Wildflower (7 page)

She awoke to the phone ringing. It was him — Preston. He wanted to see her again. It had been four weeks since they’d met, and he called nearly every day wanting to see her. Of course she obliged him. Even though she never had plans, she’d always give him a little bit of a hard time, pretending to be busy. She didn’t want to seem too anxious.

She rolled over in her bed, wrapping the covers around herself like a cocoon. His voice was familiar, heavy but soft.  Although she liked the way he said her name, she loved when he occasionally called her Wildflower. He had a seductive way of rolling it off his tongue.

She looked forward to seeing him this evening, more so than previous nights. To begin with, each time she saw him, it was fun. And last night, Iris had a particularly wonderful time. With him, she felt like she was living dangerously and taking risks because he was a virtual stranger that she had given her heart and body to. She knew he had nothing to gain by being with her — but she, on the other hand, felt like she had so much to lose. Reminded of Peter’s abandonment, Sara’s betrayal, and her mother’s indifference, she wasn’t ready to have another person reject her.
Proceed with caution
was her mantra.

On the other hand, she was ready for something new — prepared to throw caution to the wind. It would have been easy for her to dive in head over heels — actually, maybe she had. And it felt good because for once in her
sober
life, even though she knew better, she was doing something impractical.

Throughout the day, she contemplated what she would wear, how she’d wear her hair, what color she’d paint her nails. She was running out of outfits that he hadn’t already seen her wear. He scrutinized her with his eyes every time he saw her, so she was certain he would notice a repeat outfit.

It’d been a long time since Iris had been excited about a man. Preston seemed a little rough around the edges, but that was exciting to her. She liked his careless abandon.

It was like her life got out of the way for the moment, so that she could enjoy herself. She didn’t think about her grief over her mother’s death. She wasn’t concerned about finding a job and paying bills. She wasn’t sulking over Peter’s betrayal. She wasn’t worrying about her future. None of it entered her mind. Life just cleared a path for her to enjoy herself for a change.

There was an elegance about her, a quiet reserve that he found unsettling.  Preston watched her enter the restaurant in an easy stride. Her dress flowed behind her.  Her hair, perfectly coiffed, bounced with each step she took.  He reveled in her solemn brown eyes and sweet mouth, which was glossed in pink.  How’d he get so lucky?

He toyed with telling Iris about his past – about Amanda. Iris seemed like the kind of woman who’d understand, who’d be forgiving and accepting of what happened.  He was on the verge of a confession until her eyes met with his.

That smile.
  Her smile was infectious.  It melted him.  He wanted a future with her and, well, he didn’t want to keep secrets from her.  But then Kathy entered his mind – his former lover, the woman who tossed him aside in London. The cold chill of her leaving him, of never wanting to have anything to do with him again, left a sour taste in his mouth.

He’d told Kathy about Amanda, which was something he’d said he would never do. But he thought Kathy deserved to know the truth – to know his past.  When Preston told Kathy his secret, Kathy said, “I can’t do this. I can’t love you knowing what I now know.”

No
, to tell Iris about Amanda would be relationship suicide. It had already killed the bond he had with his family, and then the relationship with Kathy.  Did he want to risk losing Iris, too?

“Don’t I deserve happiness, too?” he mumbled to himself. He stood and waved Iris over to the table.

***

Brushing her hair away from her face, she saw Preston flagging her down.  He was smart. She liked that he’d taken advantage of the beautiful day by getting an outdoor table.

Iris smiled at him.  He was the perfect height…not too tall and definitely not too short. He wore a short-sleeved crew neck shirt that flattered his biceps and pectorals. She liked his lean hard body.

As she made her way to the table, she saw that this was a self-serve restaurant of the Texas Luby’s or Piccadilly’s variety.  What was it with Preston and his restaurant choices?  Maybe this type of place was big in London.  She shrugged it off.  She didn’t really care because she was more interested in seeing Preston than being wined and dined.

After standing in a long line, they made their food selections, filled their plates then returned to their table.  She watched Preston mix his potatoes into his chicken, which was drowned by some sort of gravy.  He spooned his peas into the heap and scooped a spoonful into his mouth, embarrassed when he noticed her staring.

He dabbed his mouth with a napkin he pulled from the tin on the table and grinned.

“I’m sorry. Am I being rude? You’ve hardly eaten and I’m scarfing down my food.”

She shook her head, smiling, trying to avoid his eyes unsuccessfully.

“I have a pretty big appetite,” he explained.

Iris cut into her roast.  Preston sat his spoon down — he preferred eating with a spoon — and put his hand atop Iris’.

“Here, let me cut that for you,” he said.

“I can cut my own meat, but thank you.”

“No, no, no, Wildflower.”

She chuckled. “I’ve been cutting my own meat since I could handle a knife. Why can’t I cut my meat now?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Listen,” he smiled, then continued, “You shouldn’t have to do anything for yourself.  Not one thing.”

“Oh? Why not, pray tell?”

“You’re a star.  Stars don’t
do
, they just
be
,” he explained.

She snickered, “You’re so full of crap, Preston.  Good one, though.”

He cut a piece of her meat and fed it to her. “Good?”

She nodded. “Mm. So much flavor.”

“Here, have another,” he said. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the fork, savoring the succulent piece of meat.

Preston smiled, “I love watching you eat.”

“People complain about the way I eat. They say I eat too slowly. I think it keeps me from over-consuming.”

“Sounds like you’re being very responsible, not overdoing it.”

“Most of my life, I’ve been the responsible one. My brother got to be careless but I didn’t.”

Preston caressed her cheek with his thumb as she continued.

“Sometimes I feel like I haven’t really taken any chances, you know? I haven’t done anything spontaneously — not really.  I want to do something crazy and carefree. I want to dive into the deep end of the pool without considering how cold the water might be. I want to drive fast on the freeway and not worry about getting a ticket. I want to wake up one morning and do something life changing without taking days, weeks, months, even years to think about it.”

“Sounds like you’re ready to experience all that life has awaiting you.”

“I am, Preston. I am.”

He stood, leaning across the table and she met him half way, closing her eyes to his kiss.

He sat down and fed her another piece of meat.  He watched her eat it seductively. It was truly a turn on for him.

“So, Preston, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime…” she paused realizing his focus had shifted to something else.  He looked at Iris then looked away again.

“Preston,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“I’m just curious, why…”

He abruptly cut her off mid-sentence and said he’d be right back.  His attention had been drawn to someone else, another woman.  An older woman.  Iris watched him get up from his seat and hop over the railing that separated the café’s patrons from the pedestrians.  He approached the woman carefully, so as to not startle or frighten her.  The elderly woman was stuck.  Her walker, sort of the Cadillac of walkers with a basket for transporting things and a seat, too, was caught on something, preventing her from moving forward.  The unleveled cement cracked into a deep protrusion which prevented her walker from getting over.  She couldn’t lift the walker either because she had it loaded down with two grocery bags.

“Can I help you with this, ma’am?” he said politely.

“These damn cracks,” she said with a wobbly voice.  “I can’t get my walker across them.”

“Here, let me lift it a little.”

She smiled, now free of the impediment.

“How far are you walking? I can carry those bags for you.”

“I’ve been using my walker for years to carry my groceries, and I always get stuck. Nobody bothers to help anymore.”

“A beautiful woman like you? No way.”

She blushed.

“An old woman with a walker…” she said as she huffed along, getting breathless from the stroll.

“Walker? Why do they call it that anyway? You’re the one doing all the walking.”

She chuckled.

Iris watched them walk out of earshot, disappearing into the distance.  She sipped her iced tea, smirking at how gentle and thoughtful he was with the elderly woman.  Ten minutes later, she saw him jogging down the street, smiling that gorgeous smile of his.  When he reached the restaurant, he hopped the railing again and returned to his seat, kissing Iris before he sat down.

“You’re an unusual character, Preston.”

“What do you mean?”

“You help little old ladies, you open doors for women, you speak to everybody you see. Most people don’t even acknowledge each other anymore.  And here you are — with me — and you still managed to do a kind act for someone else.”

He winked at her.

Her phone rang.  She hated being on the phone, especially when she was in the company of others. It seemed rude. But the caller ID read: Nadine Thompson.

“Will you excuse me for a moment? I have to take this call. It’s important.”

Preston nodded and got up from the table to give her some privacy.

“Hi Iris. This is Nadine.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I’m calling to invite you to watch the fireworks with us. We’re taking the boat out tonight with a few friends.”

“Hold on. Just a sec…”

She walked to where Preston stood and tapped his shoulder.

“Wanna go watch the fireworks tonight? With me? On a boat?”

He smiled that dazzling smile of his. “Absolutely.”

She held her finger up and backed away.

“Nadine?”

“Have you decided?”

“May I bring a friend?”

“Of course. Meet us at the harbor…”

Iris typed the info into the note app on her phone then confirmed she’d be there with friend in tow.

Preston and Iris boarded the large yacht where several couples were already onboard drinking, laughing, dancing, and eating hors d’oeuvres. A well-dressed blonde woman, Nadine, gave them a tour of the
NADINE
— the boat. Her husband had originally named the boat Prudence, but Nadine demanded that he change it.

“This is my son, Jet, and his girlfriend, Iliana,” Nadine introduced.  They each shook hands.

“I’m Iris and this is Preston.”

Nadine walked them to the end where her husband, James, was sitting, sipping a drink and talking to another couple.

“Honey,” Nadine said, tapping James on the shoulder. “I want you to meet Iris and Preston.”

James saw Iris and immediately stood and smiled, his eyes roving her body.

“Hello, Iris. Nice dress,” he said as the lightweight, nearly-sheer fabric of her dress clung to her body from the moist air.

Preston stepped in front of Iris and extended his hand to James, “Hi, James. I’m Preston. She’s with me,” he said.

James smirked and said, “Can I get you a drink, Preston?”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he said, straight-faced and wide-chested.

***

Situated in the perfect position to view the fireworks, the boat rocked with the waves, floating up and down, side to side in sort of a rhythmic dance.  Iris had gotten woozy but she didn’t want anybody to know.  Sitting in front of Preston, between his legs, she leaned her head against his chest.  He wrapped his arms around her and, every now and then, he’d play with her curls.

The night was dark, lovely and peaceful.  The crescent moon sat high, reflecting off of the lake. Other boats had also dropped anchor, but far enough away to still feel a sense of privacy. Each couple had staked a spot on the boat’s platform watching the fireworks show.

It had been quite a while since Iris felt at peace in the arms of a man — until Preston came along. Preston had a gentle spirit, a compassionate kindness. And she liked it. His touch was warm like hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. It was sweet like marshmallows between two graham crackers dipped in chocolate.  It was as provocative as his yearning lips pressed against hers. She circled her finger in the palm of his hand as she listened to the others laugh and chat about things that were familiar only to themselves.  She and Preston just sat quietly, smiling at appropriate times, laughing when necessary.

The chill from the lake washed over her and a wave of goose bumps coursed over her skin. Preston caressed her arms, rubbing them up and down, creating heat through the friction. Occasionally, she’d feel the tips of his fingers brush against her nipples, teasing them as they hardened under the night chill. She softly rubbed his thighs, feeling his powerful quads underneath the denim Levi’s. His hands roamed from her arms, across her chest and up to her neck where he lifted her chin slightly, enough for her to tilt her head back. He kissed her cheek, slowly moving closer to her lips.  Their position was awkward and Iris wanted to turn around so that she could get at those plump pink lips full on. But she didn’t. She just leaned back and enjoyed his touch. A little too much.

***

After the boat docked, Iris promised Nadine they’d meet for lunch. They said their goodbyes then Iris and Preston strolled along the lakefront until they reached the pathway to cross Lake Shore Drive, arriving back at Buckingham Fountain.  Cutting through Grant Park, Preston walked with Iris to her brother’s building.

“Coffee?” Iris asked.

Preston shook his head.  “Another time, Wildflower.”

She was crushed and it showed on her face.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Preston said.

She shook her head, “You didn’t. I – I just…”
Sigh
.  “I just enjoy your company so much that I hate when you leave.”

“Me, too.  But I have an early morning and I’m afraid if I come up for
coffee
, I won’t get any rest tonight.”

“We don’t have to do anything, just cuddle. How about that?” she offered.

He smiled. “How could I say no to that?”