Wildflower (9 page)

Two days had gone by and Iris hadn’t heard from Preston.  Fine.  In a steaming hot bathroom, Iris stepped out of the shower — which lasted about forty-five minutes.  The burning hot water felt torturous and that’s exactly what she needed.  She wanted something to dull the emotional pain she felt over losing Preston.

What the hell? She hardly knew him. Here she was pining over a man who, at best, was great in bed. He was a great kisser, too. And funny. He had a great smile and listened to her.  So what? He was supportive — whoop-de-do.

She said she didn’t know where he stood in her life but who was she kidding? She did know.  She fully understood what place he held in her life. She loved him.

She loved him?

She dried off with the plush towel Preston had left behind from his last sleepover.  She placed it against her face, breathing in its scent that reminded her of him.

She hadn’t eaten anything since he left. Her appetite was gone.  Her nerves were shot. She thought about calling him. But she wasn’t the one who had walked out.  She wasn’t the one who had done anything wrong.

“Damn you, Peter!” she shouted, as if blaming Peter would ease some of the burden she felt. It didn’t.

She missed Preston’s touch, the way he comforted her when she felt low. Whenever she thought about her mother, he had been right there with an attentive ear and consoling embrace.

She missed his laugh, too. It was a throaty laugh, one that didn’t come from the diaphragm but rushed through his throat like compressed air.  She loved that laugh.

She had earned the right to wallow in self-pity right now.  Her ex-husband had just ruined her relationship with her new man — his brother.

Damn. Brothers. Talk about poetic justice. She smirked at the thought of it. Peter snagged her best friend, impregnated her, then moved her into the dream house. Now Iris was with his brother — his estranged brother whom he apparently despised. Ah, the sweet justice.

Idris had brought her a Healthy Choice meal that he’d tossed into the microwave.  He complained that she hadn’t cooked for them, but she ignored him. She ate the microwaved meal, standing up, while staring out the window. But she couldn’t finish it.

She rubbed her eyes, blinking hard, shaking her head a little, trying to get him out of her mind. She could still feel his hands caressing her, his lips kissing her, his thickness filling her.  She missed him and feared he might not come back to her.

Her phone vibrated and she ran to it hoping it might be Preston.  But it wasn’t. It was a text message from Jess.

Jess:  I need to stop by. What time works?

Iris thumbed out a response:  Never.

Jess:  Stop moping. I’m coming over.

Iris: Fine.

***

Jess arrived at the building.  Iris saw her on the closed circuit TV and buzzed her in.  When she arrived at the door, Iris was actually glad to see her.  Jess was dressed seductively and Iris suspected her wardrobe selection was in hopes of snagging Idris.

It worked.

When Iris introduced Jess to Idris, he had lockjaw.  Iris had never seen him clam up like that around a woman.  After their introduction, Jess gave Iris the rundown of why she was there.

“You look awful, girl.  You need to stop wallowing in pity and get your butt out of this apartment.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil, but I don’t need your pep talk.”

“Fine. I’ve got to be out of town. You have to fill in for me,” Jess said. “It’ll be pretty simple. I just need you to help Pru finalize the minor details of her engagement party. She’ll be pretty busy with her job so you’ll have to take the lead.”

Iris saw Idris listening — well, not really. He was watching, looking at Jess.

“Okay.  I’m only doing this while you’re away, right? I’m not into these last minute planning crunches anymore. I gave that up when I divorced Peter.”

“I know. It’s just until I get back and, like I said, Pru needs all the help she can get. Her father keeps her busy at work and she hardly has a moment to plan anything.”

“Fine.  Is that all?  I have more wallowing to do.”

“Girl, go get that man.  Stop playing around before you lose him for real.”

“That’s what I told her,” Idris said, “but she won’t listen.”

“See, even your brother agrees. Sometimes we’re forced in directions we ought to have found for ourselves.”

“Well, my
brother
has a lot of nerve, considering he’s the one who created this mess.”

“Me? How?”

“You let Peter in.”

“I did no such thing. Where’d you get that crazy idea?”

“All I know is Peter said you let him in.  Why? You knew I had company.”

“Yes, I did. Which is why I didn’t let him in. I told him you had company and that he needed to call you. I never let him in.”

“Then how’d he get the key?”

“I didn’t give him the key.” Then he thought about it. “The spare… He found the spare over the door frame.”

“He left the key on the counter. I put it in the key tray.”

“Your ex-husband is a slick one,” Jess said. “Call me if you have questions about the checklist.” She kissed Iris on the cheek.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Idris volunteered.

Jess smiled and winked at Iris.

Iris rolled her eyes.

“You’re so transparent, Jess,” Iris said as they walked by.

Day five and still nothing from Preston. Damn him. Why was he being so obstinate? She scrolled through her call list and hovered over his number.  She was going to break the silence once and for all.

But what if he meant it? What if he was the kind of guy who said goodbye and meant it the first time he said it? What if it really was over? Her heart pounded in her throat at the thought of it.

Her phone lit up. It was a 713 area code. She knew it wasn’t Cam.  Unless Sara had a new number, it wasn’t her.  Then it occurred to her that she deleted Peter from her contact list. It was probably Peter. But she’d told him not to call. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to ignore her demand.

She pressed ‘answer’.

“Iris, we need to talk,” Peter said.

“We already talked. What else is there to say?”

“Meet me. Have some lunch with me. That’s it. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

***

Peter arrived first. He was closer to the location than she. He was anxious to talk to her.  He needed to tell her — she deserved to know about Sara and the baby.  He had no idea how to do it, though.  He’d rehearsed the words over and over in his head and none seemed quite right.  None seemed to convey the complexity of what he had to tell her.  But he knew it was time to do so.

He was surprised by the way it felt to see Iris again.  Not just because she looked good — which she did.  He was stunned by her — and by the fact that his feelings for her hadn’t changed.

He also liked looking at her. One of the reasons why he had arrived early was so he could watch her walk in.  She was a sight to see, breathtaking.

He ordered two coffees. He picked the table by a window in the front of the restaurant, mainly so that she’d see him when she walked in.

***

Iris arrived at Yolk.  When she pulled the door open, she saw Peter sitting by the window. She moved toward the table.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, noticing he’d already ordered for her. She could smell him over the aroma of the coffee — he smelled good.

“Wow, you look ravishing. New dress?”

She nodded. “Yes, all of my clothes are new. I had to start over, remember?”

All she wanted was for Peter to get to the point. Why did he need to meet with her in person, forcing her to endure his devastating smile, hard body and hypnotic eyes?

Confessions.  Redemption.  For several months, she’d hoped for reconciliation, but seeing him like this, in this environment, in this light, brought back all the hard memories — the pain, the loneliness, the rejection.

She toyed with asking him 
why
? Why did he leave? What happened?  But she feared she’d sound desperate, insecure and needy.  She wanted him to have the impression that she didn’t care one way or the other, that he was inconsequential.

And even though she was forced to stare into his probing brown eyes, watching him lick his lips when he thought they were a little dry, noticing his muscles flex when he lifted his cup to his mouth, she saw that he was contrite, as he should have been.  She sipped her tepid coffee.

“When I said I want us to have a second chance,” he began, “I meant at being civil toward one another. We once loved and respected each other enough to get married. Why shouldn’t we be able to have a decent relationship now that we aren’t married?”

She nearly spat out her coffee. What a crock. He was testing her a few days ago to see how she’d respond. She knew Peter.  She understood how his mind worked.

“Why now, Pea? I mean, I’ve moved on and you’ve clearly moved on. We really don’t have any reason to be civil or even in contact.”

He got up and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, caressing her earlobe. He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear.

“Not having you in my life makes it seem meaningless.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to accept that he’d seen the light, that he’d had his burning bush moment.

Forget her.
That’s what Preston kept telling himself.  Don’t think about her. Stay away and no calls.  Simple.  Straightforward. Concise. Yet, it was probably the hardest thing he’d ever attempted to do.

He loved Iris.  He knew ever since their first date that he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her, laughing with her, loving her.  She was the best thing that’d ever happened to him.

Now, because of Peter, because of the unwritten social rule about brothers’ and friends’ exes being off limits, Preston felt he could no longer be a part of her life. It was the right thing to do.

He tied his running shoes and started out to break in his brand new bike. He rode until he reached the lakefront trail then locked his bike on the rack and ran meditatively for miles. His mind was on only one thing — Iris.  He missed her. He needed her.  Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Iris’ building on Chestnut, contemplating ringing the buzzer.  He just wanted to see her, maybe talk to her.

But he didn’t buzz her.  He jogged down Michigan Avenue, still trying to work things out in his head. He hadn’t known her long — surely he could put her behind him and move on.

As he ran along, he saw her sitting in Yolk, holding hands with Peter.  He stopped and stood, staring in the window, befuddled. Peter got up and sat beside her, caressing her ear. Preston stumbled back when he watched Peter kiss her. She didn’t resist.  He stood there frozen, glowering.

He put both his hands on the top of his head and bent over as if someone had hit him in the stomach. A couple of kids on skateboards rode by, forcing him to move.  When he looked up, Iris’ eyes connected with his.

He turned on his heels and jogged back to his bike then returned to the hotel.  He stood at the window looking out at his magnificent view — alone.

***

Iris ran out of the restaurant but Preston was gone.  She stomped her foot and threw her body in a twist of disappointment. Peter ran out after her. He rested his hands on her shoulders but she pulled away from him.

“I don’t know why I agreed to meet with you, Peter. You’ve been nothing but trouble and heartache for me. Just go away. Leave me alone.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Tell me something, Peter.”

“Okay…”

“Why did you divorce me? I want the truth.”

“I was stupid, that’s why.”

She shook her head violently. He
was
stupid but that’s not the answer she was looking for.

“I see you’re not going to be honest with me. I was a fool to think you would be.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Iris.”

“Nothing. I want nothing from you.  You’ve done enough to screw up my life. Just leave me alone.”

She rushed to the street to hail the cab that was approaching.

***

“Nadine, I need a drink.”

“Okay. Want to go shopping?”

“No. I want to drink.”

“Meet me at the boat. I’m on my way.”

Iris closed her eyes, so irritated with Peter she could hardly breathe. Things had been going just fine in her life with Preston until Peter showed up.  She was pissed that she had accepted Peter’s invitation to meet at Yolk. First of all, Peter had no intention of being honest. Secondly, his feeble attempt at burying the hatchet only infuriated her even more.

She arrived at the
NADINE
and waited at the locked gate for her friend to arrive. The ducks were walking by scavenging for crumbs.  She sat on the bench next to the harbor convenience store, biting her thumbnail.

When Nadine arrived, they boarded the boat.  Nadine had no inkling of how to navigate the boat, so they remained docked at the harbor.  It was still nice and peaceful, though.  They sat in the lounging chairs, soaking up the sun.

“I was thinking of going to one of those AA meetings,” Iris said.

“No. Those are terrible.”

“Why?”

“Do you think it’s helpful for a bunch of people who are in the same boat to congregate together and share sad stories of why they are such pitiful losers?”

“I wouldn’t call them pitiful losers. I mean, you and I are also alcoholics — that would make us one of them.”

“I will never be one of them. And neither will you. You don’t need those meetings. If you want to talk to someone, hire a professional. Go to a shrink.”

“I can’t believe I fell for Peter’s crap again.”

“I can’t believe that you’re still talking about it. Face it, the man doesn’t love you. Get over it. You’re seeing someone who does love you. Focus on him.”

“I would, if he hadn’t left me.”

Nadine laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“The man left you because you’re so miserable right now.  Chin up, child. Put on that pretty smile and hold your chest high. Nobody likes being around a sour puss. I know. I’ve been there.”

They sat quietly, sipping lemonade and soaking up the sun.  Nadine turned on the music and they relaxed the remainder of the afternoon.