Wildflower
Page 8
But, he had said ‘please’ twice in the same sentence. Very unusual. She sat erect in the chair with her hands folded on the table. She didn’t want him to feel comfortable.
18
What was taking her so long?
Preston unwrapped the towel from his body and tossed in on the tousled bed covers. He slipped on his boxer briefs, which fit him snuggly. He didn’t bother with a shirt and he allowed his dreadlocks to flow freely. He’d usually tie them back but Iris loved his dreadlocks, especially when they were loose.
As he approached the kitchen, he heard voices. One male, the other clearly Iris’. Then he heard something familiar. That voice. That tone. The familiar voice said, “I want us to have a second chance.”
It was his brother, Peter.
What was he doing here?
He peeked around the corner quietly, trying not to be seen or heard. He saw his brother, who he hadn’t seen in the better part of fifteen years, holding hands with the woman he wanted to call his own. It was crazy. He never believed in love at first sight. But now, especially seeing her holding hands with Peter, he realized how deep his feelings really were.
He leaned against the entrance wall near the refrigerator where he could hear them clearly but couldn’t be seen. He listened to Peter plead with Iris.
***
Peter wanted to kiss her. There was something sweet and innocent about the way she looked when she was lost in her own thoughts. Her hair had tumbled forward into her face. She didn’t bother moving it.
He got up and sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Kissing her neck, he felt the wetness on her skin and noticed tears streaming down her face, her bottom lip quivering.
He turned her chair so that she was facing him and wiped the tears with his thumbs, gently kissing her lips. She turned away, not allowing his kiss to be much more than a passing impression.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
She shook her head, got up and walked around him.
“Nothing.”
She put a mug under the spout of the Keurig, then selected a K-cup flavor, shoving it into the receptacle to brew. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close.
“You rarely cry, so don’t tell me it’s nothing. What’s wrong?”
She shook her head again. “Nothing.” It was an obvious lie.
Iris felt old feelings resurfacing. She knew she shouldn’t have sat down when he pleaded with her to listen to him. But Peter was the kind of man that wielded a person to yes — no matter what — which might’ve been why he was so successful in business.
This morning was no different. She was flustered and conflicted. She remembered how beautiful their marriage had been until the last few years, but on the other hand, she couldn’t erase what she’d seen — him and Sara living on Lazy Lane, expecting a baby.
“I love you, Pea,” she said. “I’ve always loved you. That may never change.”
“I love you, too,” he offered, though it sounded weak. His words gave her no comfort.
“No, you misunderstood me. I love you — always will — but I don’t like you. Not one iota, Pea. You asked me to throw away everything I’d worked for, everything I had in this world. You were the single most important thing in my life and you forced me to let you go because you thought you didn’t love me anymore? Now you’re saying you want me back?”
“I received some bad news and was trying to work some things out in my head. But you kept pressuring me and I couldn’t handle it. That’s all.”
“What kind of news was so bad that my simple questions pushed you to the brink of divorce?” She suspected she already knew the answer — Sara. He’d probably learned that she was pregnant. The timing was just about right for that to have been what happened.
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Once again, frustration washed over her. She toyed with telling him she already knew about Sara and the pregnancy and the house on Lazy Lane.
“I invested in you. I worked two jobs to get you through grad school. You have an MBA because I supported you. You own a successful business because I sacrificed everything for you…”
Peter interrupted her. “Now hold on there, sweetheart. I did the hard work. I’m the one who went to school. I earned the degree. I secured the income that allowed you to leave the workforce. I found the investors and startup money for my business. I did the work. I turned a fledgling business into a multi-million dollar entity. You didn’t do anything. Nothing, except complain about what I hadn’t done for you. It got old, sweetheart.”
This irritated her even more. “See, that’s what I’m talking about — you don’t get it. You promised me a family, kids, that you’d support my career goals. You said once you finished school, then you’d support me. I believed you. I trusted you.”
He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Here we go again. You’re like a looping reel. Look, I did what I said I would do, Iris. I provided for you. You lived in a mansion. You drove a luxury car. You had your hair and nails done every week. You shopped in the finest stores. You had the best of everything my money could buy. Yet, you still complained that I hadn’t done enough. Now look where you are. You have nothing.”
“Oh, I have something, Pea. I have my freedom. And that’s what you didn’t understand. It’s was not about things, Pea. It was always about us. What happened to us?”
“I just couldn’t seem to please you, Iris. No matter what I did. That’s what happened to us.”
Iris sighed.
“I don’t get it, Pea. You threw away our entire marriage — all ten years of it, plus the three we spent dating. I’d spent my entire adult life with you. Then, without explanation, you tell me goodbye? How am I supposed to trust you with my heart again?”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. But I hurt myself, too. My life has been empty without you. I can’t breathe without you.”
Her mind flashed back to him and Sara on the front porch of the house on Lazy Lane, to Sara driving the car he’d taken from her in the divorce, to Sara rubbing her pregnant belly — a pregnancy Iris wasn’t afforded, to Peter informing her that he’d drained the bank accounts and sold the house — leaving her homeless. The heat from her resentment reddened her face. She trembled with fiery anger.
He went on, “Did you hear me, Iris? I can’t breathe without you.”
“Well, Pea… sweetheart… it looks like you’re going to suffocate then.” She stood. “I don’t trust you with my heart.” She looked at her watch and realized how long she’d left Preston waiting in the bedroom. “I just realized that I don’t need you anymore, Pea. From this moment forward, if there’s anything you need to say to me, have your attorney call mine. Oh, and by the way, I have a new attorney. Sara will no longer be representing my interests. You need to leave, Peter. Don’t call me again. Don’t drop by again. Don’t even think about me. Erase me as if I never existed.”
“But, I…”
“You heard her,” the voice came from the kitchen entrance.
Peter stood. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m her man…”
Peter looked at Iris who stood, biting her thumbnail, eyes wide, watching the two of them.
“You don’t recognize me, Pea? You don’t recognize your own brother, Pea?”
“My brother? The only brother I have…” He paused and stepped closer, squinting then widening his eyes upon recognition. “Baby?”
Preston nodded.
“You’re not my brother,” Peter shouted, then looked at Iris. “How long has this been going on, Iris?”
“Still denying me, Peter? Denying that I’m your brother doesn’t change the fact that I am,” Preston said.
“What the hell are you doing here… with my wife?”
“Your wife?” Preston asked, more like a statement of incredulity as he looked at Iris who seemed bewildered.
Iris’ jaw had dropped open. She did a double-take and before she could say a word, Peter
responded.
“Yeah, she’s my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Iris corrected, looking at Preston apologetically.
“I thought you were gallivanting around Europe. When did you get here?”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t.”
“You never could distinguish a diamond from a cubic zirconia — throwing away priceless gems for the imitations.”
“What are you talking about, Baby?”
“I’m with Iris, now.”
“I wonder, Baby. Does she really know who you are… Preston?”
“I know enough, Pea,” Iris said.
“That’s doubtful,” Peter said, sucking his teeth and shaking his head in disgust. He put Idris’ duplicate keys on the counter and eyeballed Preston as he walked by. “You’ll always have my leftovers, Baby… Preston… or whatever you’re calling yourself these days.”
“Pea, you’d better duck because I’m two seconds from throwing this mug of hot coffee at you. Get out of my brother’s apartment.”
Peter seemed on the verge of saying more but he retreated, something he wasn’t accustomed to doing. He eyeballed Preston again as he walked by.
Preston’s nostrils flared, his chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were nearly white.
Iris leaned against the table with her hand, bracing herself from the emotional exchange. She watched Peter storm out of the kitchen.
She heard the front door slam and rushed into the living room. Gone. Peter had left. Preston stood behind her fuming.
“Are you still in love with him?” Preston asked.
“You knew all this time that I was married to Peter?”
Preston shook his head. “No. But I overheard the conversation. Every single word — in particular, when you told Pea that you loved him and always would. But no, I had no idea you are my brother’s wife.”
“Ex-wife,” she reiterated.
“When we met, you said you had a man. Were you referring to Peter?”
She shook her head. “No. We’re divorced. We’ve been divorced for six months – seven months now. I told you that.”
“Yeah, but you failed to mention that your ex-husband was my brother.”
“How could I have possibly known he was your brother, Preston? How? You’ve been estranged from your family the entire time I’ve known Peter. You don’t have the same last name. Peter has never ever mentioned you. I mean, he talked about his sister, Amanda, incessantly. But he never mentioned you.”
He sat down on the sofa. His eyes were saddened. “I changed my name and distanced myself from my family,” he muttered but she didn’t hear him clearly because she was asking him a question at the same time.
“Why, Preston? Why didn’t Peter ever mention you? Why was he denying you as his brother?”
“That’s something you’d have to ask him. I need to know where I stand with you, Iris,” he said sharply.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Where do I stand with you?”
“First of all, Preston, we’ve known each other less than two months. I don’t know where you stand. You haven’t had enough time to establish a standing with me. Secondly, you’re acting as if I invited Peter here. I didn’t.”
“I saw your eyes, Iris… the way you looked at him.”
She didn’t respond. She just stood there with her arms folded across her chest. Seething.
“I’ve made a fool of myself and I’ve certainly overstayed my welcome. You told me you had a man, but I didn’t listen. I should have. I’ll get out of your way.”
“Wait, Preston.”
He kept walking until he opened the door.
“I’m sorry,” Preston said solemnly.
“But… Wait.”
He walked out and closed the door.
19
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.”
“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.
20
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’.