On the first morning a snowman stood outside the flower shop with a rosemary branch for an arm. On the second it held a little bouquet of dry leaves. On the third it acquired a top hat made from a black plastic flowerpot. Emina assumed the bakers next door were joking. They insisted their snowman would certainly have a three-story belly and something edible for a nose.
The flower shop did poorly in winter. Emina was already considering leaving the premises when passersby began stopping for the snowman. Some photographed it, some bought a carnation, some simply came in to get warm. One evening she left it a strip of red fabric. In the morning it wore the strip as a scarf, tied with a precise tailor's knot.
Then she suspected Vahid, the upholsterer in the courtyard. He was forty-six, divorced, and worked in a shop where a radio always played. For years they had exchanged small favors: she accepted his deliveries; he repaired her wobbly chairs. He had never invited her even for an ordinary coffee. When she asked whether he knew anything about the snow, he said he knew it would soon melt.
Emina rose early and arrived before the delivery. She found him repairing the snowman's nose. Vahid stood with a carrot in his hand, looking comically guilty. He admitted seeing her sad post about possibly closing and wanting to make something that would attract people. He had not intended it as a secret courtship, but while tying the scarf he had realized it was.
"You can ring my bell," Emina said. She unlocked the shop and made coffee. Vahid sat on a chair he had repaired himself and finally asked whether she would take a day trip with him on Sunday. She did not promise before checking her orders. That pleased him more than a quick answer given out of gratitude. When she said she could, they also agreed where to eat, because snow was a poor substitute for lunch.
The weekend turned warm. The snowman lost its head, then its hat, and by Tuesday only a ring of dirty snow remained. Emina washed the flowerpot and returned it to the shop. Business did not suddenly bloom; she negotiated lower rent and shortened her hours. Vahid helped only when she asked. In March he brought a rosemary plant and said they could try keeping this sculpture alive. She placed it on the window between their two workshops.