This short story was written in response to Esther Chilton’s prompt word of the week. This week’s word is: Rose…

---

“Why didn’t you tell me before I set off?!” Callum asked. 

“Must have slipped my mind. I’m sure you’ll think of something, Golden Boy!” Matty said before hanging up the call, his cackle ringing in Callum’s ears for a good few minutes after. 

“Balls!” Callum said aloud. 

Mum’s birthday! How could he have forgotten?! It was the same day every year and she’d had sixty-seven of them. How had he managed to forget?

He was furious at himself. Especially since he was usually so good and always remembered. 

Matty’s flippant ‘Golden Boy’ sign-off hadn’t been far off the truth either. Callum had always been the favourite. Mum had never said it aloud, but he knew. So did Matty. And even after thirty plus years of brotherly tussling, Matty still revelled in the idea Callum might one day turn up at Mum’s house with egg on his face.

Their mum lived deep in the countryside. She moved there after Callum and Matty’s dad died, seeking peace and solitude. She sought a place to hide away and immerse herself in the quiet life, choosing tiny villages to settle down in, away from the hustle and bustle of urban life. In her opinion, the fewer the amenities, the better. She might let the presence of a Post Office or local shop slide, but any more than that, she’d soon be house hunting. 

Of course, it made for wonderful, picturesque living. But not so good for last minute gifts from a son who had forgotten her birthday.  

His hands tight on the wheel, Callum drove on, his mind racing.

***

He arrived at his mum’s. He looked over to the house and the first thing he noticed was a twitching curtain. Then Matty’s face. Then Matty’s grin. 

Callum gave Matty a wave and walked around to the back of the car. He popped the boot, reached inside and then lifted out the most beautiful bouquet of roses, making sure he did it slowly, and that he had a great view of Matty’s smirk collapsing in on itself. 

And what a view it was! Full of calories. One to dine off for weeks.

He gave Matty a little salute and made his way up the cobbled path to their mum’s house. He didn’t need to knock as she was already waiting in the doorway, eyeing the bouquet of roses and gasping at how many were packed into it.

“Happy Birthday, Mum!” he said, throwing his free arm around her and kissing her cheek.

“Thank you, Callum! And what a lovely surprise!” she said. 

She gestured to the bouquet, “And are these for me?”

“Of course! Only the best for Mum on her birthday!” he said.

“Oh, they’re so lovely! Your brother bought me some roses too.” she said, taking the bouquet over to the table to put them alongside the much smaller bouquet Matty had bought her. “Do you want some tea, Love?”

“Ooh… yes, please, Mum.” Callum said. “One sugar.”

Matty came down the stairs as their mum went off into the kitchen. It didn’t take an expert in body language to see he was pretty unimpressed.

“Just couldn’t let me be the Golden Boy for once could you? Go on then…” he said. “How did you do it? There’s no florist around here for miles so you can’t have stumbled across a shop.”

“That’s true, but it turns out there is a florist delivery service in the area today and I happened to flag them down,” Callum said. “and the lovely driver agreed to make me a bouquet from the existing orders, sliding a rose or two out from each order on the van.”

Matty shook his head, “Unbelievable. How do you always come out smelling of roses?”

“Ah, never mind,” Callum said, grinning and laying an arm over Matty’s shoulder. “There’s always next time. Now, let’s go and find some jugs to put these flowers into.”

He picked up a tea cup. “Here you go. This’ll be big enough for your bouquet.”

---