Burning Bloom

Marjorie was NOT jealous of the crowd surrounding the booth with flickering, magical flames along the edges and a banner embroidered with a dragon silhouette. When the booth owner flicked her golden eyes towards Marjorie, she rearranged her display of honey, setting jars down with a thunk. The cold glass of each jar was a strong contrast to the golden eyes, occasionally glancing her way. She kept her head down, rummaging through her display like a game of chess. She refused to let this woman steal her gazes too, even if she was attractive.

"Any luck?" her sister asked, interrupting this little game. She set down a plate of two, huge chicken and cheese empanadas from the Argentinian vendor a few booths away- a saving grace.

"No suerte." Marjorie sighed and sat, slumping against her elbow as she set her plate on the table. The jars of honey clinked and the table wobbled. "Esta lento hoy." She took a long swig of her coffee, comforting herself in the sharp bitterness softened with a splash of goat milk. She always looked forward to the days she could go to the Farmer's Markets to sell fresh jars of honey and market her apiary business. Her grandmother introduced her to the practice when she was a child. After she spent years working in a stuffy, old, corporate office, she threw it all away to return to her roots.

"Everyone loves your honey; it'll pick up."

"Hopefully." Marjorie's hope was realized. As the Texas sun dragged its shadow across Marjorie's awning, people started approaching her booth; it was a trickle, but Marjoirie was grateful. There was little humidity, and there was a cold chill in the air that made Marjorie wrap herself in her black and coral colored shawl. A small live band set up on the platform. "You been workin all day."

Marjorie shook her head. "Estoy bien." Her sister shrugged and scrolled through Tik Tok videos on her phone before shortly excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

Marjorie glanced at the space people made for dancing. Maybe taking a break wasn't such a bad idea. She wandered through the hum of conversations and the flutter of wind against leafy plants and tablecloths. The live band composed of fiddle, drums, guitar, and bass released lively, country tunes that invited children to twirl each other and laugh. She felt the itch to dance herself, but with whom? Suddenly, She felt like someone was staring at her. She glanced over her shoulder to catch the golden eyes of her competitor. Her gaze was transfixing, and it made her shiver. She shook it off, and figured she better get back to work.

She arrived back at her booth to see her sister still scrolling on Tik Tok and a white woman examining her jars. Just as Marjorie was going to greet her, the woman looked her up and down with icy blue eyes. "Do you speak English?"

The white woman had looked at her face, her hair, and her dark skin and already decided she didn't belong in this country. She hated that she was used to this look and this accusatory tone. Why couldn’t she just start off with a simple hello? She cranked out a smile anyways, raising her chin, and responded. "Hello, yes-"

The woman blushed and covered her paper thin lips. However, she continued to cut with her words. "I’m sorry, you just didn’t look like someone who spoke English."

Marjorie and her sister exchanged glances. She crossed her arms, thick brows furrowing, as she tried to keep her chin raised. She summoned the meanest stink eye. However, before she could give this lady a piece of her mind, the golden-eyed lady approached the white woman with an indignant stance. "M’am, fuck off; you’re being very rude," she said with what sounded like a growl. Her voice was husky as she towered over her.

An older white man scooped her in his arms, and turned her away. "Come on, dear."

"No, she just looked like someone who didn’t speak-" He managed to get her away before she could finish her sentence, and Marjorie was glad.

The golden-eyed woman looked her way, and Marjorie hated that she was trembling in her concerned gaze. Her jaw was wound tight, feeling every muscle tensing. "I didn’t need your help," she seethed, wielding her anger like a double edged sword. She bolted away from the booth, away from the warring feelings of indignation and embarrassment. She cut through people carrying plastic bags full of goods, her mind full of rage. She found a spot near an oak tree. She leaned against the sturdy bark. Tears pricked at her eyes.

"You dropped this."

Marjorie jumped. When did she? How did she? She was fast. As she held her wide brim of her straw hat against her palm, her eyes lingered once again too long on this stranger. The woman’s imposing presence imbued Marjorie with a sense of calm as the sun kissed her dark skin and her long, black braids, streaked with flecks of fiery red. Marojorie’s eyes dropped to her dirt smeared boots. They were still holding her hat. The woman was staring at her too, as if she were a sunflower nodding along a wired fence. She cleared her throat and quickly plopped the hat on her head as her cheeks felt warm, no longer kindled by anger, but something more sultry. "Th-thank you."

"You’re welcome.” The woman smiled. “I also came to see if you were okay.”

A heavy weariness returned as she thought about that rude white woman. She didn’t want to bare her soul to this beautiful stranger; so she pulled up her walls. "I’m okay."

Marjorie peaked up and felt like she was looking straight through her. Warmth radiated off the woman, and it fought away the chilly winds. Even though her walls were up, she treacherously thought about what it would be like to be held by this woman. She wondered if it would feel like the rays of an early morning sunrise.

The woman tucked her hands in her pockets as she huffed, taking on an indigent countenance. "I’m sorry you had to go through that."

Marjorie shrugged, and she mentally kicked herself for automatically excusing that lady’s behavior. "She was just being ignorant; she probably didn’t mean any harm."

"But the impact is still the same."

The truth stung. So, Marjorie raised her mental sword. "So what do you want? A thank you?" she asked bitterly. If this woman was looking for some kind of pat on the back, Marjorie would not be the one to give it.

However, the woman smirked, taking in her bitterness and not backing away. "Nah, I just hate racist jerks."

"Me too." They met glances like a king approaching a queen on a chess board.

"Well, I was looking for a fine jar of honey," the woman said with a smile.

Marjorie smiled back this time, grateful for the change in topic. She was feeling way too vulnerable for her liking at that moment. "I can help with that."

The golden-eyed woman arched her brows. "My hero."

Marjorie laughed as she lifted off the tree. "I’m sorry I didn’t even get your name."

"Aurelia, you?"

"Marjorie."

"Your booth has had me intrigued for quite some time," Aurelia said as they strolled side by side back to her booth.

"Oh really? I can say the same."

When they arrived back at the booth, her sister asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine.Thank you."

"I came to see about you, but I saw you were alone with the lady so, I wanted to give y’all some privacy."

Marjorie threw an arm around her shoulders, kissed her cheek, and hugged her. “You’re so funny. This lady- Aurelia wants to get some of my honey.”

“Y’all want that much privacy, y’all should getta room.”

A blush limned sinuously across her face, her chest overwhelmed with fluttering. "Ana!"

Her sister grinned."I'm gonna just go; think I want some lemonade now."

"Ana," Marjorie pleaded, but she was lost in the crowd, leaving her alone with Aurelia who was sifting through the jars. She cleared her throat. "So, um, what kind of honey you lookin’ for, do you want somethin’ sweet or nutty or…?"

"How about spicy?" she asked, an inscrutable smile curling onto her face.

Marjorie's throat went dry as parched soil. Marjorie's cheeks were on fire as she reached in her bag and revealed one of her favorites. She placed both palms on the smooth, green cloth, and leaned forward. "Well, I gotta sweethearts blend that has a nice kick."

"Sounds interesting; I think I’ll take it. What else do you have?" Then Aurelia picked up one of her balms. "I love natural balms"

Marjorie preened. "This is great for moisture; I use it myself for my hands and my lips."

"Do you have a sample?"

Marjorie nodded and reached into her bag again. She pulled out a sample balm. "Give me your hands," she said so fast. Why was she getting all worked up? She did this with every customer. She found that applying the lotion to the customer's hands earned her a good nod on customer service. But her heart was still pounding under the ardor of her gaze.

"My pleasure." Aurelia opened her hands.

Marjorie swallowed, her heart beginning to race like the whine of a dragonfly over a bayou. She dipped her fingers into the heady balm. She tenderly donned it on Aurelia’s palms, which were rough in a way that suggested she worked with her hands a lot. Marjorie’s hand glided over her palms, tracing each knuckle all while holding Aurelia’s gaze as if on command. Marjorie’s thumbs pressed softly into the center, savoring the gentle warmth. The curl of honey and rose bloomed in the space between them.

Aurelia took a deep breath, as if she were spellbound by this moment and wanted to savor it too. "So, Marjorie, tell me more about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

Marjorie mentally prepared herself, dreading if this woman was going to ask her where she was from. "Tell me something fun," she said, surprising Marjorie.

"Like a fun fact?" Marjorie asked with a laugh.

Aurelia laughed, its sound a purring rumble. "That does sound rather corporate, doesn’t it?"

"If I tell you something, you have to tell me," said Marjorie, deciding to sate her curiosity.

Aurelia nodded. She grinned. "I like a good trade."

“I like to talk to bees like they’re my friends.”

"Cute."

Marjorie blushed. "Your turn."

"Hmmm, I tend to keep a hoard of collected items like stones and notes from my customers." As Marjorie caressed her arms with more of the balm, she felt a titillating pulse, vibrating off Aurelia's skin.

She reluctantly released Aurelia’s hands. "There, how you feel?"

Aurelia rubbed her hands together and inhaled the scent off them. “That balm really is something. I’ll take that and the sweethearts blend.” As Marjorie handed off a bag of the requested items, Aurelia smiled. "Thank you; I think I owe you."

Marjorie shook her head. "Not at all! This is my passion; it makes me happy to do this."

"I insist," she said, and Marjorie felt her resolve come undone at what she said next. "I’d like to owe you a dance."

"Oh!" Marjorie glanced at the platform that was still playing lively music. After everything, she really did deserve a break. "Okay." She told Ana where she would be and to watch the booth. Ana teased a little, but Marjorie was too excited to care.

After making sure the booth would be secure, she joined Aurelia at her side. "Ready?"

Marjorie nodded, and Aurelia led her to the middle of the bystanders. She took one hand and rested the other on Marjorie’s hip. The warmth of Aurelia’s touch lingered even through her flannel shirt. The country music swelled around them like the rooster signaling the sunrise she watched almost every single morning. Aurelia pertly led her through the familiar tug and pull of the Texas Two-Step. When Aurelia spun her, she landed back into her arms as if she had always belonged there. At that moment, it didn’t matter where she was from. The only thing that mattered was the present right here with Aurelia. "You are quite fascinating, Marjorie. Tell me more things about you."

"Some nights when I can’t sleep, I get up an’ bake some lavender cookies."

"I’d love to have a taste of that."

Marjorie could think of more things she wanted her to taste, but she pressed her lips together. Instead, she they swayed like the soothing motion of a rocking chair. "Your turn."

Aurelia spun her. "I like star gazing."

"Oh really, me too! I like to stargaze with a nice cup of tea mixed with citrus honey of course."

“I want to taste that too."

Marjorie’s heart was pounding. "What else do you like?"

"I think I’d like a date with you."

"Me too."

A Couple Translations:

Suerte: luck

Esta lento hoy: It's slow today