The bouquet was sitting in front of our apartment door when I got home. Bright pink roses and yellow Gerbera daisies paired with rustic milk thistle and stems, a mason jar vase tied with ribbon and burlap and nestled in a white cardboard box, bunched red tissue paper spreading in its own bouquet. Not pretentiously elegant, but pretty enough to be romantic. We wish we knew where it came from; and was it meant for me, or for Debbie? Was it a late Valentine’s delivery? There was no note and no indication of the provenance of the flowers.