The mother was preparing the meal while whistling a tune. She tasted it and noticed it needed more salt. The table, ready for lunch, had a tablecloth with green squares and a vase with roses. The youngest son entered the kitchen and sat down in one of the wooden chairs.
“Is the food ready?”
“Not yet, Georgie. It won’t be long.”
“Where do these flowers came from?”
“A very handsome young man brought them a few minutes ago. I think they’re for your sister. Albert received them and put them in that vase.
“It has a card,” said Georgie who took it and read it. “To the… most… beautiful… woman. The most beautiful? My sister is hideous.”
“Don’t say that about your sister!”
Georgie grew silent. Albert, the oldest son, entered the kitchen, looked at the flowers with a smile and sat down next to his brother. The mother put four plates on the table.
“Did dad use to give you flowers?” asked Georgie.
“He did. He knew I liked them.”
“Many people give flowers. It’s very unoriginal,” said Albert.
“You’re wrong, son. It’s a detail that never gets old, but to be sure, they can ask subtly if we like them. I’m sure there’s some girl you’d like to send flower to, right?”
“Uh… of course,” answered Albert.
“So, they only give you flowers if you like them?”
“That’s right, Georgie. Where’s Marcie? She hasn’t even seen the roses.”
“I get it,” said Georgie. “My sister likes flowers and that’s why someone gave them to her.”
Marcie entered the kitchen a few minutes later. She sat down and noticed the vase in the middle of the table.
“Mom, I’ve told you a million times I don’t like roses.”
“Oh, sweetie. A very handsome young man brought them to you.”
“You’re mean, Marcie,” said Georgie.
“I’m not! I just don’t like them. By the way, whose card is this? It was next to the trash can.
“Can… can I see it?”
Albert lunged at Marcela to snatch the card. They fell off the chairs and the mother screamed as they both rolled on the floor. The card fell at Georgie’s feet, who picked it up and read it.
“I get it. My brother likes roses!”