In a small town, as rural as one can be and yet be defined as a town, an old flower shop sits off a side street, long forgotten but still lovingly maintained by its owner, Emily Bronson. Widowed ten years ago at age 42, she refused to abandon the small flower shop her father had opened when she was a girl. Emily’s husband had provided enough for her in his will to allow her to keep her little greenhouse behind the shop operable and to live in the residence that was part of the shop.

The front of the shop became almost obscured over the years, with tree branches drooping in the yard between the shop and the street out front. The concrete driveway had broken up little by little until it looked more like cobblestones and loose rock.

Next door in a house slightly smaller than the flower shop lived Emily’s best friend, Wilson Greer, who preferred to be called “Willie.” Widowed himself, Willie was impressed with Emily’s devotion to growing flowers and donating them and plants to people in the local hospital, most of whom she had never met. He and Emily became close friends in no time.

On one particular afternoon, Emily was leaving the back of the shop, walking towards the greenhouse in back when she heard a loud clanging noise next door. She rushed across Willie’s back yard and knocked breathlessly on his back door, “Willie! Willie, are you all right?”

More clanging and a soft moan from inside compelled her to open the door. Stepping inside, she saw Willie struggling to get to his feet, numerous pots and pans littered the kitchen floor. It was as though he was stepping on marbles; he kept slipping each time he reached for help on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

He grasped at anything but only succeeded in pulling more pans from their stack onto the floor around him. Emily smiled at his predicament and stepped closer to extend her hand to him. She saw the mountain of flour too late and her foot slipped as well and she tumbled face first onto Willie’s flour smitten coveralls.

They wrestled in the flour, each trying to help the other until they realized they were only hindering each other and their giggles evolved into thunderous laughter amongst the field of pots and pans around them.

Willie leaned onto his side and Emily slipped her arm around him and suddenly they realized the closeness of their embrace. Smiles faded as Willie touched her cheek and pressed his lips to hers. Emily did not protest, but clutched him tighter as the kiss became more passionate.

Something that had lingered between them for a long time had come to light, and they both felt it simultaneously.

Willie managed to get to his knees, stepping out of the flour and extended his hand to her. Emily rose to her feet with his help but did not let go of his hand. They stood that way for an awkward moment, and then Willie moved back a step, and then another, until they were moving from the kitchen into his hallway. Wordlessly he led her to his bedroom. Emily was impressed with how neat and orderly the room looked and smiled at the rumpled bed covers, so out of place with the rest of the bedroom. Willie drew her close and they embraced, hugging like the old friends that they were.

When Willie kissed her again, Emily cupped his face in her hands. Willie felt more than warmth from her palms; he felt comfort. When the kiss ended, he stepped back, unsure of how to proceed but determined to show his intent. He unbuttoned his coveralls, rolled them down to his waist and unbuttoned his shirt.

Knowingly, Emily sensed the same feelings and began undressing as well. Both of them had not undressed in someone else’s presence in a very long time. When at last they were naked, they laughed embarrassingly when they caught each other staring in similar areas.

Emily moved to the bed and lay down and Willie went to her side. His large gentle hand followed his eyes across her body, caressing more than feeling her curves until his palm gently slid between her thighs.

Emily put a hand behind his head and pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips whispered but one word of approval against his, “Willie……”

Foreplay was merely tender kisses and a probing finger but it was slow and caring. When Willie finally positioned himself, Emily openly invited. As they joined, Emily bit her lower lip like a young girl with her first time. Willie moved with the passion and respect of a true lover, taking her on the journey they had both missed for so long.

Their lovemaking culminated in a series of groans, moans and considerable panting. Willie kissed her again tenderly as they disengaged and lay by her side. They cuddled for a few moments and he murmured, “That was wonderful, Emily; thank you.”

She smiled and replied, “It was lovely, Willie; I should like to do it again sometime.”

He smiled, sitting op on the bed, “Yes, but first I have that mess in the kitchen to clean up.”