AN: I did a good bit of reading on different websites about the different meanings of rose colors, numbers in a bouquet, etc. It would have been nice if they had all agreed, lol. But think I summarized the overall consensus fairly well. If not, chalk it up to creative license. Thanks for reviews, they motivate me to write faster. BTW – bonus points to anyone who catches the reference to another AL movie in this chapter.
Jessica put the last of the dishes from the omelet dinner in the drain, replaying the kiss with Seth in her mind, still feeling the sensation of his lips on hers as she smelled the lingering scents of his aftershave while she automatically wiped off the counter to complete her work.
She thought over the events of the day. Just a day of friendship between two widowed seniors, that was certainly all it appeared to be, but she couldn't put her finger on why it felt different. He had been nothing but gentlemanly, everything he had done had spoken of friendship. She had been one who had potentially crossed the friendship line when she had leaned in for the second kiss.
"Stop it Jessica you're being foolish. Maybe you're trying to read in something that just isn't there. Does that mean you want it to be there?" She thought as she consciously touched her lips, not sure she was ready to answer her own question. She had been kissed by other men since Franks death, but this felt different. She wanted to put it away, compartmentalize it as she did with the others where a kiss was just a moment of affection that both parties knew wouldn't go any further, but the feelings that had stirred this evening were not ready to be shut away.
Her analytical mind refused to let it go as she started replaying the day for the third time, this time instead of focusing on his departure, she thought back to the morning, from the minute Seth had walked into her kitchen. Jessica recalled the sounds of him setting the vase on the table and putting food in her refrigerator for the dinner they had just shared. That certainly spoke of preplanning, though she supposed he could have stopped at the market on his way to her house. Maybe an impulse stop, as opposed to planning she mused. But he seemed to have planned everything perfectly, down to the smallest detail, had he also just stopped by the florist before the market for that perfect array of roses? The roses…. The roses… she suddenly realized there was something off there but what?
She sat down at the table, now studying them as if they were a piece of evidence. "Where did Seth Hazlitt get a perfect dozen roses on Valentines in a town this size? I remember Ms. Hobday at the florist telling me they had completely sold out of roses by the 11th and didn't expect a shipment for another week. He hasn't had time to go anywhere else, even if they had a better supply, which is unlikely, and even then he would have put forth special effort". Jessica looked at the bouquet thoughtfully as with this evidence she could conclude that he had likely been planning this for days. He certainly hadn't picked them up at the market with the eggs and cheese.
So, there had been some planning and what appeared to be a good deal of effort from her doctor friend. What did that mean? She let her mystery writers mind continue to churn through the possibilities. Deciding to continue her research Jessica moved to her bookcase. She quickly located a book on rose meanings she had acquired for research on one of her early novels. Taking the book back to her kitchen table she opened it to the section for pink roses and began skimming the pages.
"Just as I thought, this is one of the most ambiguous rose colors there are," Jessica sighed exasperated. "It can mean anything from appreciation, happiness, friendship to romance," obviously she wouldn't find out the answer from the color alone. But there was still something she was missing, she could feel it as she slowly reviewed the facts.
"Seth gave me a dozen pink roses, instead of red ones, which could be for romance, but it could just as likely signify friendship. You spent the day doing the same activities you do on many other days and….." she stopped in mid thought… "a dozen pink roses?" Turning she realized what had seemed off as she carefully counted them and realized there were 13 roses instead of 12. Had the florist miscounted? She wasn't sure as she counted again before turning back to her book, her heart now thudding as she felt the familiar buzz she felt when on the verge of solving a crime as she leafed a few pages ahead to read the meaning for receiving 13 roses. 13 roses can mean friends forever or secret admirer. Exasperated she dropped the book on the table, he clearly wasn't planning to make it easy for her. Despite his country doctor exterior, Seth Hazlitt was an intelligent man, and he could be sly especially if unsure how she would respond. Which he would certainly be right there as she wasn't sure herself how to respond to the possibility of deeper intentions.
"Oh Seth," she almost growled in frustration at the contrasting possibilities. Counting the roses one more time, she gave another appreciative sniff of their fragrance before she began automatically locking doors and turning out lights as she headed to her room, lost in thought.
Lying in bed she replayed the events of the day one last time, one final time replaying the kiss to try to discern if the first time had it been accidental or intentional when he tilted his head and their lips met but with no clear answer. Accident or not, the second kiss was much more purposeful on her part. "You wanted that, to feel a man's lips on your own. And not just any man, but Seth, was it a moment of weakness, of gratitude, or something else?"Jessica asked herself, recalling his unusually masked expression at the gesture, there had been no shock or embarrassment, he had just waited to see what she would do. "Oh Seth, what is going on in that head of yours?" She asked as she closed her eyes and started to drift to sleep, not surprisingly with Seth and roses on her mind instead of dwelling on memories of Frank.
