A Wildflower Summer

by Caroline Flynn

  ‘Night, mama.’ The little girl’s voice was so thick with exhaustion, Jason wondered how long he had been standing there, lost in those charcoal drawings. Obviously a while, since he hadn’t even heard Lily’s footsteps as she padded across the creaky floorboards in the hallway.

  He heard every step as she ushered him out of the room and closed the bedroom door so only a sliver of light filtered out into the hall, then scampered toward the stairs, disappearing downstairs without another word.

  Sifting through her sketchbook had been some kind of line he shouldn’t have crossed, then.

  A cacophony of colorful curse words drowned out his thoughts as he followed in Lily’s wake.

  By the time he reached the bottom step, Lily had already made it out onto the front porch, leaving only the screen door between them so he would know which way she went. It squeaked deafeningly as he pushed on it. Jason wondered how in the world Lily seemed to move so silently throughout the house when everything he seemed to do made so much noise.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to upset you,’ he reasoned, settling into the wicker chair opposite the one she occupied. The sketchbook, now closed, was tossed on the glass-topped table between them. ‘I wasn’t snooping, either. I just saw the book and … those sketches are good, Lily. Really good.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she repeated, staring at the closed book. Her arm lay across the table, and she fumbled with the corner of it, smoothing the edge. ‘I don’t share my designs very well, I guess.’

  Jason blew out a breath. ‘If I was that talented, I’d be shouting about it from the rooftops.’

  ‘You’re famous in a small town,’ she reminded him. ‘You don’t have to shout it. Everyone already knows your talents, and they respect you for it.’

  So, that’s what her hasty retreat was about, then. Not that he had seen the sketches, but that he might not give her or her ability the respect it deserved. ‘I just fix cars, Lily. Judging by that drawing, you create masterpieces.’

  There was a slight narrowing of her eyelids. ‘You’d create masterpieces, too, if you had the time to build your Cruella.’

  The sudden blast of confidence hit him squarely in the chest. ‘Perhaps. Tell me about those.’ He motioned toward the sketchbook. He was genuinely interested, but he also didn’t want to talk about his grandfather’s Panther, currently covered in his garage. Not yet. ‘If you want to, I mean. That’s obviously not something you just idly doodle. It’s a finely honed skill, I’d say. Is that the dream, Lily? The one that keeps you going every day?’

  The corner of her mouth lifted as she stared affectionately at the book. ‘It’s everything,’ she admitted. ‘I was young the first time I saw a fashion show on television, with models sashaying their hips as the overhead lights beamed down on the luxurious outfits they wore. Seeing the way the designers were applauded for their efforts and their creative minds, and the way the audience oohed and ahhed over the clothing, like nothing else mattered, it was something I’ll never forget.’ Her gaze flitted up to meet his briefly, before drifting away again. ‘It wasn’t until my mother got remarried and I went with her to try on wedding dresses at a boutique that I felt satin between my fingers and saw the way silk lace and pearly beads could transform a woman into a princess. I was only eight or nine, but from then on nothing else mattered to me anymore, either.’

  Eyes focused somewhere beyond the porch railing out onto the darkened lawn, Jason wondered if Lily even remembered he was still sitting there with her. If she could even see him beyond the vivid memory she was so lost in. If she realized she had given him more insight into her own life in the past two minutes than in the past week. He recognized the look on her face, so wistful with a sense of contentment—wherever she was, it was exactly where she belonged. It was the same feeling he had amidst the tools and automotive parts and the scent of gear oil.

  ‘So, you’re a wedding dress designer.’ He tested the title on his tongue. ‘That’s your passion.’

  ‘I’m a wannabe wedding dress designer,’ she corrected. ‘Right now, I’m a barista.’

  It pained him to see the way she guarded herself against her own dreams. Like she could protect her heart from breaking if she didn’t attain them. Jason had lived through enough to know that wasn’t possible.

  ‘Have you ever created any of your designs? You know, sewn them and held them in your hands?’ He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

  ‘A few.’

  ‘Then you’re a wedding dress designer,’ he said. ‘Ain’t no wannabe about it.’ After a pause, he added, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any of your masterpieces with you that you can show me? Ones that aren’t on paper, I mean.’

  Lily shook her head. ‘No, everything is—wait. Actually …’

  ‘I’d love to see it.’

  The corners of her mouth curled upward. ‘It’s not what you think.’

  ‘Doesn’t change the fact that I’d love to see whatever you’ve made with your own two hands.’

  Jason remained still and quiet as Lily scrutinized him. She must have deemed his keen interest as genuine because she stood up. ‘Give me a sec.’ His curiosity skyrocketed as she disappeared inside. He heard each muted thud of her feet hitting the stairs as she scrambled upstairs. He was grateful for the moment to compose himself, stamping down his shock that she was really going to share one of her designs with him.

  The bounce in her step as she descended the stairs had him wondering if he wasn’t the only one anticipating the big reveal. The screen door squeaked open, then thwacked closed behind her. Lily stood on the porch, hands behind her back. Her cheeks were flushed and she seemed to be almost vibrating, but Jason didn’t think it was all from nerves.

  ‘It’s not a real wedding dress or anything—’ Lily began.

  ‘There’s no need to play it down, no matter what it is,’ Jason interjected softly. Had her passion been belittled so many times that she had taken to doing it herself before someone else got the chance? She wouldn’t be hearing comments like that from him, no matter what garment was behind her back. ‘I’d love to see what you’ve got, Lily.’

  Taking in a deep breath, Lily let it out slowly as she unclasped her hands and held out the handful of silvery blue fabric.

  In his hands, Jason held the material gingerly, surprised by the softness of the satin and the intricate stitching. It wasn’t long enough to be a dress. As he held it up, he realized his mistake. It was a dress. For a child. And it was familiar. No parent of a little girl would fail to recognize it.

  ‘Holy cow, is this Cinderella’s dress?’ Jason exclaimed.

  Lily laughed immediately. ‘That didn’t take long.’

  ‘I’ve seen that movie more times than I can count,’ he admitted, running his thumb over the gauzy tulle that filled out of the skirt of it. ‘If I didn’t know what it was, there’d be something wrong with me. Lily, this is incredible. A mini reproduction of the ball gown in the movie. To a tee.’

  The pink in her cheeks deepened. ‘Eden wanted to be Cinderella for Halloween last year. You don’t want to know how many times I had to watch the dancing scene in order to get the details right.’ Waving a hand, she dismissed the recollection, but her eyes were alight. She was in her element. ‘It doesn’t really fit Eden now, but she told me she packed it in case she had to go to a ball in our new home. Said she’d trade it with one of the other princesses for one that fits.’

  ‘Okay, she’s officially one of the coolest kids I know,’ he chuckled. ‘Guess she’s right, you never know when you might attend a ball gown trading bazaar in the big city. Got to give the kid credit—she’s prepared.’ His gaze roamed over the embroidered embellishment at the middle of the neckline. No detail had gone unnoticed. ‘It’s beautiful. Really. God, Carlie would go bonkers over something like this.’

  When he looked up, Lily was staring aimlessly at the dress in his hands. She reached out and tentatively zipped up the dress’s zipper, patting the garment affectionately. ‘You
should take it,’ she blurted out. ‘Carlie’s slightly smaller than Eden, I think. I bet it would fit her perfectly.’

  ‘Oh, no, Lily, I can’t take this—’ He held the dress out to her, but Lily pushed it away gently.

  ‘After all the help you’ve given Eden and me? Jason, it’s the first chance I’ve had to give you something in return. I’d love for Carlie to have it. To wear it. It’s a gift, even if it is just a hand-me-down Cinderella dress.’ Her smile said that she meant it.

  He looked down at the satin, bunched and creased in his hands. ‘But that isn’t just what it is. It’s far from just a hand-me-down. It’s a Lily Brentwood original. You’re serious?’

  ‘As a heart attack,’ she replied. ‘I’ve got plans for a new dress for Eden. Truly, Jason, I hope Carlie enjoys it.’

  ‘Thank you for this.’ He took great care to set the dress down across his knees. ‘You know what I would really enjoy? Seeing the rest of the designs in that sketchbook.’

  ‘Why?’ No malice tainted the word, just a sincere curiosity. Lily reclaimed her seat beside him, letting her fingers dig into the edges of the sketchbook.

  ‘I might not wear silk and satin, Lily, but I can guarantee you I understand the value of a pretty dress on a pretty lady. Not wearing it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the art of it.’ He patted the satin dress on his lap. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘If you’re just trying to be funny …’

  Jason held his hands up. ‘Serious as a heart attack,’ he quipped. ‘I really do want to see more of your sketches.’

  Whatever Lily was searching for in the silence that ensued, staring into him as though the answers were written on his heart and not merely his face, she must have found it. With both hands, she held the sketchbook out to him.

  Moving slowly in fear of spooking her, he took the book, his own fingertips brushing hers as he held on and she let go. It was her everything, he knew it. He understood it.

  Three pages in, he shook his head. ‘I take it back. These aren’t just really good.’ He tore his attention from the detailed drawings. ‘They’re phenomenal. Cinderella’s dress was just the beginning for you.’

  It didn’t look like she believed him, but Lily scooched her chair a little closer to his, nonetheless. ‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘They’re not all wedding dresses. Just formal dresses, a mix of luxury and simplicity. A simple luxury, if you will.’

  ‘Sounds like a decent tagline to me.’ Jason pointed to a strapless number with an angled skirt, shaded a deep crimson with gray and white accents along the bottom edge. ‘This one’s cool. I like the angle on the bottom.’

  She chuckled to herself. ‘It’s got an angular hem with a cinched bodice.’ Her finger trailed along the page. ‘The accents would be small and subtle, but the sparkle they would give the dress would be immense. And then there’s this one …’ Lily flipped the page for him, her explanations rolling off her tongue a little more rapidly, her fingertips indicating sweetheart necklines and lace overlays a little more vehemently. Jason didn’t understand every word she said, and for a moment he wondered if maybe she was duping him, making up words and descriptions in order to get him back for pretending to teach her the names of automotive parts.

  But as he cast a glance from the page to the side of her face, he realized the chances were slim that she was making it up on the fly. Because she wasn’t teaching him a damn thing.

  She was spilling over with the freedom of finally not having to keep the excitement these sketches stirred within her a secret.

  When she stopped for a breath while flipping to the next page, Jason took the opportunity to get in a few words of his own. ‘You’ve never shown these to anyone, have you?’

  Lily deflated almost immediately, leaning more heavily on the chair arm. ‘I used to, but after a while, being told time and time again that designing clothes was a pipe dream kind of weighed on my psyche. Until recently, I only kept doing it because I wanted to. Because I needed to.’

  ‘Until recently?’

  She waved a dismissive hand. ‘I submitted a portfolio of my designs to a handful of companies with assistant and internship opportunities available.’

  All the pieces clicked into place. ‘In Chicago,’ Jason finished for her.

  She nodded.

  Until then, it had seemed like Lily was rolling with the punches the best she could, taking things as they were thrown at her. But he saw the way her gaze shifted to stare out into the darkened, starry sky. She had taken her first active steps toward making her dream come true, and the universe had tossed her a curveball by taking advantage of her spontaneity. She was closer than she had been, but still so far.

  ‘Your car picked a fine time to chug out its last breaths.’

  ‘You’re telling me. But thankfully, I picked a fine time to meet you, too.’ It took a second for what she uttered to register, and when Lily realized how it could be construed, she cleared her throat. ‘For my car’s sake, I mean.’

  Jason turned back to the sketchbook and flipped the page, choosing to let her curious choice of words roll off him. ‘Wow, would you look at this dress.’ Anything she had said was suddenly absent from his mind. All that remained was the exquisite detail of the pencil strokes and shading that came together perfectly to form the image on the page. And that’s what it was—perfection. Even to his untrained eye, Jason could see that this dress design was special. ‘Lily, this is the best one I’ve seen in this whole book.’

  She was locked on the drawing the same way he was locked on her. Nothing could mask the way her eyes glazed over as she stared at it, adoringly and lovingly. ‘The A-line scoop-neck dress,’ she sighed. ‘Floor length layers of chiffon, floral lace overlay over a silk bodice, flowing skirt that gathers at a banded waist … that’s my baby, right there.’

  ‘It’s a dress made for a princess,’ Jason whispered, his mouth curling into a soft grin.

  ‘It’s a dress made for me,’ she corrected. ‘That design is mine, for me only. Someday, I’ll get to wear it.’

  ‘You’ve designed your own wedding dress.’ It wasn’t a question. He stared at the sketch with renewed interest, picking up on the model’s faded champagne hair piled high atop her head, the soft curve of her jaw. He realized then that it was Lily’s depiction of herself. ‘This is you.’

  She smiled in return, but it didn’t meet her eyes. ‘I did that when I was thirteen years old. It’s been tweaked and perfected over the years, but the main features have always been the same. Guess I know what I like.’ She touched the page. Wistful, she breathed, ‘Someday.’

  ‘I should have known,’ he admitted softly. ‘I told you it was a dress made for a princess.’

  When her eyes met his this time, she wasn’t merely staring. Her ocean eyes searched his, flitting ever so slightly as though she couldn’t take him in all at once. First his irises, then his dark lashes. Lastly, her gaze drifted downward, to his mouth, and it held there for a heartbeat, just long enough to force Jason to follow suit, wondering suddenly if he would taste the sweetness of Nancy’s sweet tea on her lips.

  ‘It’s my fairytale gown,’ she whispered, entranced. He didn’t think she had meant to say the words out loud.

  ‘Even fairytales can come true.’

  She watched his mouth form each syllable. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d said the words for her sake, or his own. Not until he’d grown silent once more did she raise her head and lock eyes with him again.

  ‘Someday,’ she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Only inches away, still leaning against the arm of her wicker chair, Jason thought he could feel the faint caress of her breath on his cheek. It would take only a fraction of a second to close the gap between them and lose himself in that pretty gaze.

  Or find himself.

  ‘You deserve a fairytale, Lily. I hope you realize that.’

  Above the rush of his pulse in his ears, he thought he heard the hint of a gasp amongst the song of the crickets
and the scent of the potted marigolds. He blinked.

  It was just enough time for Lily to pull away, transforming her expression of surprise into a mask of feigned indifference. And it was feigned, because there was no mask opaque enough to hide the shock in her eyes that she tried in vain to hide.

  ‘Fairytales don’t exist,’ she muttered, standing abruptly.

  At least, that’s what he thought she said. It was hard to tell with her back turned toward him and her head down, brushing off some nonexistent dust from her blue jeans as the sketchbook slapped down onto the porch. ‘I should go inside.’ She turned to him, all trace of the heavy-lidded, pensive look on her face now erased. ‘Thank you, though. For the clothes and toys, and for tonight.’ She hesitated, but added, ‘This was nice.’

  ‘It was.’ He rose to his feet, clutching the dress tightly. So many other things crept into his mind. Things he could add. Things he should say.

  We should do it again sometime.

  I meant every word.

  You don’t see what I see when I look at you.

  But the truth was, Jason wasn’t sure he had really seen Lily until he had sat with her only a breath away, eyes alight with the longing that only finding one’s real, true passion could ignite.

  He saw her now, though. Every fleck of silver in her eyes, and every hope and dream that she hid from the world in fear that they would never understand.

  All he wanted was to remind her that she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to be afraid to reveal her talents and her sparkle to the world. With all those sincere, beautiful things to say as Lily crouched down to retrieve the sketchbook, the only thing that came out when he opened his mouth was, ‘No problem at all. Have a good night, Lily.’

  Chapter 11

  Lily

  Lily wasn’t a fan of things being complicated. She avoided complicated. Heck, she had run from complicated only a week ago, in search of a life that propelled her forward rather than held her back.

  Yet, here she was, smack dab in the middle of what was only growing more and more complicated by the minute.