Bouquet Toss

by Melissa Brown

  Popping the pills in my mouth, I wash them down with the cold water. Placing the cup on the nightstand, I gasp. Mayson is planting small kisses on my shoulder, breathing deeply and caressing my lower back with his hands.

  “Mayson,” I say, almost as if I’m asking a question. But, then again, maybe I am.

  “Yes, Daphne?” He replies between kisses.

  “What are we doing?” Never one to go with the flow, I had to know what on earth he was doing here, stroking my skin, nipping my freckles and being altogether way too charming for my own good.

  “Didn’t you have a good time last night, Puddin’? You seemed to….” He’s still kissing me as he asks. Murmuring into my neck, stroking my hair and caressing his way up to my ears: he knows they are my weakness.

  “Yes, of course. It was incredible. Just trying to get my bearings, that’s all” I respond honestly. He pulls away, sits up straight and looks me in the eye.

  “I want to see you again, if that is alright with you,” he says, reaching out to stroke my hair. He twirls several strands in his fingertips as he gazes at me, his green eyes shining in the morning sun. Mayson seems genuine, sincere and looking for my approval of his feelings toward me. “I need to get back to campus later today, but I can come up this weekend. And then, we can take it from there. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for.” He kisses my hand and smiles warmly.

  “That sounds nice, Mayson.” And it does.

  Chapter 7

  Drinks

  I have waited three very long, very excruciating days to see Mayson again. Finally, Friday afternoon arrives and he will be here shortly. I’ve changed my outfit five times, groaning and rolling my eyes at each wardrobe choice. Nothing seems good enough. My nerves are getting the best of me as I anxiously await my houseguest, lover, possible future boyfriend. As always, I’m worried about the future. I’m worried about the distance between us, worried that this means something different to him than it does to me. I am trying so hard to stop the worries, but they creep up again and again as I attempt to clean my apartment for his arrival.

  Finally, a car door closes in the small parking lot outside my window. My heart leaps into my throat and I glance at the clock. It’s 7:00pm and he is right on time. I hear him climbing my wooden staircase that leads to the back door. Waiting for him to knock (not wanting to seem too eager), I inhale deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves.

  I twist the knob and open the door with a smile. Mayson has an enormous grin on his face and a large bouquet of stargazer lilies in his hand. He knows they are my favorite flowers.

  “Wow, you remembered,” I marvel softly.

  “Yep,” he smiles, obviously proud of himself, “It was years ago that you mentioned you loved these. I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.” He’s obviously looking for validation.

  “They’re perfect, Mayson.” I say dreamily, almost in a trance. What is he doing to me?

  After a few hours of polite conversation and innocent flirting, we head down to a local bar for dinner and drinks with Morgan and Matt. Morgan has taken it upon herself to assess our current situation to see if she approves of Mayson’s intentions towards me. She and I went to different Universities, so she has never met him, even though I have told her so much over the years. With Morgan’s determination to keep me safe and happy, this should be an interesting evening.

  “So, you’re an architect, yes?” Morgan asks before sipping her Long Island Iced Tea, our favorite drink.

  “Yes, I am. I love it. Very fulfilling work for me,” Mayson replies confidently. If Morgan had planned on making him squirm tonight, it doesn’t seem likely to happen. He rubs his hand on my thigh as he elaborates on his career. The nerve endings in my leg spring to life against his fingers; it’s exhilarating. I glance at the clock, hoping that soon the evening will come to an end with my cousin and her boyfriend. I am aching for Mayson’s touch, and not just on my thigh.

  “Speaking of fulfilling careers, Daphne is such a fantastic teacher. Her students love her. Has she told you about any of them?”

  “Um…her students?” Mayson asks, taken aback. Morgan nods assertively, raising a lone eyebrow. “Uh, no, I don’t think they have come up in conversation yet.”

  “Ah,” Morgan says, nodding to herself. The subject needs to be changed as tension starts to creep into the space between my cousin and my date.

  “Morgan, let’s get another round. Everyone’s drinks are getting low.” I say, standing up and giving her a look that warns her not to protest.

  We walk to the bar, arm in arm. “Okay, Morgan, what was that all about back there? Why are you giving him such an attitude?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Daphne! Of course I’m giving him attitude. You sulked over him for years, and I mean, years. He broke your heart. And if you’re not going to be protective of your own heart, then I have to be!”

  “He means a lot to me, Morgan. If you don’t give him a chance…”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t come around eventually, Daphne. But, he has to give me a reason to like him. You are too wrapped up in him to think clearly. Obviously, I have to do your thinking for you!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, Morgan. I know that I should be apprehensive,” I say defensively.

  “But, are you being apprehensive? You look all starry eyed to me. He reached over to touch your leg and you practically swooned!” I look at her in shock. She saw that? “Yeah, I noticed, Daphne. Look, just be careful, please.”

  When we return to the table, Mayson and Matt are engaged in polite conversation. Clearly, my buddy Matt is attempting to repair the damage his girlfriend may have created. I always knew he was on my side. Morgan slides in next to Matt who wraps his arms around her. Feeling a bit uneasy, I sit down next to Mayson, waiting for some sort of indication that everything is ok. He kisses me gently on the lips and whispers into my ear.

  “You were gone so long. I missed you.”

  Resisting the urge to tease him about how my little trip to the bar is nothing compared to a four-hour flight to Denver, I hold back. In this moment, I realize how terrified I am to scare this man away. Whether by Morgan’s grilling, my teasing or anything else that might come about, I am sick with worry that things will come to an end before I even get a real chance with Mayson. Quickly I finish my drink to escape the anxiety.

  The rest of the evening is more relaxed, aided mostly by the increase of alcohol in our systems. Morgan pulls me on the dance floor and Mayson is happy to watch me as I sing and dance, swiveling my hips to the music. I feel so alive and nothing can spoil it. I gesture for Mayson to join me and he shakes his head and mouths the word “no” with a large smile on his masculine lips. My mouth forms a dramatic pout but I continue dancing with Morgan.

  Two more songs come and go as Morgan and I continue to laugh, twist, shake and act like complete fools on the dance floor. I glance back at the table and see that Mayson is on his phone, no longer watching us. He seems upset, perhaps due to how loud the bar has become. He walks away from the table to complete his call. Wondering who is on the other end of the line, my thoughts get cloudy and turn dark. The thought of him talking to another woman makes me sick to my stomach.

  “What’s wrong, Daphne?” Morgan yells above the music, “Do you need to sit down?”

  “No, I’m fine. I think I’m just getting tired.”

  Moments later, I feel an arm wrap around my waist, his woodsy scent invading my senses as he nuzzles into my neck.

  “Hey, beautiful girl,” Mayson whispers into my ear. Morgan takes this as her cue to leave us alone on the dance floor.

  “So, you’ve decided to dance?” I ask as seductively as possible.

  “Well, you know I’m not really a dancer, but I couldn’t resist how sexy you looked. I had to get out here before someone else beat me to it.” He brushes my bangs away from my eyes. “I’m not so good at sharing.” He adds.

  “Me neither,” I reply, staring into his eyes. He glances away briefly and
then holds my gaze for what feels like minutes. Cupping my chin in his hands, he kisses me passionately.

  “Let’s go home, Puddin’”

  “Daphne, wake up.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I peer at the clock on my nightstand. 5:45 a.m.? Ugh! Why is Mayson awake and fully dressed in my bedroom?

  “I have to get back to campus. There’s a problem with the plans. They need me back as soon as possible.” His tone is a bit dismissive. My heart sinks.

  “Really? I thought you might stay the weekend.” I’m surprised that he didn’t mention anything earlier. Perhaps this was the phone call he received last night. I guess that would explain the look of aggravation on his face.

  “I know. I’d hoped to do that. It’s just not possible, Daphne. I’m sorry. I have a few more days on campus and then I’m headed back to Denver. I wanted to talk with you more about that while we were together this weekend. I really wish that I could stay here with you.” He gazes into my eyes, his tone now sincere and less apprehensive.

  “No, I understand. Your project is important. I know it comes first.” I reply doing my very best not to seem too disappointed. This is reminding me so much of our differences back in school; Mayson putting architecture first, and me pushing back against his priorities. I was determined to be different this time. After all, this was his career and I had to respect that.

  Mayson kisses me goodbye, and just like that, he is gone again, and I’m left wondering what the hell is going on with us. Is Mayson worth the anxiety in my chest, the worries on my brain, the aching in my heart? Time will tell.

  I’m tempted to call Elise on her cell phone, but I’d never forgive myself for disturbing her on her honeymoon. I’ll just have to wait for her to return as her guidance means so much. For now, sleep calls me once again. Rolling over in my bed, doing my best to block any thought of Mayson from my heart or my head, I slowly fall into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Kim

  “You don’t seriously believe this is going to tell us anything, do you Morgan?”

  “Who knows? My friend Cheryl swears by this woman. She goes to see her every year and she always gets the best advice. And so many of her predictions have actually come true.”

  “Sounds like self fulfilling prophecy to me.” My cynicism is so transparent.

  “Well, you’ve been so torn up about what is going on with Mayson. Seriously, this has been going on for years, Daphne. Wouldn’t it be good to get a clue as to who you will actually end up with?”

  “Yes, Morgan, but that’s assuming this psychic knows anything. She could be pulling things out of her ass for all we know.”

  “Since when did you become such a cynic? You were always the one who read your horoscope and trusted in Astrology. Hell, you even bought tarot cards in college. I remember you giving ‘readings’ at your parents’ house. You used to use your U of I blanket every time! Now, all of a sudden you don’t believe in this stuff?”

  “Oh my goodness, I completely forgot about the tarot cards.” I laugh, “But, that was just for fun. This is different. You believe this woman is actually going to help me figure out my love life.”

  “Listen, it’s my treat. I have some questions I want to ask anyway about Matt and about my job. I’m not sure I should be staying there much longer. If you feel inclined, we can ask about you. And, if not, you’ll be my wing woman.”

  “Fine, fine,” I agree half-heartedly. “I’ll go. But, only because you are always there for me.”

  We arrive at the psychic’s home and I’m pleasantly surprised to see that she resides in an incredibly classy (and expensive looking) Victorian estate in upscale Naperville.

  “Well, this is quite different from the shacks we’ve seen along the highway with the signs for Palm Reading.” I say, slightly impressed.

  “Yeah, maybe she wins the lottery every year to support herself,” Morgan giggles as she parks the car in the large driveway. “She doesn’t go by a cheesy name like Madame Ruby, either. Her name is Kim, just Kim. Please, be on your best behavior, okay?”

  “Of course, I’ll behave myself. Now that I’ve seen where she lives, I’m feeling a lot better about this. Let’s go in. I may even ask about Mayson.”

  Kim is a lovely woman in her late forties. She has gorgeous black hair, pinned up into a bun on the top of her head, her bangs sweeping across the olive skin of her forehead. She is stunning.

  “Welcome, ladies,” Kim greets us as we enter her large foyer. “And which one of you lovely young women is Morgan?”

  “That’s me,” Morgan extends her hand to shake with Kim. Kim shakes Morgan’s hand briefly with one hand, covering it with the other. She holds Morgan’s hand for a moment, just long enough for Morgan to look to me, shrug her shoulders and grin. Kim releases Morgan’s hands and looks to me.

  “So you must be Daphne. I had a feeling when you walked through the door that you would be the one with man trouble.” Hmmm, a psychic who ‘sensed’ something after the answer was already given to her? Wow, how impressive. Before I can even finish my sarcastic thought, Kim gives me a knowing smile,

  “Darling, it has nothing to do with my abilities and everything to do with your pained expression. Miss Morgan here looks like she is content, at peace. You on the other hand look uncomfortable and anxious. Come, ladies, let’s go to my sitting room and get better acquainted.”

  Blushing with embarrassment, I follow Morgan and Kim into the sitting room. Morgan takes my hand and whispers, “Just have a little faith, Daphne. You may even get some much needed answers tonight.” I nod in submission.

  Kim gestures for us to sit in two lovely armchairs, each draped with silken blankets. She sits on a small chaise lounge and again responds to my body language. Clearly I wear my heart on my sleeve. It is difficult for me to disguise my surprise at the atmosphere.

  “Were you expecting a crystal ball?” Kim smiles warmly.

  “Well, I don’t know...maybe?” I respond, again discomfited by the psychic before me who is incredibly astute at reading other’s emotions. Or maybe she’s just seen it all.

  “So, Morgan mentioned that you have some questions about a relationship you have started. Rest assured, I asked Morgan not to tell me any more than that. It can, many times, cloud my abilities if I know too much about a situation. It’s always better for me to simply use my senses.”

  “Yes, well, maybe you could start with Morgan. I’m not really sure if I want to know anything or not.” Morgan rolls her eyes at me. Apparently, she was hoping I would just go with the flow. She should know me better than that.

  “Well, that is fine with me. So, let’s see, Morgan. I can tell from your contented nature that you are currently in a healthy relationship. This is actually your first healthy dating relationship in quite some time. You have had a bit of a rough road with men. One in particular, I see was incredibly tall with several freckles on his nose—“

  Morgan gasps and clutches her hand to her mouth. Kim is referring to Morgan’s ex-boyfriend Brett. They dated in college and he treated her terribly; insulting her intelligence constantly especially in front of those she cared about. Morgan broke up with him about eight months into their relationship when she discovered he had cheated with three different members of her sorority. She was devastated and subsequently unable to trust the opposite sex for quite some time.

  Kim’s description was eerie. Brett was obscenely tall, about 6’5, towering over Morgan at only 5’2. He had a large cluster of freckles situated on his nose only, no freckles anywhere else on his body. Even though I haven’t showed my surprise as obviously as Morgan, I am blown away. Perhaps I would let Kim talk to me after all.

  “Shall I continue?” Kim asks, not at all alarmed by Morgan’s response, but testing the comfort level in the room regardless.

  “Yes, please,” Morgan replies, inching closer to the chaise lounge.

  “Alright then,” Kim continues, “The man you are with is an incredibly motivated and driven pers
on. He also cares for you immensely and dreams of a future with you. There will be a time when you doubt his motives, but rest assured he has your best interest at heart. He’s good for you and his love is unwavering.”

  Morgan’s eyes are wet as she smiles at Kim. This is what she was hoping to hear. She and Matt have been happy for a long time, but with her track record, I know she’s afraid of what the future may bring and no amount of reassurance from me or others close to her will change that. Perhaps the predictions this evening will finally be what she needs in order to look towards a future with Matt.

  “That’s wonderful, Kim. Can you tell me anything about my career?”

  “Hmm,” Kim begins, “I don’t see you continuing with your current company for longer than a few years. After all, you’ll be pretty busy with other things.”

  “What kind of other things?” Morgan asks, confused.

  “Are you sure you would like to know the specifics?”

  “Yes,” Morgan responds with confidence.

  “I see you with your hands full, at home. I see you with babies.”

  “Did you say babies, as in more than one?” Morgan looks panicked.

  “That is what I see. But, don’t worry. You have several years yet before worrying about that.” Kim flashes a knowing smile at Morgan.

  “Just continue to live your life. Use your current work situation for what it is: excellent experience that you will come back to when the time is right. But, no, I do not see you there for longer than five years.”

  “Wow,” Morgan looks bewildered, overwhelmed and a bit stunned. Kim smiles and looks to me.

  “So, Daphne, have you decided whether or not you would like to talk with me?”

  “Yes, I would like to know whatever you can tell me.”

  “Alright,” Kim says. “You are a bit harder to read than Morgan. Do you have a timepiece or any other personal item that I may hold in my hand? This helps me to connect a bit with you. It doesn’t always work, but it has helped me previously in cases such as this.”