Come Up Smelling Like a Rose...Or an Orange
"This," Madeline declared to Sam as she pulled out a group of bottles from her bottom shelf, "will help you relax."
Sam eyed the bottles dubiously. "I don't think of perfume when I think of feeling calm, Maddie," he said.
"It's not perfume," she explained. "they're bottles of essential oils." She held out a tiny brown vial. "This one smells like cherry - it's supposed to bring wealth. And the vanilla is supposed to calm you down."
"So if I want to be rich and calm I should walk around smelling like a cherry float?"
"I'm not saying you have to do this, Sam," Madeline said. "I'm saying that if you want to keep seeing me you might want to consider it."
What was it about Maddie that made even her wishes for prosperity sound like a threat? Sam stared at the bottle for a moment, then shrugged.
"What should I use if I wanna sleep better at night?"
***
Michael sniffed the air as Sam entered Café Carlitos the following day. "Fi, did you switch perfumes?"
"No," she replied. "Why?"
"Something smells like flowers. Expensive, French flowers."
Sam's eyes darted about. "Must be someone at the next table."
"No, it's too close to be the next table," Michael said. "In fact, it's coming from your direction."
Fiona put down her paper and smirked. "Sam, why do you smell like lavender."
He glared at Fi for a moment, then sighed. "All right, you've got me. It's your mother," he told Michael. "She wanted me to try aromatherapy."
"Oh God, not more of her fad following..."
"This one works pretty well," Sam confessed. "I've been wearing Lavender oil since Monday and suddenly I can sleep at the drop of a hat."
"Is that supposed to be a new?" Fiona asked.
"I'm telling you guys, aromatherapy is the way to go," he insisted. "I've never felt more rested!"
"Uh huh," Michael said. "Want to hear about our client now?"
"Might as well. After all, I'm bright-eyed and bushy tailed."
***
To Sam's amazement, it actually worked. When he wore vanilla, he felt calm. When he wore musk, he felt sexy. When he wore lavender, he felt calm AND he slept better. It was like discovering that Little Blue Pill all over again, only this time he didn't have to worry about accidental and never-ending priapism.
Downright thrilled with this continued success, Sam actually endured the slings and arrows of Fiona and Michael with cheerful good humor. He was pleased, of course, with how things were turning out.
At least until his Navy buddies started teasing him about the way he smelled like coconut all of a sudden. Since when did he NOT buy Old Spice? What had happened to him, to make him want to smell like ylang-ylang? It was almost frightening, how confusing his new Sam was to them. Sam, meanwhile, just gave his friends an affectionate roll of the eyes and shook off their criticism.
It was, however, different when strangers got involved. When a woman at the Laundromat asked Sam what kind of perfume he'd put in his wash, the tipping point was reached, and he made Maddie a huge dinner with all the fixings as he prepared to lower the boom.
"Maddie, honey - it's not you, it's me. I wasn't meant for a calm, balanced life that makes me smell like lily of the valley..."
But then she came to him with another tube of sweetly-scented oil. "It's cinnamon bark. And it's supposed to increase your tolerance of alcohol."
Well, how could he refuse?