One Rose Too Many

A scent of dusk. Or dust.

Karmel woke up, lying in bed next to his lover. One of them, anyway.

"Be a dear, get me my mug, love," he said.

Next to Karmel, a womanly body heaved. With a stretch and a yawn, she lazily got out of bed.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Anything," he said.

The woman climbed out of bed and trod into the kitchen. Little burbles came out of the kitchen, and the smell of roast coffee.

"Do you really love me?" she asked.

"Why yes, of course I do," Karmel answered without any doubt.

"Then why do you always make eyes at other women?" she asked confusedly.

"I already told you," he said. "I love them a lot and one's my wife."

The woman moaned. She put down the coffee mug on Karmel's bedside, and lay down next to him again.

"Look, Karmel. I'm not asking for a lot. I just want to know that I'm special for you."

"Oh, but you are, Rose," he answered. "Do you see anyone else lying in my bed naked?"

He had a point. Yet, something remained amiss.

Looking around the room, Rose felt for a clue. Catching sight of a crossword puzzle in the mirror, she found out how the pieces fit.

"Look, mister. I know you're all sweetness and light with me. But I'm well-read. I know what you're up to. And there's only room for one rose in this bouquet."

Karmel stammered.

A computer printout underneath the crossword puzzle showed order records for a floral arrangement company. Underneath Rose's name was another woman, apparently also called Rose. She had received the same three items, on the same date.

"I can smell a cheat," she said indignantly, "and I want you to cut off your other Rose."

"Well," said Karmel. "If that's the way you feel, then I'll just have to let Rose know that I love her but can't see her any more."

Then, turning around, her added: "Rose, listen dear, I'm terrible with names, and you'll have to remind me which Rose I'm supposed to break things off with. I think it's one of my florist, but I'm not quite sure which. I do love them all."