I return home to find a huge flower bouquet waiting for me, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did he send it?

It’s Garry, the big sweetie pie!


My husband brings me flowers. Not every day, not even every week. But regularly. I have to assume that anytime there is a bouquet awaiting me, it’s from Garry. I have never been wrong.

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Exactly what the bouquet will contain varies from week to week depending on what they happen to have in the floral section of Hannaford and Garry’s mood.

Last week, it was yellow roses. Before that, chrysanthemums.

The roses are fading … and we are into the “mortgage payment.” No new flowers until next week, I fear.

I look forward to them. The anticipation makes it all the sweeter. My husband is a keeper!

14 thoughts on “NOT-SO-SECRET ADMIRER”

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