Upon a Wishing Flower

by Amy DeMeritt

  When I open my eyes again, I’m confused and disoriented. I sit up and look around me. Nothing looks familiar. It takes my mind a moment to remember I’m in Hannah’s apartment. A stabbing pain shoots through my skull and behind my eyes. I grab my head and wince in pain.

  “You’re finally awake. Are you ok?”

  Hannah comes over and sits down next to me. She wraps an arm around my shoulders and grabs my hands to pull them off of my temples.

  “Brooke? What’s wrong?”

  “My head is screaming.” She brushes the hair out of my face and then stands up. “Lay back down. I’ll get you some water and ibuprofen.”

  I obey and the pain slightly subsides. When she comes back, Hannah perches on the edge of the sofa next to my stomach.

  “Sit up and take these. Try to drink the full glass.”

  “Thank you. How long have I been out?” She looks at her watch and smiles. “Four hours.” My jaw drops. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. I completely ruined your whole Saturday.”

  “Don’t be silly. You didn’t ruin anything.”

  “My champagne induced narcolepsy held you as a hostage in your own apartment for four hours. I’m sure I ruined some plans you had for your day off.” Hannah laughs and reaches up to fix my tousled hair. “Actually, having you sleeping on my couch forced me to stay in and get some stuff done I needed to do around here. I actually got a lot done while you were sleeping off your mimosas.”

  I get a sharp twinge in my head again and wince. Hannah takes my glass and gently guides me to lay back down.

  “This is so embarrassing.”

  “Are you always so critical of yourself? This really is no big deal, Brooke. I enjoy seeing this side of you, actually.” I look at her like she’s crazy. “What? Weak and pathetic?” She laughs and shakes her head. “No, not pathetic. I don’t know the word for it. I guess I just like that you need me. ”

  I look at her a moment and feel that familiar nervousness flood my insides like jitter bugs dancing in my belly, fingers, and toes. She’s my client. I really shouldn’t be here, let alone laying on her sofa with her perched over me, looking at me so affectionately. Oh, god, I want to kiss her so badly.

  “I, uh, um, thank you for taking care of me.” She smiles wider and holds the glass of water out to me. “Try to drink some more of this. You need to hydrate so your head will feel better.”

  After I drink a few more sips of water, Hannah asks, “How long do these headaches typically last?”

  “A few hours. You can take me back to my car now if you need to get rid of me.”

  “Nope, I’m enjoying this, remember?”

  My face blushes and she cheeses really big.

  “Hey, you cheated today.” She giggles and leans across my body to rest her elbow against the back of the sofa while remaining next to me. “How is that?”

  “You cashed all your ‘blush bucks’, but you threw down a sack full of surprise poker chips in that massage room.” She laughs hard and places her hand on my side to steady herself. I nearly gasp at the contact. “I wish I could have seen your face.”

  I shake my head and try hard not to smile, but I can’t help myself. Her hand gently squeezes my side and I inhale deeply. Oh, this is such a bad idea. I really should sit up and put some space between us.

  “How is your head feeling? Is it any better?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Good. Now, ask me anything you want to know.”

  “Ok. Do you think we’ll ever be able to live on the moon?” Hannah laughs and rubs her hand up my side some, sending sparks of electricity shooting through my body. “I meant about me, silly. ”

  “Oh, well, in that case, since you know about my starving artist phase, tell me about your favorite hobby.”

  “I like to play the banjo.” I laugh a little, but her small smile doesn’t widen at all, so I’m not sure if she’s serious or not. “The banjo? Like bluegrass?” She just smiles and doesn’t say anything. “Are you messing with me?” Hannah giggles a little and nods. “What if I did? Play the banjo, I mean.”

  “I’d be impressed. I’ve never been able to play any instrument before. I can just look at one and it will shriek out of tune.”

  “I played the flute when I was younger. I haven’t touched it in years though.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “I do.”

  “You should play it for me.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Doesn’t your head hurt enough without me adding to it?”

  “Another day then. Now, Miss. Dodger, what is your real favorite hobby.”

  “Cute.” She puckers her lips in thought and then smiles. “I think I would have to go with pretending I’m an old lady.”

  I laugh so hard that my body lifts off the sofa so I am now sitting up with only a couple inches between our faces. She smiles really big and looks at my lips like she’s going to kiss me. Her hand grips my side more firmly and I suddenly stop laughing. I bite my bottom lip and she tilts her head to look at me with a challenging grin.

  “Do you think my hobby is silly?”

  I laugh and lean back slightly, against the back of the sofa. Hannah is still leaning over my body, and we are only several inches apart. I was safer when I was laying down, but now that I’m sitting, I don’t want to increase the distance between us .

  “Well, explain what you mean by pretending you are an old lady.”

  “I like to sit where you are sitting and do word search puzzles, read paperbacks, and journal while sipping on hot tea.” I smile really big. She’s perfect. “Damn, I must be an old lady too because I love doing those things. Well, except for the journaling. I’ve never been very good at keeping a journal. It always turns more into a list than a narrative. I actually expected you to say something like ‘hang out with friends’ or ‘go dancing’ as your favorite hobby.”

  “And why is that?”

  “You seem very outgoing.”

  “Believe it or not, I was actually a very shy, quiet girl growing up, so I never really got into the ‘going out’ and ‘dancing’ scenes.”

  “Nope, I don’t believe it.”

  “Is it really so hard to believe?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  She smirks and pinches my side, tickling me and making me laugh hard. I bend over in fits, grabbing my side, trying to pull her hand off of me. When she stops, I realize my head is laying on her chest. Oh, she’s so warm and soft.

  “So, why is it so hard to believe?” I slowly lift my head off her chest and shake my head. “You have well exceeded your ‘blush bucks’ for today. You are in the negatives and owe the bank quite a bit of money.”

  She smiles really big and looks at my lips for a moment.

  “I do believe that buying you brunch and then taking care of you all afternoon has earned me a sack full of ‘blush bucks’. Oh, and I have to drive you back to your car at some point, so that’s another couple dozen blushes there.”

  “You are quite the opportunist. If you ever go into business for yourself, you are going to be a force to be reckoned with. ”

  “Glad you see things my way. Now, why can’t you believe that I used to be a shy, quiet girl?”

  I take a deep breath and fall back into a laying position with my arms crossed on my chest and a pout on my face. I exhale in frustration and feel my face tinge a deeper red.

  “You are a brat.” She laughs and smiles broadly. “Fine. Because you are too beautiful to be shy. Beautiful girls are always the popular girls.”

  “You are beautiful. Were you popular?” I shrug a shoulder and feel my face blush even deeper red from hearing her call me beautiful. “I guess.”

  “Well, I went to catholic schools and my father is a protestant pastor, so no, I was not very popular.” I frown and sit up. “Were the kids mean to you?”

  She smiles affectionately and brushes her thumb across my jawbone. Oh, god. What is she doing?

  “Some. Most just ignored me. The teachers and
nuns were the worst. They hated that I wasn’t catholic, but was allowed to attend their schools. My parents wanted me to get the best education and catholic schools just happened to be the only alternative to public school at the time.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s ok. Are you hungry? I’m suddenly starving.”

  “I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, yeah, I’m pretty hungry.”

  She stands up and offers her hands to me to help me up, which I eagerly accept because I really like the feeling of her hands in mine.

  “We’ll scope out my fridge and freezer and if there’s nothing here we want, you can earn some ‘blush bucks’ back and take me out.”

  I smile and feel my face blush a little. She giggles and pulls me along after her to her kitchen .

  I hadn’t taken notice this whole time, but her apartment is beautiful. She has mostly white and black furniture and décor with just a few splashes of color here and there. It’s really nice.

  When we get to her kitchen, she releases my hand and opens the fridge.

  “Ok, so I have some eggs, a carton of orange juice, and lettuce.” She laughs and then opens the freezer. “And we have a frozen pizza, green beans, and some freezer burned ice cream. I forgot I had to go grocery shopping this weekend.”

  “See, I did keep you from something important today. Come on, let’s go out. Pick the most expensive place you can think of.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Oh, no you don’t. You cannot snatch every ‘blush buck’ back so easily. One date, is not going to clear the bank.”

  I blush and rub the back of my neck nervously. I don’t remember there ever being such a beautiful girl or woman that has taken such an immediate liking to me or has been so obvious in her attraction to me from the instant we met. If I wasn’t so hung up on the client relationship, this would be the most amazing week. But I’m so stressed about how to handle this. I feel like I would be a complete idiot to try to prevent things from advancing with Hannah, but I’m also afraid of risking my career.

  “Uh, date? Ok… sure.” She laughs and takes my hand. “Come on.”

  Chapter Four

  I really should be working on chiseling through my swamped email box, but instead, I’m searching through our company code of conduct trying to figure out if I’m at risk of being fired. This damn document is almost two hundred pages long and is written so cryptically with such vague statements that it leaves so much open for interpretation. My ego tells me they would be insane to fire me, no matter what the rules are because I have been the top sales person for over a year, but logic tells me that may not matter to Human Resources.

  Saturday with Hannah was probably the best time I have had in, well, maybe ever. She picked a place for dinner that I’ve never been, but fell in love with the instant we walked in the door. The Hunters Hearth is a surreal experience. When we first walked in the door, my eyes immediately were drawn to a huge stone fireplace with a glowing fire in its belly. It was so beautiful that I literally gasped when I saw it. The whole restaurant reminded me of an old world country home. It was all beautiful stonework, wrought iron fixtures, and beautiful wood. All of the dishes were blue Polish pottery, and the glasses were tall vintage light blue glasses with a cobbled textured.

  Their menu was just as unique as their décor and dinnerware. If you wanted typical American fare, you would not find it on their menu. The menu was comprised of mostly German, Polish, and Russian cuisine with a few French options as well. All of the food was very fresh and very delicious.

  The atmosphere and food was wonderful all on its own, but Hannah’s company was enthralling. We were at the restaurant for over two hours and the conversation was the best I have had in years. In college, I had a couple professors that I could have some really amazing conversations with – I’ve always found it rather difficult to have a good conversation with someone my own age. Younger people tend to have too short of attention spans or interrupt too much. Hannah, however, is an amazing conversationalist – even when she’s teasing the blush out on my cheeks.

  Once we were seated, Hannah became less teasing and more forward with her answers and questions. Occasionally, she would utilize her very effective charm to make me blush, but is was always fitting to the conversation and wasn’t obnoxious – it was delightful.

  After dinner, we walked hand in hand through a nearby park and continued our conversation for another hour. When she dropped me off at my car, she got out of her car and walked me to my driver’s side door. She gave me a hug and looked longingly at my lips, but she didn’t kiss me. She had gently kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “When you can answer to a date request without saying, ‘Uh, date? Ok…sure’, I’m going to kiss you on those beautiful plump lips of yours.” I had squeezed her closer and almost begged for her to kiss me.

  Just as I’m finding the section I need in the code of conduct, someone slaps down a stack of papers on my desk, making me jump. I have an unreasonable desire to hide my screen, as if I was just caught looking at porn or something. I look up and my assistant, Felicia, laughs.

  “What’s with you? Why are you so jumpy?”

  “Nothing. What’s up? ”

  “Stack of contracts that need your review and signature. Your four o’clock rescheduled for tomorrow. There are about a dozen digital ad proofs that need your final approval by 3pm. And you have two new clients that would like to meet with you this week. I need you to let me know what times work best for you. I emailed you details on both.”

  My strict professionalism replaces my nostalgic love-sick mood and I nod in understanding.

  “Ok. I’ll look at the proofs first and get those out of the way in case we need to make changes. I’ll review your new client emails next and then get these contracts back to you.”

  “Ok, do you want me to call the Bamboo Spa and schedule an appointment to get the rest of the pictures you need? You have a couple open slots today and Wednesday, but nothing for tomorrow.”

  “No, I’ll call. Can you touch base with English Ivy Gardens though? Their contract is up in a week and I haven’t received their renewed contract back yet.”

  She smiles and shakes her head. She taps the stack of papers she had slapped down on my desk.

  “Already taken care of. I got it back this morning. Gloria sent her regards and said she has put an envelope in the mail for you with a few free annual passes to the gardens.”

  “That was sweet of her. I’ll give you one when it comes in. I know you love the gardens.”

  “Thank you. Anything else I can do for you? Have you had coffee yet?”

  “Actually, I haven’t. Are you walking over now?” She nods, so I grab my wallet out of my desk drawer and stand up. I quickly lock my computer and lock my desk. “Ok, let’s go.”

  Felicia is my assistant, but she is also my best friend. When she first started, she was so eager to do all of the stereotypical assistant duties to try to prove she is helpful. But getting me coffee is one task I would not allow her to perform. It felt too beneath her. She is an excellent assistant, and very skilled and knowledgeable with many different computer programs. Walking across the street to the Java Hut Café together every morning that I’m actually in the office has become a tradition of ours.

  As we’re walking outside, Felicia asks, “So, why couldn’t that other massage therapist switch positions so you could get all of the pictures in one day?”

  I can’t tell her the truth, so I quickly make something up.

  “She didn’t feel comfortable with it. I don’t blame her. I mean, in one picture you can see her face, and then in the next, you’d be able to see her full bare back. It wouldn’t be hard to put the two together and know it was the same woman.”

  “Ah, ok. Well, I guess that makes sense. Weird she would be so modest and shy when she looks at half naked bodies all day. You going to make an appointment?” I look at her like she’s crazy and she laughs. “Isn’t it your philosophy to try the services and produ
cts of as many of your customers as possible so you can better appreciate what they do? You can’t get over your weird bubble phobia to maintain your own philosophy?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so. You are more than welcome to make an appointment though. My treat.”

  “That’s sweet, but I already have a girl I go to. She’s Swedish, mean as a rabid Pitbull, and really knows how to abuse the hell out of my body to force the knots out of me.”

  “You are so masochistic.”

  “You know it.” She smiles and laughs really hard. “Sex must be stressful for you with that weird bubble thing you have going on.”

  “That came out of left field, but no, not really. I guess, once I reach a certain level of attraction and comfort with someone, the bubble dissipates. ”

  “That’s good because otherwise you would make your partner very self-conscious. You’re already an intimidating partner without adding that stress.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean. You are hot, successful, and you have this ‘boss’ attitude about you that just adds to your hotness.”

  “Are you trying to suck up for a good review or something?”

  Felicia is straight, but is never shy in gushing on how hot and attractive she finds another woman. I think it’s amusing. She has a major “straight girl” crush on our favorite barista, Belinda. She is a shameless flirt even though she has no intentions of it ever going anywhere. Good thing Belinda has an equally flirty personality, yet, is also straight.

  “Why, is it working? Will I get a big raise if I keep telling you how hot you are?” I laugh hard and shake my head. “You know damn well I don’t determine whether or not you get a raise.”

  “No, but your review holds a lot of weight in the decision.”

  “Have I ever said anything bad about you?” She laughs and playfully bumps into me, getting me off balance. “No. Actually, your reviews are so fucking poetic and affectionate that they give me a major lady boner.”

  I laugh so hard I have to stop before we walk through the door of the café.