Wildflower

by Kimbrough, Michele

  “Preston. I’m not sure I can do this.”

  Preston dropped to his knees and rested his hands on her thighs.

  “All my life, I’ve been fighting an internal war between being told who I am and knowing who I am,” Preston said.

  “Now you’re asking me to accept something that goes against who I am,” Iris replied.

  “No. That’s not what I’m doing. I’m simply asking you not to throw away what we have. I’m the same Preston that you met six weeks ago.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “Who did you think I was?”

  “A man.”

  “But baby, Iama man. I’ve proven that to you over and over again.”

  “I can’t un-know what I know. I now know that you are my ex-husband’s sister who had a sex change operation.”

  He shook his head violently, “No, you’re looking at this the wrong way. I have never been Peter’s sister. I have never been female. I have always been male. I was a male in a female body. I changed my body, not who I am.”

  “I feel betrayed by you, Preston. I feel…” She paused trying to find the right word. “I feel violated. I — I just can’t do this.”

  “But I love you, Iris.”

  Silence.

  “It’s over, Preston.”

  His hands dropped to his sides.

  She continued, “As a matter of fact, I will file an annulment on Monday. I want you to leave me alone. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t email me. No snail mail. Nothing.”

  It was as if an elephant stood on his chest. He could hardly breathe. The more she said, the sharper the pain, the more constricted his chest became.

  Their eyes locked during the ensuing silence.

  “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll leave you alone. I won’t bother you.”

  Without another word, Iris got up and walked away, leaving Preston in her wake. He was crushed to the point of hyperventilation. He broke into a cold sweat. The room spun and his vision blurred. Then a thud. He blacked out.

  34

  Horror. Terror. Harsh and perhaps extravagant words describing her overall fear. The fear that she could be in love with a man who was someone else completely.

  Growing up with her mom and stepdad, Iris knew that inextricably associating horror with solitude and darkness was a gigantic mistake. She knew horrible things could happen under a spotlight in front of an audience of onlookers. The shock of learning who Preston really was — learning his past that had been long hidden and buried — was emotionally jarring. It was a terror from which she’d not easily recuperate.

  It was a moral dilemma, but it was also a matter of the heart. Even Peter, with his despicable behavior, hadn’t placed her in such a precarious position.

  Now she wished she didn’t know the truth. If Preston’s secret hadn’t been revealed, she would never have known. She would never have suspected. She’d be sitting in her living room snuggling with her husband right now had she not learned the truth. There hadn’t been any question about his gender… his masculinity. There wasn’t a feminine bone in his body. Sometimes it was better that the past remained where it belonged… in the past.

  There were times when Iris wondered how he could be so sensitive to her needs and desires. He was so attentive and warm, gentle and nurturing. Maybe Jess was right. Maybe this would be the best of both worlds.

  Iris wasn’t religious, yet she struggled with the morality of it all. She wasn’t a Christian, per se, yet she feared God’s wrath. She wasn’t even someone who prayed, yet she figuratively fell down to her knees in repentance. But why? She hadn’t done anything wrong — except a little fornication. Well, maybe a lot of fornication. But who could resist a man like Preston?

  A man like Preston. Maybe Preston represented the promise of what she had hoped Peter would be. Maybe this thing with Preston — this relationship — was only supposed to be temporary to give her a glimpse into what might have been had she figured out a way to truly fight for her marriage with Peter. Karma. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

  Idris backed the car into his designated parking space, got out, and walked around and opened the door for Jess who sat in the front, then for Iris who was in back. They all entered the building in silence. Once in the apartment, Iris dropped her keys in the key tray, went to her room, and collapsed onto the bed.

  Several times she tried to cry out. But she was exhausted — too exhausted to gather the breath she needed to inhale. She lay there balled up on her bed, wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting to yell. Wanting. Wanting Preston to be who he was just earlier today. Why did he have to complicate things?

  She dug the marijuana cigarette out of her purse and marched into the kitchen to light it. She passed Idris and Jess making out on the sofa. For a moment, as she inhaled the smoke, she watched Idris grope and suck and lick on Jess. Jess seemed to enjoy it. It repulsed Iris — it was her brother, after all. She exhaled then dragged herself into the living room and wedged herself between Jess and Idris. She handed the joint to Jess, who was happy to pull it. She inhaled, held it, then exhaled and passed it to Idris who did the same. The three of them sat together in the living room, enjoying the high until Idris and Jess got back to what they were doing before Iris interrupted. They tolerated her intrusion because she was distraught, but now they were ready for her to go back to her room.

  35

  Peter stood in the doorway wishing he could turn back the hands of time and erase what just happened tonight. He was angry and jealous. Once again, he had allowed his temper to take control, and now he felt bad. He had known Iris would leave Preston if she knew the truth. He understood how Iris’ mind worked. He had orchestrated that entire scene, and now he regretted it.

  Peter leaned against the wall, listening to Pru chat with Richard.

  “I’d love to have an event that doesn’t always result in some sort of scandal. I really would,” Pru sighed.

  “Maybe we should elope,” Richard responded.

  “Maybe.”

  Peter walked to Richard and put his hand on his shoulder. Pru glared at him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my behavior, and I am so sorry I ruined your engagement party,” Peter apologized.

  “It’s alright, Pea.”

  “No, it’s not alright,” Pru interjected. “Do you know how many lives you messed with tonight? Do you know that, for once, I was having an event that I could actually enjoy? Now… now my father is running around trying to negotiate some sort of ‘don’t tell’ contract — or as you know it, hush money — so that I’m not disgraced once again in the media.”

  “Prudence, I didn’t mean to cause you problems.”

  “Then Iris blurts out that my father is having an affair with my mother.”

  “I apologize for Iris, too.”

  Richard consoled Pru and patted Peter on the shoulder, letting him know everything was okay.

  “You need to go apologize to Baby. You may have just ended his marriage, Pea,” Pru chastised.

  “I can’t right now. I will — but not right now.”

  ***

  “I can’t believe you cheated on Iris,” Richard said after Pru walked away angrily.

  “It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it did. But Sara had that whip appeal, Richie. I wanted her.”

  “Is she the reason why you abruptly left Iris without giving any kind of explanation?”

  “Honestly? Yes. When Sara told me she was pregnant, Iris and I weren’t happy. I tried to convince Sara to get an abortion, but she refused. So I started creating problems with Iris so that I’d have a reason to leave. But Iris wouldn’t bite. She always tried to accommodate me – even had us get marital counseling. The only thing I could think to do was treat her so badly that she’d not pay attention to what was really happening.”

  “Why leave your wife, though, Pea? There were a million ways you could’ve handled it without leaving Iris.”

  “Yeah, but at the time, I preferred Sara. Still d
o, really. I love them both. I want them both. But having to choose, it was definitely Sara.”

  “So, when Iris ran into the arms of Baby, why’d you get mad?”

  “Like I said, I didn’t want Baby to have her. If I could have them both, I would,” Peter said.

  “Pea, you have issues,” Richard said half-heartedly.

  “He couldn’t have her, Richie. She was mine.”

  Richard shook his head.

  “Go home to your wife. Call us when the baby is born. Maybe we’ll all fly out there and meet your new family.”

  Pru came back in the room. “Where’s Preston?”

  Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought he left with Mom and Dad.”

  “No, they went to get Richard’s girls,” Pru said.

  “I know Iris left with her brother and your friend,” Peter said.

  “Then where’s Preston?” Pru asked again. “I want to make sure he’s okay. You all treated him so badly tonight.”

  In the distance, they heard one of the housekeepers yell for help. They all ran towards the voice. Arriving at the bathroom, they found Preston passed out on the floor. Peter ran to his aid, checking his pulse, listening for breaths. He was breathing, but he wouldn’t wake up. Pru ran to call 911.

  36

  The entire family was in the waiting room. Peter paced back and forth impatiently, waiting for somebody to come and tell them something. Dad tried to settle him down, but Peter was headstrong, and he needed to walk out his frustrations. He felt responsible for Preston collapsing. It was too much stress. He had never handled stress very well.

  “Did anybody call Iris?” Pru asked.

  Nobody answered.

  “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have pushed him. I shouldn’t have pushed him,” Peter said. He continued pacing the floor, periodically looking at the time on his phone.

  “I’ll call Iris,” Pru announced, though nobody seemed to care whether she was called or not.

  “What happened?” Richard asked when Pru sucked her teeth in disappointment after putting the cell phone to her ear.

  “Went directly to voicemail,” she said.

  “Call Jess. She’s probably with Iris’ brother,” Richard suggested.

  “That’s right.”

  She called, but it just rang until it went to voicemail.

  “I don’t get what’s taking so goddamn long. How long does it take to assess him and come and tell us something?”

  “Calm down, Pea,” Richard said.

  When the doctor finally appeared, Peter pushed by everyone and approached the doctor in an unpleasant manner. He was already an impatient man accustomed to people being at his beck and call. But in Chicago, he had no clout — not like in Houston where most people kowtowed to him.

  “Finally,” Peter shouted. “I need to know what’s going on with my brother. Is he okay? Can we see him? What’s going on? What happened? Why’d he collapse?”

  “Who’s responsible for the patient?” the doctor asked.

  “Don’t you see me standing here talking to you? I am,” Peter said.

  Pru said, “We haven’t been able to reach his wife, but we’re all his family.”

  “We need to reach his wife immediately.”

  “Why? What’s going on? Can’t you tell us? We’re his family? We’re already here,” Peter insisted.

  Dad stepped forward, “I’m his father. What’s going on?”

  The doctor told them that Preston went into acute kidney failure and was experiencing congestive heart failure. He told them Preston needed a kidney transplant and would need dialysis until a donor is found. In Preston’s particular case, dialysis was only a temporary solution and a transplant was an absolute necessity to save his life.

  “Why? Why did this happen,” Peter asked.

  “Not sure. Does anybody know if he’s on any medications?”

  “He probably takes male hormones,” Pru suggested.

  “Why would he need hormones?” the doctor asked.

  Richard responded, “He had gender reassignment surgery eight years ago.”

  “Then that might explain some things,” the doctor said. “When his wife gets here, have me paged.”

  “Doc,” Peter said.

  The doctor turned around and looked at Peter, who had finally calmed down.

  “That’s my brother lying in there. I want to donate my kidney. What do I need to do?”

  “First, we have to get consent from his wife. In the meantime, we can see if you’re a match and a good candidate.”

  ***

  Pru, Richard, and Peter tried like hell to get in touch with Iris to no avail.

  “Just go to her apartment,” Mom said.

  “We don’t know where she lives,” Richard explained.

  “I know they bought a condo at Trump Tower but I’m not sure if they moved in. After this evening’s turn of events, I doubt that she’d be there anyway,” Pru said, remembering how she felt when she was the subject of a scandalous revelation.

  “None of us want to leave to go looking for Iris. Baby needs us,” Peter said.

  “They aren’t going to do anything without Iris’ consent, so we need to get in touch with her… now,” Dad said.

  “I know where her brother lives,” Peter offered.

  “Then let’s start there,” Richard said.

  Richard and Peter went to the car and drove the few minutes to Idris’ condo. Peter got out and rang the buzzer. No answer. He knocked on the glass to get the security guard’s attention. The guard buzzed them in. Peter explained the emergency, and the security guard escorted them to Idris’ condo.

  At the door, the security guard tapped the knocker. They heard movement inside. The security guard called out. When Idris opened the door, his eyes were blood shot, and his robe was barely closed. The scent of sex and marijuana wafted from the apartment.

  “Peter? What are you doing here?”

  “We’re looking for Iris.”

  “It’s an emergency,” Richard added.

  Idris let them in and Jess peeked around the corner to see what was going on. Idris led them to Iris’ room but told them to wait while he made sure she was decent. When he opened her door, she was balled up in her bed asleep. He tapped her feet which startled her.

  “Iris? Iris.”

  “What?”

  “Put on your clothes.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s Preston. Something’s happened to him.”

  37

  Never in a million years had she imagined herself in a situation such as this. Iris reclined in the lounger across from Preston’s hospital bed. She watched the monitors for a while, and then the rise and fall of her husband’s chest as the respirator forced air in and released it. The sounds of the monitors irritated her. It was a constant reminder that Preston’s life relied on all of those machines. And if one should fail, it could have fatal consequences. Relatively assured that the mechanics of the monitors were working as they should, she picked up her book and continued reading to him.

  Little Women had been laying on the window sill in the lobby along with several other books. The handwritten sign read: Feel free to take one or donate one. Her choices were Charlotte’s Web, Persuasion, Dracula, or Little Women. Of the four, she had chosen Charlotte’s Web, but a young mother had just approached the window sill and spotted the classic. Iris wasn’t into Jane Austen and Dracula was out of the question, so she chose Little Women.

  Until yesterday, she hadn’t read Little Women since high school. She flipped the page and read aloud, hoping that her voice was soothing to him. After she finished a chapter, she stretched and yawned. She adjusted Preston’s leg rest, fixed the covers, and nudged the body pillow under his back to reposition him.

  When Iris looked up, she saw Peter standing at the nurse’s station talking to one of the doctors. It looked like the doctor was explaining something to him, and Peter nodded periodically to indicate his understanding.

  “H
ey, beautiful,” Peter said to Iris in a somber tone. He leaned down and kissed her damp forehead. He looked at Preston and walked to the bed, fussing with his covers, “How’d he do today?”

  “Fine. Nothing new so far.” She gathered her magazines and phone, shoved them in her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Your parents went to Preston’s — I mean, our place — to get some rest. They’ll be back first thing in the morning. Richard had a flight, and Prudence is with their girls.”

  Peter nodded. “Thanks for the update.”

  “I’ll be back,” she said. “I need something to eat. Would you like something?”

  Peter shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”

  “You’re welcome to stay with us, Peter. You don’t need to keep paying for a hotel room. You’re family.”

  He held her outreached hand and nodded, “Thank you.”

  ***

  Once Iris was out of sight, Peter pulled the chair close to Preston’s bed. He held Preston’s hand in his.

  “I’m not ready to lose you, Baby.” The words got caught in his throat as he tried to contain his emotions. “Do you want to know why I’ve been so angry at you?”

  The machines alarmed. A nurse rushed into the room, made a few adjustments, and inserted something into one of the IV bags hanging next to the bed. Once she left, he grabbed hold of Preston’s hand again.

  “You were my little sister. We did everything together. I understood that you felt like a freak. I did. But I loved who you were, just the way you were. And, when you decided to change yourself, it hurt. No, it was painful because you didn’t seem to know how perfect you were.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “I’m jealous, too. This is the second woman you’ve stolen from me,” he said jokingly. “Iris is a good woman. I was too stupid to see it at the time.”

  The nurse walked into the room, “They are about to start dialysis on him.”

  Peter said, “Okay. Can I stay in the room?”

  “Once he’s hooked up you can come back in,” the nurse advised.