Iris, in turn, shared her struggles. She was the descendant of an alcoholic mother and grandmother, and picked up the habit herself at the age of twelve. She told Nadine about her mother’s death, the divorce, the drunken car accident where she’d hit a pole, then segued into the heart wrenching saga about Sara and the pregnancy, the house, and the car.
“I’ve been in your shoes, except my husband’s whore wasn’t pregnant. In the end, she got what she deserved.”
“How did you get through it?”
“I sought my own revenge. But most importantly, I had a bedfellow, too. Which reminds me, I know the perfect attorney to help you with your Sara problem. He can modify the settlement agreement if you want, and at the same time, put the screws to your little twit of a friend. Peter? He’ll suffer more passively, unless you want him back. If so, he can work that out, too.”
Iris smiled. Who knew someone so small could be so devious? She watched Nadine write the name and number of an attorney on a fancy note card she pulled from the drawer of her vintage end table.
“His name is Ralph Vanzant. Just tell him I sent you.”
“Thank you, Nadine, but I can’t afford an attorney, which is why I had asked my friend — my so-called friend — to represent me.”
“Among sisters, consider this as my gift to you.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Don’t be a fool. Part of the reason I’ve been sober all of these years is because I learned how to take advantage of every opportunity presented to me. Besides, I like you. You’re what I wasn’t at your age — smart. You have spunk.”
“Okay, I appreciate it.”
She sat with Nadine for another hour swapping stories about their marriages, sacrifices, and the mistresses that had ruined everything. They also talked about their social status. Iris couldn’t believe she had so much in common with someone who was clearly on a different level than she.
After meeting with Nadine, Iris decided to walk along the lakefront, maybe sit at the beach for a while. Before she knew it, she was at Buckingham Fountain. The sun began its descent. The fountain was lit and the water was in full flow. She leaned against a portable partition, staring at the fountain. Thinking.
***
Preston watched her walk by. The scent of her body spray lingered as she passed him. He looked at her, allowing his gaze to race the length of her body. She was dressed in white — all white. Her hair flowed in the breeze. Her skin, sun-kissed.
“I didn’t know Chicago could be so hot,” he said, clearly referring to her good looks.
Her smile was wide. There was something startling about the way she looked at him — sensual, even.
“Before you waste your time, you should know I have a man.” Of course, she didn’t. But that’s what she’d say to any man who came on to her. Usually, the bold ones persisted. She liked the bold ones. They had no fear.
“So.”
“So, I’m not looking for company.”
He walked closer to her, slowly, smiling, with his hand extended. “My name is Preston. What can I call you?”
She thought about it for a moment then said, “You can call me Wildflower.” She laughed.
“Wildflower,” he repeated. “Well, that can’t be your real name. Let me guess, your name must be Daisy.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Lily?”
Still shaking her head, she said, “Uh uh.”
“Come on, my arm is getting tired here. Dandelion?” he chuckled.
She shook his extended hand. “My name is Iris.”
“Iris. Beautiful and befitting. That was my next guess.”
“Sure it was.”
“Iris?”
She looked at him, licking her lips and lifting her hair from her neck, hoping for a cool breeze.
He went on, “Let me buy you a drink.”
“I told you, I have a man.”
“But I’m not interested in him.”
She smiled.
“I’m afraid I won’t be very good company, Preston.”
“Well, how about letting me be the judge of that. Take a stroll with me. It’s a beautiful evening. I’d love to spend it with a beautiful woman.”
Iris let her hair fall against her neck. What would it hurt? Peter had completely abandoned her. The sad part was that she hoped against hope that he’d want to reconcile. But that was over. She was finished pining over him. She was done hoping and waiting.
Trying not to sound too eager she said, “Okay.”
They walked to the beach first, enjoying what was left of the sunny day while sharing stories about their lives and learning about one another. Their conversation was easy. She was laughing — something she hadn’t done in months. Iris learned he had two brothers, loved to rock climb and jog, and dreamed of hiking the Appalachian Trail. Preston learned that she had always wanted a family of her own, she had a twin brother named Idris, and she was a swimmer and jogger.
The further they walked, the more she was drawn to him. This had to be the most extraordinary beach in the world. Of course it wasn’t. Not even close. But, because of him — because of Preston, the way she felt with him — this beach seemed most magnificent. She’d just met him, and yet, she was comfortable talking to him. Too comfortable. And his eyes — they unnerved her. The way he looked at her gave her chills — good chills.
“I’m assuming it was a downward trajectory,” he said, referring to Iris’ mother.
She nodded. “My brother wanted to keep her hooked up to all of those machines. I wanted them to take her off. I knew she wouldn’t want to linger like that. If she could live without them, wonderful. If not, let her find some peace, finally. But my brother didn’t see it that way. He had been assigned as the person to make decisions for her.”
“He had power of attorney?”
She stopped walking and looked up at him.
“Guardianship.”
She studied his eyes trying to read them. He sandwiched her hand between his. It was such a warm gesture. Iris inhaled deeply then let out a long, slow, and quiet sigh.
“Come on. You can show me your town.” He nudged her a little with his elbow.
She looked at him and smiled. “Okay.”
7
He had all the makings of a guy she’d like to get to know better: good looks, great sense of humor, easy going and — most importantly — an interest in her. But, it was too soon after Peter. Too soon after seeing him with Sara. Too soon to be objective and make good decisions.
She watched as he took in his surroundings like a kid at a circus. There was something familiar about Preston. Maybe it was his mannerisms or the way he said certain phrases. She was at ease with him, like she’d known him all her life. Was it crazy to feel that way about a complete stranger? Was it foolish to try to get to know him better?
These were questions that came to mind as she strolled along Columbus Drive, hand-in-hand with a complete stranger. Handsome. But still a stranger.
Preston smiled at her. Such a great smile, she thought. His coffee-and-cream colored skin was flawless. His eyes were a penetrating brown. His pinpoint dimples were nearly masked by his stubble. His lips were full and pink – quite kissable.
***
Not much to see as they strolled along, just folks out and about enjoying the weather. What he did notice, however, was the number of people who gazed at Iris. Men gawked. Women stared. She was drop-dead gorgeous and seemed totally oblivious to that fact.
“So, where in this big city do you live?”
“I don’t,” she said. “I live in Houston.”
“So you’re here because of your mom?”
She nodded. “I’ll be going home soon, maybe.”
As they approached Grand Avenue, Preston tugged at Iris’ arm to go right. He had no idea where he was going but a large group of people with matching t-shirts were going in the same direction, so it gave him a little confidence they were heading somewhere interesting.
Preston watched her smile widen and her eyes twinkle as she picked up her pace to a near jog. He liked how she crinkled her nose when she smiled.
She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along. “I haven’t been here in ages.”
“I’ve never been here,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures and postcards, but this is my first actual experience.”
“How can you be from Chicago and not experience Navy Pier?”
He shook his head. “I’m not from Chicago.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, realizing her presumption was wrong. “Where are you from?”
“Nowhere and everywhere.”
“Wow, that was vague,” she chuckled.
“My father was in the military, so we lived in a lot of places.”
She nodded with an approving smile. “Nice. Besides Chicago and Houston, I’ve not lived anywhere else. It must’ve been exciting to live in a lot of places. What were some of your favorites?”
“There are a lot of places I don’t remember because I was too young, but some of my favorite memories were during our stint in the UK. We spent some time in Germany. I liked it there, too. Italy, Greece, Turkey, Korea. I was born in California and that’s where my parents live now, so I guess I’d consider that ‘home’, per se.”
“When I was a kid, we lived in that building over there,” she said, pointing south. Far south in the distance near the lakefront was a high-rise building. “There wasn’t much here at that time, so I could look out of my bedroom window and see Navy Pier. Back then, there was nothing here, nothing memorable. I’d lie there in my bed, gazing out the window, dreaming of the day when I could live in that building right there.”
She pointed at the black high-rise just behind the pier. “It’s called Lake Point Tower.”
He looked up, blocking his eyes from the glare of the setting sun. “Nice looking building. Oddly shaped, though.”
She allowed her mind to wander for a moment as she stared at the building, “Someday.”
“I envy you. You have a place that you know as home, where you have roots.”
“What? Are you kidding? You had more stamps on your passport by the time you were eighteen than most people have in their entire lives. What a culturally-rich way to grow up.”
“I never really thought about it that way. So you grew up in the big city, in a high-rise building?”
“I spent part of my childhood in that building down there, and the other part in a house located in a town called Cicero.”
“So, why don’t you show me some more of your city?” He pointed at the water taxi. “How about that? Where will that take us?”
“That will take us there,” she pointed towards the aquarium and planetarium. “That building over there, that’s the Field Museum. That’s the Adler Planetarium. And that right there… that’s the Shedd Aquarium, one of my favorite places.”
“Then let’s go,” he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the ticket booth.
***
He liked the way she sang her words. They were like a song every time she spoke. They resounded with a certain cadence and rhythm, floating on the air like a lingering melody. He was mesmerized.
Once the water taxi reached shore, he helped her onto the platform where her stride sprung into step with his. Her hair, which she had pulled into a ponytail for the boat ride, was windblown. She didn’t seem to mind. Her smile was radiant. She laughed and smiled as they walked along the path to the Field Museum. They ascended the many shallow stairs to the entrance but weren’t allowed inside. It was closing for the evening.
They ran down the stairs, still holding hands, laughing, giggling, and enjoying each other’s company. It had been a long time since Preston wanted to spend any significant time with a woman. Not since Kathy. Kathy had won his heart in Luxembourg, but broke it in London when she decided to return to the U.S. for good. He had tried to convince her to stay. But, she had left, carrying his heart in her hands, when he’d told her about Amanda — the truth about what happened to Amanda. Since then, his dating life had been a series of one-night stands or casual acquaintances for recreation. He decided that he’d never reveal the truth about Amanda ever again. He also didn’t want to get emotionally involved with any woman. He didn’t want to risk his heart again.
Until now.
Now he hadn’t wanted the day to end. There was something about Iris — his wildflower — that enchanted, thrilled, and excited him.
They approached the ticket counter at the Shedd Aquarium. But it, too, was closing. Back outside, she nestled her body close to Preston’s as they sat on the bench, clutching his arm between hers, leaning her head on his shoulder. She seemed so comfortable with him at this point that she snuggled with him quite naturally, not realizing what she was doing. He smiled with warm satisfaction.
The brightness of the sun was behind them as they watched the boats on the lake, periodically gazing into each other’s eyes.
“What’s next?” Iris asked enthusiastically.
8
“There’s still time for that drink,” Preston said.
Iris nodded, “Okay.”
They arrived at the Peach Frog after a brisk walk. The Peach Frog was one of those places where the food had to be good to make up for what it lacked in ambiance. It was the proverbial hole-in-the-wall type of joint, where people went to have a good time and good food.
Preston led Iris to a wobbly folding table draped in a red-and-white checkered vinyl eyesore of a tablecloth. It barely masked the rickety table. The chairs were the typical uncomfortable folding type, like the ones found at school assemblies or on the lawn at informal outdoor events.
She felt particularly beautiful in her white dress. She let her hair down again, freeing her long curls to cascade to mid-back. With a broad smile that lit up his face, Preston held the chair for her, pushing it in gently as she sat. In this lighting, she noticed his stubble might’ve begun as an unruly goatee. She loved a man with a beard — particularly the way it felt when it brushed against her thighs. She missed that sensation. Just for a moment, she got lost in the memory of Peter pleasuring her, replacing Peter’s face with Preston’s. His beard. His tongue. She snapped out of it when she felt Preston’s moist lips press softly against hers.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
A risk taker,she thought. She liked it. She grinned, still a little rattled from thinking about that beard and her thighs and…
“Thank you,” she said.
Preston ordered a beer and Iris requested a “tall, I mean, large iced tea.” The waitress wrote the order in restaurant shorthand on her tablet. After she’d rushed off, Preston leaned back comfortably in his chair, seemingly admiring Iris’ good looks.
Feeling a lot more comfortable with her, he leaned forward and said, “You shouldn’t dress like that.”
“Like what?” She looked down at her outfit, then back at him. “It’s a simple dress.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t wear that body.”
She blushed. It had been a long time since she blushed like that.
“I thought I was buying you a real drink.”
“Iced tea is a real drink. It just doesn’t have alcohol in it,” she smirked.
The restaurant was half full and very dark. The band was setting up. Iris noticed a poster taped — yes, taped — to the wall, announcing live music by the Bandanas every Saturday. The Bandanas was an ethnically-diverse group of men and one woman, each wearing a bandana representing the flag of a country. One wore a Jamaican flag, another Canadian. There were three U.S. flags and one, she assumed, was Mexican. The drummer — the woman — didn’t bother with a country. She had the state flag of Illinois on her bandana, and her t-shirt boasted the Chicago Bears logo.
The waitress returned with their drinks and a basket of thinly sliced onion rings and two dips. Who came up with the idea of serving onion rings as a table snack? Onion breath an
yone? Come on, really? Iris passed on the onion rings but happily sipped her iced tea, still relishing Preston’s compliment.
***
Preston gave her a searching look. She was smiling and sipping her tea and laughing at his silly jokes. He leaned in and caressed her bare arm. She rested in his caress with her head tilted, shoulder raised to her chin. The waitress returned to take their order. They both ordered a burger and fries. Preston asked for another beer. Iris stuck with the iced tea.
“I’m having a lovely time, Preston.”
“I’m glad,” his voice trailed off. Just for a brief moment, he thought about his family but quickly shook that thought from his mind. He was enjoying Iris’ company too much to let his thoughts dampen the moment.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m just fine.”
“That you are,” she reiterated.
A flirt,he thought.
Just then, the squeal of the mic ripped through the restaurant, and the drums boomed, followed by the bass. Before Preston could say anything else, the band was into its first set. The music was loud, drowning out Preston’s voice as he tried to hold a conversation with Iris. She couldn’t hear him. She kept saying ‘what?’ and ‘I can’t hear you.’ Shortly thereafter, the waitress arrived with their drink refills and their food.
The Bandanas weren’t half bad. They were loud but enjoyable. The lead singer had a soulful, raspy voice, and his R&B and Rock n’ Roll renditions of the classics were quite amazing.
Preston signaled for the check then he and Iris left the noisy restaurant for a more peaceful walk, hand-in-hand, through Grant Park. As they approached the fountain, Iris turned to face him, walking backward slowly, smiling, and pulling him along until they could feel the mist from the fountain.
Wildflower Page 4