant flirting is making me feel uncomfortable at times though.’ ‘Those must be very rare I reckon. Every. The thorns always get me." You should wear gloves." I said."Gloves?" She raised her eyebrows, as if that were a novel idea. She smiled. "Yes. I suppose I should. Now what did you say about flowers?"I bought a dozen red roses and told her where to have them sent, and she got them from the cooler: beautiful, long-stemmed flowers, with a scent that would be overpowering if it came from anything but a rose. But the real story here wasn't the flowers I sent to Mandy. It was meeting Virginia for the first time. That was her name and she was the owner and sole proprietor. She'd been working around the corner from my apartment for five years without my knowing it at all.She wasn't very busy that day--she was never really busy—and I was so amazed at having stumbled into this tropical hothouse in the slush of March in Chicago that I just stuck around a little bit. She didn't seem to mind, and was happy to stand at the counter and chat.There was something about her that I liked immediately. She.
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She sank two cups of coffee, most of the time sitting on my lap. She recognised me as Count Dracula which argued a reasonable amount of observation. She called me Dracula. I called her Sugar-Plum. Gradually she explained what had happened. Brian was her current boyfriend but not the father of her baby. The baby’s father is a married man who hadn’t admitted that he was married until Sugar-Plum was four months pregnant. Until then he had been pretending that they would marry before the baby’s due date. Brian had been a friend before she met the unnamed married man and had comforted her when she had been brutally dumped. But it seems that Brian was a bit of a prude. Sugar-Plum’s costume had been a surprise and a shock to him. The plum concealed the bump but emphasised her recently increased breast size. He had objected to the display. He had drunk too much. They had argued before he stomped out of the front door in a huff saying that he wanted her but not the bastard. She said.

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