Olivia loved her garden. Loved the attention necessary for its prosperity. Loved the seemingly constant need to resupply the supplies. Loved the flowers, especially. Their myriad colors were just shy of a rainbow. The roses and lavender were her favorites, followed closely by the tulips. Raymond simply adored the sunflowers, their name fitting them perfectly.<br/><br/>For him, what far surpassed all the floral loveliness, however, was the diligent honeybees that always invaded their flower beds. He could stand there for hours, observing their activity from flower to flower, as more and more pollen accumulated on their legs. Once bee instinct kicked in, or maybe their legs just felt heavy, they’d take to the air, returning to the hive to unload their treasure. Then back to the flowers for more. The buzzing sound they always produced was a genuine bonus.<br/><br/>Raymond was so taken with the busy insects that he actually considered learning to become a beekeeper. They certainly had the space for it on their property. And then Olivia’s accident derailed any and all plans of honeybees. Perhaps one day, he’d find the time for it, though with the tremendous news of Jakob soon leaving for the academy, he doubted it.<br/><br/>And there was that word again. Accident. As far as he was concerned, she was not involved in an “accident.” She was the victim of a murder. One in which her killer eventually walked away scot-free. Justice indeed. He wondered if that asshole even. . . .<br/><br/>Wishing to rid himself of the dark clouds in his thoughts, his mental attention shifted to his son. That was all he needed to brighten his outlook, because right there was cause for celebration. Not only did he conquer his stigma of being examined by a girl doctor, but to be handpicked to attend<i>Top Shelf Academy</i>? Well, it didn’t get any better than that, in Raymond’s opinion. His only wish was to have had Olivia there to share in the fabulous news.<br/><br/>With a heavy sigh, he left the garden while tying the mini bouquet of fresh-cut flowers and some greens together. He affectionately placed it on the passenger seat of his Ford and headed inside to inform Jakob where he was going. Really, he needn’t have bothered. The boy’s focus was on the TV and the carnage he was causing the Covenant. Though truly, Raymond wondered if he was invisible, seeing as how his offspring didn’t even glance his way. Not once!<br/><br/>Following consecutive headshots to a Jackal, Grunt, and Sniper, all was quiet on the virtual battlefield. Which of course, wouldn’t last long. The perfect opening. “Hey Chief,” his dad said, tongue conveniently tucked within cheek. “Gonna head into town for a quick pit stop. I wanna get some proper ingredients for a celebration dinner for you and your awesomeness.” Jakob beamed at him while patiently waiting for the next map to load. “Be right back, buddy.”<br/><br/>“Okay, Dad,” he said, while the sound of thunderous explosions trailed after his dad’s retreating form. Raymond smiled, while thinking, Game on, baby!<br/><br/>Without looking, and because really, who didn’t like surprises? Raymond reached for a disc from his nylon, travel-sized CD binder. The Ford Raptor in reverse, he loaded the disc while glancing behind him. With a bass line to match, the soulful, sultry vocals belonging to Annie Lennox of Eurythmics filled the cab. It was the band’s<i>We Two Are One </i>track from their<i>We Too Are One </i>album. He loved the pair of titles’ subtleties. The disc was one of, crap, he’d lost count. What was it, 12? Maybe 16? Anyway, once he started to burn mixes for his wife, well, let’s just say he got a little carried away. The blank discs he used could hold 80 minutes of music. That’s a lotta music on one CD! Oh, yes.<br/><br/>Raymond’s only criteria when choosing songs and their order for her was that they be all about her, in any and all ways imaginable. He even went so far as to name the set,<i>Olivia’s Honeybees. </i>By no means would he ever be mistaken for an artist, but he fooled around enough with graphics packages online to settle on a design that adorned each disc’s slim, jewel box.<br/><br/>A solitary red rose occupied the left of the cover art, while a lonesome honeybee hovered on the right, seemingly on approach. The insect’s “altitude” was a bit higher than the flower’s, as if it was an F/A 18 Hornet coming in for landing on its aircraft carrier. In order to differentiate between volumes, he inserted a number plate, such as those seen on a race bike, onto the eager worker’s abdomen, between the black and the yellow segments. The number within that plate signified the volume being played. Annie’s and Dave’s sizzling tune was a part of Volume 8.<br/><br/>Moments later, the Raptor’s engine ticked and pinged as it cooled. A lone door closed while his boots crunched on the gravel. Raymond sat amidst the weeds and gravel, leaning against a wooden utility pole. His floral bundle was placed to his right, also leaning against the wooden utility pole.<br/><br/>He was at The Intersection. As he’d done numerous times before, he blankly stared at the pavement, from all possible sides of advancement. There was only four sides, with no skid marks to be seen from any of them. After all, any sign of skid marks would indicate the use of brakes and/or evasive maneuvers. Olivia didn’t brake as she approached the intersection. And why would she? The green light was in her favor.<br/><br/>“I miss you,” he stated, barely enough for the breeze to hear. “And I, um, kinda sorta think about you almost everyday.” Raymond laughed, and then added, “<i>Almos</i>t being the key word.” He laughed again, knowing the complete falsehood behind that statement. “You’d be so proud of Jake, sweetie. He got a letter from an elite hockey academy. I’m on my way to pick up some celebration stuff for us. Make him a special dinner for tomorrow. We’ll be thinking of you,” he said. Jeans dusted off, he stood in front of the flowers, smiling at them as if Olivia was there, smiling back at him.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;&lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>All Raymond was carrying was one of those hand baskets, thinking he didn’t need a shopping cart to push around. He wasn’t planning on being at the supermarket much longer, but his basket was already close to overflowing. The golden stars within his basket were a pair of 12-ounce T-bone steaks and a pound of jumbo tiger prawns. Father and son sure loved their surf –n- turf, especially cooked over a charcoal grill. No propane usage at Casa de Sanheim!<br/><br/>Produce was the last section for him to visit. Two ears of corn turned into corn-on-the-cob were gonna complement the main course just fine. He’d leave it up to Jakob as to whether he preferred rice or mashed potatoes, or some other spud variation. They were also low on fresh fruit, he remembered. Raymond’s casual pace stopped immediately, though he knew he hadn’t been spotted yet, while at the same time, doubtful that she’d remember him even if she had.<br/><br/>It was Dr. McCallington, who appeared to be locked into a staring contest with the entire grapefruit section. She was grossly outnumbered, too. And that was just the top layer! Raymond seriously considered turning around and picking up their produce from somewhere else, but then he recalled her name on Olivia’s death certificate. The least he could do was say hi, right? Yeah. Right.<br/><br/>“Y’know, doctor, they don’t bite,” he teased. “In fact, they’re pretty sweet. Well, as sweet as grapefruit can be.” As if to prove his point, half a dozen of the plump fruit found their way into his basket. Was that a ringing endorsement, or what?!<br/><br/>Although she appeared to be on the cusp of responding, Raymond was on a roll and he needed to get outta there quickly. But he said it anyway. “Uh, I know about how you and Dr. Wicks were at my wife’s side the night she died, doing your best to save her,” he said, surprisingly with clear eyes. “Um, I stumbled upon her death certificate while searching for something else and saw your names at the bottom. Just so you know, I will be forever grateful of your efforts.”<br/><br/>Could the good doctor truly be tongue-tied? Didn’t seem her way. Perhaps what he had to say about Olivia had blindsided her immensely. Well, no sense in loitering, as he didn’t wish to be mistaken for being rude. “You have a good evening, Dr. McCallington,” he finally concluded.<br/><br/>Turning on his heels, he went to pay for his items, which was conveniently on the way past the beer aisle. His free hand would be picking up a 12-pack of IPA. Raymond greeted a few familiar faces along the way, laughing and joking while doing so.