Robbie Is Sorry

I couldn’t sleep, it bothered me so much. Almost none of it was my fault, but still. Guilt.

I checked my watch. Flying international, you always have to be at least two hours early. I wondered if this hotel had a phonebook. I checked the nightstand and there it was, right there with a Gideon Bible and the Book of Mormon.

I called the first florist listed. “What do you have to express regret?” I asked, feeling foolish.

“Iris and Bird of Paradise,” the voice said without hesitation. “Or roses and daisies, if you’re on a budget.”

“Both,” I said.

 

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