It was a dried yellow daisy.
One petal was missing.
The stem had darkened with age, and the flower had been pressed almost completely flat.
But I knew exactly where it had come from.
I covered my mouth.
"Oh, Aaron."
The graduation hall disappeared around me.
Suddenly, I was back in time.
Mary had still been strong enough to leave the hospital for a few hours that day.
She had spent the previous week complaining about hospital walls, hospital food, and everyone treating her as though she might break.
She wanted to do something normal.
So, I took her shopping.
Graduation had still been months away, but Mary had made me promise that we would find her dress.
"No depressing colors," she told me as we walked into the store.
"You haven't even looked yet."
"I already know."
She headed straight for the racks.
Aaron came with us, pretending he was bored.
Mary held up three dresses before she found the red one.
The moment she stepped out of the fitting room, she smiled.
Not the tired smile she had learned to give doctors and worried relatives.
Her real smile.
She spun once in front of the mirror.
"This one."
Aaron laughed.
"You look like a fire alarm."
Mary threw a price tag at him.
"You have no taste."
We bought the dress.
On the way back to the hospital, Mary asked me to stop near the small garden beside the entrance.
Yellow daisies were blooming along the walkway.
She bent down and picked one.
I told her she probably wasn't supposed to.
She grinned.
"Arrest me."
Later, from her hospital bed, she tucked that flower into a book.
I had forgotten all about it.
