Ripple Effect

by Jerald, Tracey

  “Let her go? I don’t have to. You tagged her to be recruited as well. Remember, one of your colleagues is training her” is all he says before he hangs up the phone.

  Huh. I forgot we don’t have a no-fraternization policy. But now I’ll have to do some deeper digging on Ms. Iris Cunningham when I get back to my apartment to make certain recruiting them both isn’t going to be a colossal mistake. In the meanwhile, I approach the same flower vendor Libby just vacated. “Hello. I need a bouquet of flowers for a birthday.”

  “Seems to be the specialty of the day.” The woman smiles. “Do you know what kind of flowers?”

  “Something unique but lovely.” The woman nods before turning away. Soon, she presents me with a bouquet that Sam will be proud to give Iris. I’m pulling out my card to pay when suddenly I ask, “Can you also make me up a bouquet of sunflowers?”

  I must be crazy. That’s the only way to explain it.

  “Of course. Give me just one more moment.” Soon, I have a gorgeous bunch of sunflowers in my arms. A smile spreads across the woman’s face as she runs my card through. “They’re such a happy flower.”

  “Hmm?” I’m too busy looking at the bright cheerful flowers in my arms. In their own way, it’s like holding a piece of Libby.

  “Sunflowers. They symbolize adoration, loyalty, and longevity, but overall they just make people happy,” I’m informed.

  A little stunned, I scrawl my name on the receipt and pocket the card. “That they do.” But my mind is on Libby, not the flowers. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  4

  Elizabeth

  Fifteen Years Ago from Present Day

  “You’re the best friend ever, Libby Akin.” Iris throws herself into my arms after reading my card.

  I hug her back fiercely. “Love you.”

  “Love you more.” She wipes her eyes. “Now, are you going to tell me who you’ve been cooking for all day?”

  Standing, I shake my head no. “Do you want me to put your flowers in a vase?”

  “Yes. Just tell me this: do I need to change?”

  I give Iris a once-over. She’s wearing a backless T-shirt and ripped jeans. Without betraying who’s coming over for dinner, I shrug. “You look hot.” And she does. Iris has black curly hair and dancing hazel eyes. Her beauty is only eclipsed by her natural ability to speak languages, something she picked up from her native-speaking Lakota grandmother and Irish grandfather. To date, she speaks five fluently and is determined to conquer Mandarin.

  One of the many reasons I wish Sam would stop looking at the computers that have captured his devotion his whole life and broaden his horizons to see what’s waiting right in front of him is because I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with as big of a brain as his until I met my roommate. Then I let it go. If they’re meant to be, they’re meant to be. I was only mildly surprised when Sam and Cal came to sit with us at the bar last night. If Sam’s interested, tonight’s dinner will be a dead giveaway.

  And just as I reach the kitchen, the doorbell rings. “That must be our surprise guest,” I tease Iris.

  “You’re such a brat,” she accuses from her place on the couch.

  “You’ve lived with me for four years and you’re just getting that idea?” I glide to the door to open it—and receive the shock of my life. Because it’s not just Sam there holding flowers, which fills me with joy.

  Cal’s with him. I swallow my jealousy when I see he’s holding a bouquet of flowers as well. “Come on in, gentlemen. I hope you both like shrimp and grits.” I accept Sam’s kiss on the cheek.

  Even as he makes his way over toward a stunned Iris, Sam calls out, “Nonna’s recipe?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Is there any other way?”

  He lets out a whoop that causes a bubble of laughter to escape. But a sigh of pleasure escapes when Sam leans down, brushes his lips across Iris’s cheek, and lays the flowers in her arms. She flushes before her eyes drop. I watch her lips form the words “Thank you” before she crushes the flowers between them, giving him a hug.

  Cal steps up behind me. Without turning around, I swallow my ridiculous jealousy and say, “It’s a good thing you brought her more flowers.” Facing him, I force the smile on my lips to reach my eyes. “I have a feeling she doesn’t realize the ones she just got from Sam are getting crushed.”

  I step to the side so I can check on the food in the kitchen when Cal’s arm hooks around my waist, reeling me back to stand in front of him. I tip my head back. “If you don’t let me go, dinner’s going to burn,” I tease gently.

  He cocks his head to the side before murmuring, “These are for you, Libby. Thank you. Sam invited me to crash dinner tonight.” He lays a bouquet of sunflowers in my arms. The beauty of the bright yellow flowers almost blinds me. It’s completely unexpected.

  “For me? But…I don’t understand. It’s not my birthday,” I stammer.

  “They reminded me of you. Now”—Cal changes the subject—“what can I do to help?”

  I open and close my mouth several times before getting my head together. “Come on into the kitchen while I put these away. I’ll give you the wine to open.”

  “Hopefully it’s not that same crap you were drinking last night,” Cal mutters.

  “It’s Iris’s birthday. I sprang for a decent bottle,” I reassure him.

  “Thank God.”

  What can I do but laugh?

  * * *

  Hours later, we’ve devoured the meal, the wine, and Iris’s birthday cake. Sadly, our oven doesn’t lend itself well to baking or I’d have made that as well. Sam and Iris are talking out on our minuscule porch while I finish clearing the table. “Please let that work,” I whisper.

  “Let what work?” Startled, I jump when Cal appears in the kitchen.

  Laying a soapy, wet hand on my shirt, I gasp, “You scared me. I thought you were still in the bathroom.”

  He ignores me and advances. “Let what work?” he asks again.

  Instead of giving him the verbal answer he wants, I nod toward the porch where Sam and Iris can just be made out. “They’re perfect for each other. Both of them are so brilliant in different ways.”

  “So he’s mentioned.”

  Turning to face the sink, I ask casually, “In all this time, do you realize neither Sam nor you ever fully explained how you became friends?”

  “I was his professor last semester. It’s not lost on you, your cousin’s a brilliant guy. Taught me a thing or two,” Cal says ruefully.

  I grin because that sounds like Sam. “At least tell me he chose to educate you in private.”

  “If you have a towel, I’ll dry,” he offers, leaning a hip next to where I’m washing the dishes.

  I shake my head. “You’re a guest. Nonna would have me horsewhipped.”

  Cal gets close and whispers, “Your nonna’s not here, and I’m not going to tell.”

  I lean forward until our foreheads are almost touching. “No, but Sam is, and he’s often a tattletale to look better in her eyes. It never works though.”

  “Because you’re a good girl?” His voice is lazy and seductive.

  I don’t know what’s pounding more, my heart or the throbbing between my legs at the teasing. “I’ll never tell. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

  A tension-filled silence descends between us. I’ve washed and set aside a few plates before I hear Cal say, “I’d like to.”

  I must have misheard him. “Excuse me?”

  He reaches over and turns off the water. “I’ve wanted to get to know you better for a long time.”

  I turn the water back on and reach for a new dish. “Interesting way of showing it.”

  He takes the plate out of my hand and turns the water off again. “I’m being serious.”

  I turn the water on again. “So am I, Cal. I refuse to be a conquest in your bed. I’m worth more than that.”

  This time when he turns off the water, he turns me to f
ace him. “I’ve never given flowers to a woman. I’ve never wanted to. I never looked at them and saw the essence of her in them. But when I was at the farmer’s market this morning and saw you standing above them, they seemed to be reaching for you.” He tucks a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

  My breathing increases. “Why now?”

  “Because I’ve lain awake for too many nights wondering what it would be like.”

  My head drops to the side. Cal leans in and whispers against my ear, “Take a chance before we run out of time.”

  Damn him. “All right. When?” If I’m doing this, I’m locking him into a date.

  “Is tomorrow too soon?” My head flies back up, and my head almost collides with his. Everything I ever secretly longed for is on his face.

  Including a smile.

  “I told you I didn’t want to wait,” he murmurs just as his head lowers. But before he can kiss me, the slider opens as a happy-sounding Iris comes inside in front of Sam, who’s grinning. Cal’s forehead drops against mine. “Do you really like Sam, or can I just kill him? Because his timing sucks.”

  The mild annoyance combined with frustration in his words makes me laugh. “He is my favorite cousin. I might get upset if something happens to him.”

  “Fine,” he grumbles. Kissing my forehead, he steps out of the kitchen. “Say six tomorrow?”

  Leaving my spot at the sink, I enter the doorway between the two rooms. “I look forward to it, Cal.”

  “Me too. Sam, you ready?”

  Sam groans. “Yeah.” He grins at Iris, whose face just melts in pleasure. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Absolutely,” she agrees.

  Well, well, well, I think smugly.

  Cal’s arm slides around my waist and squeezes. I tip my head back and smile. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Libby,” Sam chimes in before he ducks out the door.

  With a quick squeeze, Cal follows him.

  After the door closes, Iris and I give it to the count of ten before we both shriek, “I have a date!”

  Then we shout, “You have a date?”

  That’s when we jump into each other’s arms and hug the hell out of each other.

  5

  Elizabeth

  Fifteen Years Ago from Present Day

  “I’m not sure if I agreed to go out on this date because Cal gave me sunflowers or because he smiled at me,” I say to Iris.

  “Calhoun Sullivan doesn’t smile, Libs,” she scoffs. “Despite your verbal confirmation of it.”

  “It’s happened more than once.” I stroke the petals of the blooms now sitting in a variety of bud vases we’d collected over the years in our off-campus rental. “It was…”

  “What?” She leans her elbows on the island dividing us.

  “Disarming. He comes off as this tough broody guy, completely not my type.”

  Iris snorts. “Not everyone is straight out of a fairy tale.”

  My fingers are flirting with the edges of the flower. “I didn’t say they had to be. What I meant was I like someone who will talk with me. On the other hand, Cal doesn’t strike me as the type to lay it all out there over a couple of beers. I mean, really, personal choice aside, is a first date the right time to announce you just got pierced?” I’m still bewildered by the conversation gambit of the blind date I went on last weekend.

  Iris’s laughter rings out. “You mean like…”

  I nod furiously. “Oh, yes. Matt said something about too much grain in the punch at the Delta Sig party, and the next thing he knew, he woke up with a ladder.” Over the screeching sounds being made, I try to retain my composure. “My question to him was, ‘Are you drinking it now? Is this why you’re telling me?’”

  We’re both past the point of no return laughing when there’s a knock at our door. I’m still giggling as I cross the room toward it. “I mean, is this what I should expect when I go out tonight with…Cal.” I breathe his name when I open the door.

  “No, Libs, I don’t think this is what you have to…umph!” I jam my elbow into Iris’s stomach. “Oh, hey, Cal.” She gives him a weak wave.

  “Iris.” Is it wrong that I love how he acknowledges my gorgeous best friend with only a nod all while his eyes never leave my face? “Hey, Libby. Busy?”

  “We were just…” I step back to let him inside but find myself backing into my best friend.

  “Doing absolutely nothing. In fact, we were doing so much nothing, I was thinking about studying for that poli-sci test you said we’re going to have, Cal.”

  His dark eyes flick over to her for just a moment. “You mean the one you took Friday?” He arches a brow.

  I want to smack my face into the palm of my hand at Iris’s obvious behavior. I limit myself to just a small sigh that can either be interpreted as “You’re a moron,” “I can’t believe he’s here early!” or maybe, “What are you still doing here?”

  Then again, it could be all three.

  Iris quickly extracts herself from her mistake. “I think I bombed it. I’m going to hit the books again. Libs, call if you need me.”

  “Oh, I’ll be sure to,” I let all the love, humor, and irony fill my voice as she quickly escapes leaving me standing in the open doorway with Calhoun Sullivan. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Sure.” Cal seems to take up not just space but air as he comes into our living room. I have to keep telling myself he’s just another guy when something is constantly pulling me toward him.

  “I thought we said six?”

  “You don’t have a vase?”

  “You came by to visit your flowers? I know they’re not touching anymore, but they live close by. Think of them as graduating from high school sunflowers to college sunflowers; you have to let them live alone sometime,” I sass.

  Before I started talking, the darkly brooding look was back on his face, making me wonder if he wasn’t getting ready to change his mind on our date. By the time I’m done, he’s right in front of me. He tips my chin up just a bit before giving me that heart-stopping smile for the second time in one day. “What am I going to do with you, Libby?”

  I look at him thoughtfully before answering, “Worry about laugh lines like the rest of us. If you keep losing that Zoolander look you have going on, you’re going to get them.”

  Suddenly, I’m wrapped in Cal’s arms as he barks out a rusty laugh. I snuggle in for just a moment because laughter is more special when you can feel it against someone.

  “See? That wasn’t so painful,” I tease.

  His twists in agony for just a moment. “This isn’t the right time in my life for me to meet a girl like you,” he flat out tells me.

  “First, I’m a woman, not a girl. And second, what kind of woman is that?”

  “The kind that touches my heart. The kind that makes me want to stay.”

  “What makes you have to go?” I wonder aloud. “We all have weeks before we have to leave.”

  He shakes his head, not answering me. Reaching up, he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. Leaning down, he whispers his lips across my cheek, barely a caress. It’s still enough to send me in a haze. His skin smells warm from being out in the quarter earlier mixed with the citrusy scent of his cologne and something else.

  “We were talking about sunflowers,” I whisper.

  “I’ll never be able to look at them again without thinking of this moment.”

  Pulling back, I close my eyes for just a moment. Opening them, I say flatly, “I appreciate your courtesy in coming by, but really all you had to do was call if you didn’t want to go out on our date.”

  “The problem, sweet Libby, is I very much do. I just can’t.” He doesn’t offer me any further explanation.

  I don’t see fit to give him any when I pull out of his arms to walk to the door, holding it open for him. “Thank you for coming by, Cal.”

  He walks straight to the door, only hesitating when he’s aligned with me. “Libby, I’m a professor. I’m years ol
der than you.” As if those words are magically going to explain why I’m going to spend the night with a box of Kleenex and a tub of ice cream instead of him.

  Instead I acknowledge, “I’m well aware of that.”

  He tries for patience. “I was in the military; I’m still part of the National Guard, and I got called up on assignment. I got the notice this morning after I went out for a run. I have seventy-two hours to report in.”

  His words cause a different kind of agony inside my chest because he’s trying to take the time to reassure me asking me out was important to him.

  “Was this important to you?” I wonder aloud.

  And a moment later, the door is being wrenched away from my hand as Cal pulls me into his body. “It would be so much easier if it wasn’t.”

  Our mouths are mere millimeters from each other as he bows his head. But I know if our lips touch now, there’s no way he’ll leave without branding me more than he already has.

  I reach out and stroke his chest. “Keep in touch.”

  He hesitates a second before he steps back with a smile. “You email me. I’ll write back when I can.”

  “Is that a promise?” I tease him. “Because maybe by the time you get back to Charleston, I’ll need some new sunflowers.”

  He drags his fingers down my cheek. “I will. I promise. And I don’t make them easily.”

  My eyes are unblinking on his. “You don’t?”

  “No, damnit, I don’t.” I don’t move, afraid if I do, I’ll break whatever spell is holding him bound to me instead of to whatever is trying to pull him away.

  For long moments we’re frozen, until Cal finally rasps, “God, my life? It’s always about shitty timing,” before he walks through the door, closing it softly behind him.

  Leaning my head forward to rest on it, I whisper, “Yes, until the unexpected happens and someone brings you flowers. Then it’s a matter of waiting until you get more.”