Chapter Text
Katya’s love for flowers was slow starting. She remembers being 8 and hearing her mother joke with her friends about how useless of a gift flowers were.
“They’re just going to die! They’re going to wilt and fall apart and then what do you have? A dirty vase!” She had exclaimed.
And then Katya realized the truth to her words. She hid that thought away, thinking about how when she had a husband, she didn’t want to receive wilting flowers as a gift. How strange to be gifted something that was already dead! She wanted her husband to bring her home chocolate just like her father brought her mother. She bounded up the stairs, pulling a book from her shelf to read. Still scoffing at the idea of flowers as a gift.
Then she turned 13 and she still thought the idea of flowers was stupid. This time, she wanted her wife to bring her books. She had never been the same after her birthday and Easter had fallen on the same weekend. That was a chocolate induced stomach ache that almost seemed worse than having a husband.
Katya was 17 when her grandmother died. Before her death, she had insisted on there being flowers at her funeral.
“Yekaterina, your mother is going to insist on a simple funeral. That’s fine. I don’t care what I’m wearing, or what I’m buried in. But I want to be surrounded by flowers. All kinds. Lots of them. I want my rotted corpse to be surrounded by beauty,” She had said with a small smile and a dreamy glint in her eyes. “Especially peonies. Those little bulbs of beauty are my favorite.”
“You want your dead body to be surrounded by dead plants?” Katya had deadpanned.
Her grandmother smiled, taking her right hand in both of her shaky ones.
“They might be dead but they’re so much more beautiful than most living things on earth. No one can live forever, why should we expect flowers to? I’m surprised, you’ve always been into the macabre, Katya. Found the beauty in it. Yet you don’t see the beauty in flowers? Just because they’re not dark?” Her grandmother laughed, then grimaced, repositioning her body on the couch into a more comfortable position. “Don’t let your mother brainwash you. Give me the damn flowers.”
A week later Katya sat in the front row of the church, tuning out the monotone of the Russian Orthodox priest. She stared straight ahead at the closed casket. The dark sleek of the casket was overshadowed by the bunches of flowers laid on top. Her mother had found a florist who created a runner for the top of the casket, peonies that were pressed so close together that it would be impossible to count all of them. Vases of flowers lined the altar, an arch had been created to halo the casket and it took Katya’s breath away.
It was colorful. A mess of random flowers that were fitted together to create beautiful arrangements that Katya wished her grandmother could see. She had asked to be surrounded by beautiful flowers and surrounded she was. Most of the flowers were taken to the gravesite and left until they were too wilted to be recognized. Some were taken back to Katya’s house and dried to be kept as a last connection to the matriarch of their family.
At 17, she couldn’t name most of the flowers that were present at the funeral. All she knew was that the image in front of her was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. In front of her was a tangible, temporary beauty, but it was imprinted on her mind and it would last as long as she did. An immortal tribute to her grandmother.
At 36, she could name them all, could remember the color and the arrangements they were placed in. She could tell you if they were in season at the time of the funeral and how much that whole scene would cost today.
She had worked in multiple floral shops since high school, opening her own when she turned 27. Nine years later and they had bought a bigger shop to move into. Business was booming, going beyond selling single bouquets of flowers. They were providing arrangements for all sorts of parties, different events. The weddings were never ending and Katya enjoyed working on each one.
But now Katya was proofing all the blueprints for their new shop, signing off on invoices while still trying to provide the impeccable service she had become known for. She was constantly going between the two shops, doing floral business still at the old one and meeting with contractors and interior designers at the new.
“This is so expensive,” Katya sighed as she shuffled through another set of invoices. The numbers blurred as she flipped back to the first page. “Where’s the write up of the savings report for the Whirlpools?”
A paper was flung at her, which Katya slid closer to her as her eyes went between the two papers. Most of the cosmetic infrastructure of the new shop had already been stripped away and Ginger had set up a flimsy card table for their use in the meantime.
Ginger was her business partner, the woman that kept her head on straight at work. Made sure that Katya was being levelheaded and had control over the business. Katya was sure she owed her more than her life.
“We already decided on the fridge. We know what we want. We also already decided on everything else,” Ginger gave Katya a few more seconds of over analyzing the notes from the contractor before she snatched them back. “We just have to send in the word that we’re ready for them to start.”
“I just feel like something isn’t right,” Katya grabbed for her planner at the edge of the table.
In a fit of anxiety, she had created more to-do lists than she could manage. She ran a finger over all the checked off boxes, reminding herself that they were in the homestretch. She just had to see the progress that they had made. All that was left to do was give the contractor the green light and they could start. The checks were printed, they just had to be signed and handed over. Katya had thought that this would bring a sense of relief, but her stress was replaced with another round of anxiety.
What if it ended up looking horrible? What if they didn’t have enough room for the flowers? What if their company grew even more than expected and they ran out of space quickly? Did they decide on enough refrigerators? Were the shelves in the fridge big enough? They had done the math so many times, triple checking their measurements. But Katya still insisted that everything was going to go to shit.
“The only thing that isn’t right to you, is your lack of control over the next step. Everything is written as we want it, they said they can start tomorrow. So sign those damn papers and then lets grab a smoke before heading back to the shop,” Ginger said as she pushed a pen closer to Katya.
Katya signed her name at the bottom of the plans before pulling out her phone. A quick call with her contractor later, she was stuffing her loose papers into her shoulder bag. It was old and falling apart, but it had been a gift from her parents when she first started her business.
“If you look like you have your shit together, your clients will trust you,” Her father had said as she opened it and it had served her well. In its glory days it was shiny and the leather smelled of potential. These days it was peeling in parts and there was a hole in one corner that Katya refused to acknowledge.
She slung it over her shoulder before following Ginger out of the shop, shaking a cigarette free from her new pack. She was fishing her lighter out of the front pocket of her bag, eyes cast downwards as she walked into the sidewalk. Her fingers curled around the plastic as she bumped into a woman walking past her.
“Sorry!” The woman threw the phrase over her shoulder as she continued walking, golden blonde hair bouncing as she turned her head forwards. The spiral curls drew Katya into a trance and then Ginger was laughing and breaking the hold the woman’s hair had on Katya. Katya’s eyes flickered down, taking in the keyhole cut-out of the woman’s pink dress. A tattoo peeked out but Katya couldn’t make it out.
Her skirt was bouncing, matching the cadence of the woman’s steps and the hem got dangerously close to the swell of the woman’s ass. Katya’s mouth ran dry as a particularly strong gust of wind pushed the skirt even higher and Katya held her breath as it picked it up another centimeter. In an instant, the woman’s hand smoothed down the side of the skirt, holding it down. Her nails were painted a bright yellow and the image of the fingers being pushed into Katya’s mouth took over Katya’s psyche.
Then the woman turned the corner and Katya was forced to turn her attention back to Ginger who had already locked the door and was halfway done with her own cigarette.
“You done, perv?” Ginger barked before exploding into laughter at Katya’s blush.
“Let’s go,” Katya murmured as she lit her cigarette and began walking back to the car. Leaning against the passenger door, she stared into the burning end of the cigarette. She kept glancing up and over, in the direction that the woman had walked. Without finishing it, she put it out and finally opened the door to the car.
*
Katya pressed her palms into her closed eyes as the shop door slammed shut. Her afternoon had passed quickly at first, then the consultation with her new clients had moved so slowly. Katya had felt her skin crawling halfway through, the weight of the job and the remodeling choosing that moment to threaten to make her crumble. The anxiety and stress had struck her so heavily, and the lack of ability to move had caused her blood to boil. The meeting had drawn on for hours and it quickly became an event that Katya was not looking forward to.
It was a couple, in for wedding decorations and Katya could tell at first glance that the job was going to be painstaking. Their clothing was sleek, the diamond on her finger blinding and his Rolex gleamed. The pictures they brought with them had excited Katya, ‘floral overload’ seemed to be the theme they were going for. Then they had muttered something about an unlimited budget and then pulled out a strict list of what they didn’t want. Katya could feel the creativity draining from her body, trying to find its freedom before she had to tamper it down and create the basic arrangements that they were drooling over.
“Don’t couples like that make you want to get married?” The sarcasm was dripping from Ginger’s voice as they watched them walk away.
Katya hummed as she turned away. It was time to go home, she just needed to pack up and then she could enjoy the rest of her night. Not that there was much of it left, but it was enough for her to sit down with a book, but end up watching TV instead.
“Imagine spending your whole life with someone you hate, playing a circling game of ‘Keeping up with the Jones’’ only to have your picture-perfect partner cheat on you after you have a child,” Ginger shook her head as she sank into one of the seats previously occupied by the engaged couple.
“Bitch, you’re married,” Katya hurled at Ginger, pointing out the flaw in her observation.
“Yeah, but my husband and I are real people,” Ginger hit back at Katya.
“Okay, bitch,” Katya laughed as she closed her bag. She sat down, enjoying the calm of the end of a work day. Her eyes fluttered closed as she thought about taking off the heels she had worn that day, ignoring the pair of slippers she had stashed in her desk drawer. She wanted the extra 20 minutes of ache to make the moment of her bare feet hitting her carpeted floor even sweeter.
“Have you put your face in anyone’s pussy lately?” Ginger broke Katya’s moment of silence. She opened her eyes, fixing her stare on Ginger. Her blue eyes narrowed, initiating a standoff with Ginger’s hazel gaze. Ginger held her own, winning the battle as Katya shook her head, scoffing and pushing herself up and off the chair. “The silence says it all!”
“Oh, fuck off,” Katya picked up her bag, swinging it out and then onto her shoulder. Ginger ducked, narrowly avoiding the assault.
“It’ll help!” Ginger followed Katya out of the shop, pulling out two cigarettes from her own bag as Katya locked up. She offered one to Katya, her own form of an apology. “Give you an outlet to let out some of the anxiety. Let’s you feel like you’re in charge of something.”
Katya lit her cigarette and leaned against the shop door, waiting for Ginger to finish her spiel before she made her way to her car.
“Noted. Anything else you want to comment on before we part ways?” Katya raised her eyebrows, ready to tune out whatever Ginger was going to say next.
“Charge your vibrator,” Ginger sniggered at the blush that blossomed on the tops of Katya’s cheeks.
“Anything else?”
“Nope! See you tomorrow!” And then Ginger was walking away, a little cloud of smoke puffing up over her head that quickly diffused into the night air.
“Bye bitch.”
Katya began her walk in the opposite direction, taking her time getting to her car. Her home would be there when she got there. There was no need to rush when she’d order her pizza on her own time. The TV shows and movies would still be there on Netflix when she got there. Her shower wouldn’t turn on without her.
When she got into her car, she rolled the windows down all the way. The wind rushing into her car drowned out her music as she drove and she hummed a tune different than the song that was playing.
People have always told Katya that she was like a tornado. When she entered a room, she destroyed everything in her path. You could walk in after her and know Katya had been there. You could track her movement down to where she stopped for a smoke break. Katya had laughed when she first heard it, she had been young and boisterous and taken it as a compliment. At 36, she was less like a tornado and more like a contained explosion. Instead of making a path, she made the places where she settled a cesspool of Katya.
After entering her apartment, Katya slipped off her heels, hissing as her feet flattened on the ground. They were pushed against the wall, ready to be slipped on in the morning, her bag was dropped at the edge of her couch. It was after she entered her bedroom that her clothes were stripped in record time, being thrown somewhere near her hamper. The clunky jewelry she had bothered with that morning were taken off next. She pulled on the sleep shirt she had left on her pillow and then was back in the living room in record time.
The pizza had been ordered and delivered, a movie had been chosen and Katya had propped her feet on the crowded coffee table. In a fit of restlessness, she bent over, grabbing her work bag off the floor. Her foot moved as she regained balance, pushing a pile of magazines and napkins to the floor. The soft thud too quiet to startle Katya.
She stuck her hand into the bag, fingers curling around the edge of the first folder she felt. She paused as the potential for her night flashed before her eyes. She could sit there, munching on cold pizza as she went through files and polaroid’s and sketches and flower lists that she already had memorized, just to end up falling asleep on the couch. Like the previous night. And the one before.
Katya slowly let her bag fall to the floor, backing away from the routine like an animal trying to escape its predator. She pushed herself up, standing on wobbly legs, her left food asleep from propping up the right one. Limping to her bedroom, she pulled off her shirt, letting it fall to the floor. The night breeze sweeping into her room through the open window tickled her bare chest, causing her nipples to perk. She ran an index finger over the wrinkles formed on her areola, before flicking the bud.
Nothing.
She knelt at her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open. She rooted through the miscellaneous shit, pushing various dildos, silk ties, and handcuffs out of the way before she found the bullet vibrator she was looking for.
“Please work,” she mumbled as she pushed the button on the end. A red light flashed and the vibrator remained still before the light disappeared and Katya threw it back into the drawer. She promised herself to charge it in the morning, but she had already forgotten by the time she began rooting in the drawer again.
She pulled out another vibrator, not what she wanted but it would have to do. She only reached for this one when she was in a pinch and tonight was that night. She twisted the end and it vibrated for two seconds before the intensity died down and it stilled.
“Fuck!” She unscrewed the end, letting the batteries fall onto her open palm. The batteries were coated in thick white crust and Katya sighed as she looked into the cavity. There was crust all in the toy, covering the spring and all inside the cap. She threw it into her trashcan as she grabbed her phone.
She didn’t need a vibrator. All she needed was a little bit of starting inspiration, maybe a bit of lube and two fingers. She spent all of her broke 20’s with her hands down her pants, the luxury of vibrators and dildos not necessary. She pulled down her panties, stepping out of them and kicking them up, snatching them out of the air in a fluid motion. They were the first article of clothing that night to make it into the hamper, but Katya wasn’t paying attention.
She laid back in bed, fluffing her pillows before leaning back all the way. She closed her eyes and reached back into her mental spank bank. She pulled up the images of the models in the old Playboys that she used to steal from her older brother. Some were nude, some wearing sexy lingerie. Some of them had different colored hair, but their faces were interchangeable. She flipped through but none of them had sparked any bit of desire in her. That went to the back of the box and she moved through the rest of her rolodex.
Image after image flashed through her mind, but she didn’t feel anything. Katya gave up, unlocking her phone and pulling up her private safari window.
“Don’t let me down, old faithful,” Katya whispered as she scrolled through her pornsite of choice. Her left hand trailing down her body, resting over her mon pubis.
Sexy Russian woman punishes her student. Katya paused, fingertip hovering over the thumbnail. It began its 3-second preview and Katya continued scrolling. The student looked like an actual student and Katya was past the point of fantasizing about someone that young.
Hot Brunette MILF does anal. Katya clicked on the video, skimming ahead past the dialogue. She watched for a few minutes, completely disinterested before exiting out and scrolling down the main menu again.
Hot women having sex on a deck. Women fuck next to a bonfire. Woman uses candle wax on her partner. Anal fisting. Two ghosts caught having sex on camera.
That last one made Katya stop, curiosity taking over as she clicked on the video. Her fingers dipped down, running through her pubes lazily. She watched the whole 30-minute video, laughing amused chuckles as two “ghosts” fucked. She climbed under the covers after the stars of the video climaxed, slipping a hand beneath her pillows and fell asleep early.