by C L Bauer
It was time for him to embrace the obvious. He missed her. He missed her humor, conversation, her endless post-it notes and lists and he missed those eyes.
Lily’s eyes held her world in them. They had been convincing today, leading him to believe she’d always be there on the boulevard in her little shop, arranging flowers and fulfilling dreams come true.
Funny, he’d never heard any of her plans for a day of her own, almost as though she weren’t worthy of a “day of her life”.
He took a sip of red wine and licked it from his lips. The television was on and he faced it but he wasn’t watching. Still thinking of Lily, he took a larger drink.
What would she look like as a bride? What would her gown look like? He’d only seen her in a dress a couple of times. She was very professional at the funeral.
But what would she do with that hair? She’d have to get married in the winter to have any chance of keeping it in place. The veil would cover it. Undoubtedly she wouldn’t be wearing heels.
There was a photo in the shop that proved she’d had a life with heels, makeup and longer hair. Lily stood in the middle of several friends, drinks in hands, wearing a black turtleneck, fitted jeans and hair that swept away from her face hitting at her shoulders. She was thinner, wearing black boots with heels. Her smile as wide as her face had drawn his attention to the wall where the photo hung by her desk. Her face shined.
Now she was basic Lily. Had she put that other girl in a box and shoved her into storage forever? Would he have liked that girl as much as he liked this one?
He downed the remaining wine and stood up. It was time to go to bed. He needed to be into work early in the morning. As he began the steps to his bedroom he was thinking about her again. He was seeing those lips.
He cussed out loud. He hadn’t even kissed her.
Over a week later, Dev had started his run as the sun was coming up. Even though it was a Saturday morning, he couldn’t sleep in, frankly he hadn’t slept. Last night he’d spent a quiet, restless evening reading the newest spy novel until he decided around midnight to turn off the lights. He laid there listening to the wind blow through one of the few trees on his block. Around three he walked downstairs to get a drink of water and to look outside. He grabbed the book and went back to bed, this time the reading finally putting him to sleep. He’d forgotten to shut off his alarm and woke at five. He gave up in his attempt at slumber a half hour later.
Usually, Alexandria would be waking up but this was the weekend. You saw mostly runners, a few walkers and bikers and those neighbors standing like the walking dead as their dog sniffed around for just the right place to relieve itself. The coffee shop was open. He stopped, grabbed a newspaper and a coffee. By the time he left, the world was coming alive and he felt like a run down the parkway.
Serious runners and those just looking good used the parkway that wound near the Potomac River and finally dumped into the Memorial Bridge area. When Dev had briefly served at the Pentagon he’d become used to the breathtaking scenery of the Jefferson, Lincoln and Washington Memorials not to mention the Kennedy Center and Georgetown all along the path.
As he came back through the older area of Alexandria he saw an area florist loading the van for the day. The huge sprays were all white with greenery, roses and those ever-popular hydrangeas. At least now he knew what they were. Dev looked at his watch. Lily was probably loading her own van right now.
He thought about her quite a bit when it was quiet. He laughed out loud every time he clicked on the television and found Jessica Fletcher solving another murder mystery. What a nosy writer! That woman had the gall to insert herself into cases over and over. She always figured it out. She was always impeccably dressed and not one hair was ever mussed.
He missed seeing Lily’s hair curl up as the humidity rose. He missed their conversations, the laughter, her questions and uncertainty… he missed her. His aunt called him a coward and maybe he was. He definitely was running away from something.
He pulled up less than half of a block away from his home. His father’s car was parked outside. He bent over placing his hands on his legs. His breath was visible on the air and it seemed to be turning colder. Thanksgiving was next week.
“Damn.” His father was here to have the mandatory turkey family day talk or as he preferred to call it talking turkey, his father’s own interpretation of a holiday inquisition. You going to be in town this year? Do you think you can make it this time? We missed you last year and the year before, so are you coming this time?
Dev raised up sighing. So many holidays had passed. He wasn’t sure he knew how to sit around a table and share a meal, enjoying the company of genetic relatives. He’d sat at other tables over the years in Iraq and Afghanistan, at his turkey, steak and lobster, visiting briefly with his brothers in arms and even a president once. He was finishing his pumpkin pie when George W. Bush entered the hall for a surprise visit. Dev was picking up his plate when the President came next to him, bringing his own tray.
“If you can, sit back down.” Dev made time.
Family was different for some reason. Oh, he knew the reason. Death had taken the heart of their family. He put on a smile and entered his own house with caution.
“Hey Dad,” he yelled as he came through the front door. He could hear him in the kitchen making coffee.
“In here.” Dev was already standing at the edge of the kitchen. “Boy, you look tired.”
Dev came beside him to wait for the warm liquid. “Long run this morning. You need milk?”
“No, I’m good. I brought something unhealthy.” He opened the white box next to him to offer doughnuts.
Dev brought out a couple of plates and loaded three onto his before offering the plate to his father. “This will do me.”
“Well, you did run. I can’t do that anymore at my age.”
Dev shrugged. “Oh believe me, I can’t either. Age is catching up with me.”
They sat down in the living room, his father across from him in the leather chair. The doughnut eating offered silence but he could feel his father watching him. The questioning was about to commence but the doughnuts were too good to escape.
His father eyed him closely as Dev took a drink of coffee. He might as well get it started so it could end.
“What?”
“You didn’t get back with that socialite, did you?”
Dev hadn’t expected that beginning volley.
“What? No, not her.” His dad saw something.
“Not her? Hmmm, someone else?”
Silence was the better part of valor besides, what was there to say? He enjoyed working on weddings? That he’d found his creative side?
“I don’t know.” He really didn’t, did he?
“Where’d you meet her?”
Dev relaxed a little. His father never seemed this interested in his personal life so he’d play along for a bit. He smiled. “On an investigation out of town.”
“She’s not in jail, is she?”
Dev laughed out loud. “No, Dad.”
“Oh thank God.” His voice expressed relief. “When do we all meet her?” Dev took a final drink, placing his cup on the coffee table.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what I want to do about her.” “What does she want to do?”
Dev was stymied. There was so much between them—mileage, professions, silence and unrequited feelings.
“Dad, I, she, we,” he was stammering. “I have no idea. We haven’t talked about being a couple. We have a good time but we’re friends.”
His father shook his head. Here was his highly accomplished son who didn’t have a clue about life and living stammering like a fearful child.
“Dev, sometimes I think that by the time you figure out what you want it might be too late. For someone who goes full tilt into danger, killing all those dragons around the world, you sure don’t take any chances with your heart. Don’t end up alone, please.”
The last word hurt Dev.
His father was alone now but at least he’d had a family and a life with a wonderful woman.
“Is there something wrong with the woman? Is she a little off or of a different culture? Do you hate her values? What?”
“No, nothing like that, Dad, she’s just not the type of woman, well Aunt Pat said I was being a snob.”
Jack Pierce laughed out loud.
“She’s probably right but I’d say you’re a jackass. Not your type? I just knew I was going to marry Cheryl Ladd or Lynda Carter. One was blonde, the other a brunette and neither knew I was alive. I ended up with your mother and her curly light red hair that made her look like little orphan Annie when she was caught out in the rain. Remember how frizzy her hair got in the humidity?”
“Yes.” Dev was thinking of someone else’s hair and becoming very uncomfortable in the process.
“And your mother was so short. I was always getting stuff for her out of the high cabinets. She was so slim and then she had you kids and she never was again. Remember, I was going to live with Charlie’s Angel or Wonder Woman but I ended up with your mom. I never regretted that my plan was changed by her plan.” He could see his son was thinking, hopefully listening.
“I’m sure your aunt was better suited to give you advice but maybe you need to give yourself a break, maybe let this woman show you who she is and who you two could be together.”
His father stared into his coffee cup. “You know I haven’t told anyone this but there’s times in the house that I hear her in the morning, making breakfast and humming that song…”I Could Of Danced All Night”. There’s nothing more disappointing than walking into an empty kitchen. I miss her every day, Dev.”
They both shared a moment of silence.
“Dev, can you two sit in a room in complete silence knowing each other is there with no need to talk?”
Dev nodded affirmatively. “Can you laugh together?” He nodded again.
“It’s easy to walk away when you don’t care but it’s so hard when you do. I see you feel for her, but you’re not shallow, son, you just might be in love.”
His dad stood up, grabbed both of their cups and took them to the kitchen, returning with his jacket in his hand.
“I’ve said more today than I have in years so I’m shutting up now, except are you coming for Thanksgiving?”
Dev looked up. The question had finally been asked. “If I’m in town.” His dad patted him on the back on his way out. “Good enough.”
Dev sat silently in his car. He was continuing to stare at the front door of his parents’ home. But it wasn’t his parents’ home any longer. It was his Dad’s house. It was the place where he had lived as a kid. With Mom not there it just wasn’t the same structure, nor was their family but Dad was trying. He was trying too. This would be his first Thanksgiving at home in years. After Mom died the family time diminished significantly for all of them, not just in his absence but maybe that had something to do with it.
He sighed out loud. He wasn’t beyond saying that he helped to separate a very close family.
He was sure that they worried about him constantly, even now. His Dad would remark “you know you can get hurt even in the Reserves and with the DEA” and he would admit to him there was always that possibility. Heck, he’d almost crashed three times on I-95 just this morning.
Driving was dangerous, flying was dangerous, walking and running on the street was dangerous and Dev knew that you didn’t have to be a soldier to have something happen to you one day, to never return home that afternoon from work.
He looked down at his phone and opened the contact list. He hit Lily’s name and stopped before the call went through. He texted instead. He didn’t want to interrupt her holiday, one of the very few she actually celebrated with a day off. If she had a wedding tomorrow she’d probably start working sometime tonight.
“Lily, just thinking about you and hoping you’re taking some time off today. Enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Short, direct, meaningless but that’s not what he was feeling. He’d been lying to himself for a couple of months now and his Dad’s words the other day brought the truth to the surface. He was frightened of Lily Schmidt and how she could single-handedly dissect his heart, insert feelings, close it up and send him on his way to recuperate alone. His fear broadened when he thought about a life with her; the fear grew when he thought of a life without her.
Maybe she didn’t care about him? He’d pushed her away so many times along the way claiming his job was in the way. Finally, she shut the door on him. Obviously he’d given her mixed signals, heck he didn’t know what he was doing. She had too. He saw the looks she gave him, could feel the heat when they touched.
She was nothing he wanted but she was all he wanted.
“Crap,” he said loudly. He grabbed the bread from the passenger seat and finally got out of his car. It was the easiest contribution he could make to the dinner.
He walked slowly up the sidewalk and stood at the front door. His hand was on the doorknob when his phone buzzed. His Dad opened the door at the same time and stared at him blankly.
“I’ll take the bread, you answer the phone.”
“Damn.” He looked up at his father and held out the phone as though it was the object of his very own destruction.
“Dad, the text, I’m so sorry. I’ve got to go. I’ve just been called in.” His father’s eyelids shut as if he were in prayer. He nodded. “Devlin, come in and say hello.”
“Dad, I’ve got thirty minutes to get there.” “I understand. Stop debating, come in, wave and leave. I’ll explain to everyone. Please.”
And that’s exactly what he did. He was running back down the sidewalk to his car in less than five minutes.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lily was processing the red roses that had just arrived when Abby entered for the day. “Hey boss, what needs to go?”
Lily pointed to the four arrangements on the back counter. “Here’s the order sheet and make sure the cards are attached. You can deliver now.”
“Didn’t we do the daughter’s wedding last year?” Abby studied the name on one of the cards.
Lily nodded. “Yes. Remember, her dad had a heart attack two days before the wedding and was in the hospital the day of? That was so sad. He was looking forward to his only daughter’s wedding day. Well, he lasted another year.”
“Oh and by the way, Jeremy and I can take those deliveries Saturday, no problem.”
“Oh good. I can have a weekend with my sister then.” Lily’s sister usually didn’t come into town by herself but she was participating as godmother for one of her best friend’s children. “Beth and I are going to celebrate my birthday with a spa session on Saturday. She has the baptism on Sunday and has to be at the airport by three. We’ll have just enough time to enjoy without getting sick of each other.”
“And then she’s back to Virginia? Near some agent?” Abby giggled. When she saw Lily’s glare she didn’t continue. You did not poke the boss. Besides, she knew Lily was struggling with the few emails and texts from him now and then and the occasional voice messages on the shop’s phone. He always hoped she was doing well.
About the time Abby began to pick up the first arrangement for delivery, the shop’s door opened.
“Hi there.” It was a delivery man from Prescott’s Bouquets carrying an enormous bouquet of white hydrangeas. “Do you all believe this is a flower delivery for a florist?”
“Who’s it for?” Abby went to the front to grab the flowers. What was Jeremy, her perfect little idiot thinking, sending her flowers?
“The card says Lily Schmidt. You all have a nice day.” He handed the full bouquet over into Abby’s hands.
“Oh boss, you have a gift for your birthday.”
Lily finished her work with the bucket of water and the roses and wiped her hand on a towel. What had her sister done? She looked into the shop and saw the large arrangement. Really, Elizabeth? Flowers?
“There’s a car
d.”
“Fine. I’m coming.” If Beth wasted money on these she would wonder where her head was these days and that wouldn’t predict an enjoyable weekend as planned.
“December birthdays are junk,” Lily admitted as she grabbed the flowers. They were exquisite and they must have cost a fortune from Prescott’s. That shop always did the high priced charity events and most of the Kansas City society functions.
She placed them on the counter and read the card. “Lily Schmidt, Happy Birthday.”
“So? Did Elizabeth send them?” Abby couldn’t stand the anticipation as she watched Lily pull the insert card out. Lily said nothing, just staring at the card for a few minutes.
“Beth didn’t send them. Agent Pierce did.”
“Shut the door!” Abby clapped in delight. “He remembered your birthday and that you’ve never received flowers on your birthday. Of course, he could’ve just pulled a file and found your day.” That statement prompted another glare. “What did he write on the card? Come on, you have to share.”
Lily smiled at her assistant. “Yes, I suppose I do just to keep you quiet. I mean, these are beautiful. He wrote…you deserve the best so I’m sending you my mother’s favorite flowers. Happy birthday. I miss you more than you know. Dev…”
“He misses you, and remember when he lied about his mom’s favorite flowers when he didn’t have a clue what a hydrangea was? What a crack up. And this is the first time you’re getting flowers, and from him?”
Lily nodded. She’d never told anyone that except him. He’d remembered her secret. When she’d told him the information had just slipped carelessly in conversation but he had made it important, and now he had solved the injustice.
“It’s a good birthday this year. I’m good.” Lily decided if she kept reciting those positive statements they might become her reality.
