Marion is not your ordinary, run of the mill mother, grandmother. She is what used to be referred to as a rebel. Having her son visit frequently was nice, having him accompany her to the market was nice, but what Marion was looking for was, you guessed it, a lover. She perused the neighborhood for any new available men. She was determined not to spend her last days alone.
It was at a time of forlorn loneliness she noticed Mr. Tannenbaum watching her at the flower shop. He was a looker, even being, she surmised, much older than she. Mr. Tannenbaum came calling one day at tea time, four o’clock. He arrived dressed well, with a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. From then on, every third day he visited again. This was the type of courtship reminiscent of her youth, and she fell in love. She assumed he had the same feelings since he repeated his timely visits.
These private times, they discussed current events, their unfulfilled dreams, staying away from their past, previous love lives, and family. This was a romantic relationship for the two of them alone. They often spoke of being together for their remaining years, much to the hope of Mr. Tannenbaum especially. He had been everywhere, done everything, led a checkered past and just wanted to settle down for good. Marion was not so much in a hurry, even though she was extremely attracted to him.
The day came when Mr. Tannenbaum decided to pop the question. He was sure her answer would be positive and his life would be complete. Marion’s answer surprised him.