Chapter Three
As soon as the train stopped, Albert hurried off the subway to the street above. Part of the line had been closed for repairs, so he was forced to get off a few stops earlier than he usually did, which meant walking home and arriving much later.
Poor Mama will be worried sick, he thought, starting to feel a bit anxious himself. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother.
So he walked as quickly as he could, passing apartment buildings, laundromats, drug stores. A florist shop.
He slowed, his eyes lingering on the flowers in the window for a moment; then he stopped, lost in a daydream.
I got these for you, he'd say sheepishly, offering the bouquet to Rose–
Albert shook his head. Where had that thought come from? Imagining giving R–Ms. Alvarez, he corrected himself– flowers.
She could put them on her desk, he thought. Brighten the workplace a little–
Albert groaned and began walking again, trying to push the image away and instead focus on getting home as soon as possible.
But he couldn't get Ms. Alvarez out of his head. Or the thought of giving her flowers, of all things.
"Why did I call her Rose?" he muttered to himself. "I've never called her that before in my life... Maybe it was seeing the roses in the window that did it. Yes, that must be why," he decided.
And then he was home. His mother's frantic chatter was enough to push all thoughts of his secretary from his mind for the rest of the night.