Chapter 21
21
In the morning, Angel woke to Iris’s empty side of the bed. He blinked and shaded his eyes from the sunlight, adjusting to the unfamiliarity of her bedroom. The walls had looked white last night, but in daylight, he could see that they were painted sky blue. There was no clutter in her room, just signature Iris orderliness. He smiled and turned over, letting out a deep, contented sigh.
Her house was quiet. Growing up, his Sunday mornings had been filled with his parents bustling around, blasting gospel music before church. And now, if he wasn’t traveling for work, he usually woke to the sound of Leah and Maxine creating chaos. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, listening for the sound of Iris moving around somewhere in the house. When he still heard nothing, he swung his legs around the side of the bed and shrugged on his boxers and joggers.
He found Iris outside in her backyard. She wore the same long T-shirt from last night and pajama shorts as she crouched in front of a large bush with sprouting purple flowers, holding the water hose in one hand.
“Good morning,” he said, stepping outside barefoot.
She turned, smiling at him as she stood. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Amazing.” He gazed at her garden as he walked toward her. It was like a spring oasis, filled with green, purple, pink and yellow. He didn’t know much about plants, but her garden looked well taken care of. “This is so dope.”
She put her hands on her hips and glanced around. “Yeah, I try my best. Thank you.”
He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso. He kissed the top of her head. “Which one is your favorite?”
She gasped, twisting to look up at him. “I can’t pick a favorite. I love all of them.” But her eyes went to the bush with the bundles of purple flowers. She lowered her voice and pointed. “Okay, maybe the hydrangeas. But only because they’re so high-maintenance and I’ve managed to keep them alive.”
“Why are we whispering?” Angel asked, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk.
“Because I think plants can hear us. I talk to mine all the time.”
How was he not supposed to kiss her when she said endearing things like that? He tipped her chin up gently as he pressed his lips to hers. She dropped the hose and eased into him, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. He loved that this felt like it was second nature to them already.
His stomach growled, and Iris laughed again between kisses.
“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked.
“Whatever cereal you have is fine with me.”
“I’ve got lots of options in the cabinet,” she said. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. Feel free to help yourself to anything.”
He followed her back inside and stopped in the kitchen while she continued on into the hallway.
“Wait, what time is your daughter coming back?” he asked, realizing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“In the afternoon,” Iris called back. “She likes to be at the shop with my parents on Sundays. I’ll pick her up in a couple hours.”
“Cool.”
He opened her cabinets, which were stocked with food. Lots of cereal options, like she’d said. He poured a bowl of Frosted Flakes and some almond milk. Out of curiosity, he took a peek inside her freezer. Yep, she had a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Horrible. But he’d buy her a lifetime supply if it made her happy.
He sat at the island and ate his cereal. He liked the calm, the quiet. Most of all, he liked that Iris was somewhere here too, existing with him in the same vicinity. It felt domestic and normal. It was the kind of simplicity and stability he’d been craving for as long as he could remember. And they had all morning to lounge around. Maybe he’d convince her to get back in the tub with him…
The jingling of keys at the front door made Angel freeze, midchew. The door opened.
“Iris!” a woman called.
As her voice grew closer, Angel remembered that he was shirtless. He dived for his denim jacket that he’d left on the chair last night and hastily buttoned it up to his collar.
“Iris, where—” The woman stopped midsentence as she entered the kitchen.
It took Angel a moment to place her. Her features were familiar—the shape of her face and eyes. This was Iris’s mother. He’d met her at Violet’s anti-wedding party years ago and a couple months prior at Violet’s wedding. Her name was Dahlia. She gaped at Angel.
Angel cleared his throat as blood rushed to his face. “Good morning.”
Dahlia stared at him slack-jawed. “G-good morning.”
Iris’s daughter trailed into the kitchen behind Dahlia. Her head was adorned with braids and pink barrettes. She was holding what looked like a stuffed dinosaur toy, and her attention was focused on her grandmother, until she noticed Angel standing there. She blinked at him, her small eyebrows scrunching together.
“Who are you?” Calla asked.
“I’m Angel.” He approached them with a smile. “I’m a friend of your mom’s. It’s nice to meet you.” To Dahlia, he said, “Iris is in the shower. She should be down soon.”
Dahlia’s smile was slow and delighted, like that of the Cheshire cat. “ Oh , I see.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of her smile. Here he was meeting Iris’s mom and daughter while shirtless beneath his jacket and standing barefoot in her kitchen. What kind of first—or third, in Dahlia’s case—impression was that? He cleared his throat again and let out a nervous laugh.
“Mom?” Iris called. Her feet pounded down the steps. She raced into the kitchen and sputtered to a stop. She’d thrown on a T-shirt and jeans. She looked fresh-faced and beautiful. She glanced from Angel to her daughter to her mother. Mild panic overtook her features. “I—I thought I was coming to get Calla this afternoon.”
Dahlia’s eyes lingered on Angel before she turned to Iris. “Your father pulled his back this morning.”
“ What? ” Iris said. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. We took him to urgent care and they gave him some pain meds. We had to close down the shop for the day and send the employees home. That’s why I dropped Calla off. I didn’t realize you were preoccupied…” She glanced at Angel again.
“Why did you close down the shop?” Iris asked, pointedly ignoring her mother’s sly smile directed toward Angel.
“We don’t have anyone to run it. I want to be home with your father.”
Iris sighed, frustrated. “The store’s going to be so busy today now that the Flower Studio is closed. This is exactly why I keep telling you and Dad that you need to hire a manager.”
“And I keep telling you that we’re the managers.”
“Well, I’m going to run the shop today,” Iris said. “I still remember how to do everything.”
“No! You’re busy!” Dahlia shot another glance at Angel. “I’ll take Calla back home with me.”
“I’m happy to help any way I can,” Angel interrupted.
Iris turned to him sharply, eyes widening in surprise. “No, I can’t ask that of you.”
“It’s really no big deal,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to head to the studio until later tonight anyway.”
“If you want to keep the shop open today so badly, you could probably use him…” Dahlia said, raising her eyebrows.
Years ago, during one of their many fittings, Violet had mentioned offhandedly to Angel that her mom could be very meddlesome when it suited her. Now he could see what Violet meant. He had to admit that Dahlia’s very obvious hints were kind of funny, though.
Iris frowned as she looked at Angel, then at Calla.
Dahlia’s phone rang. “Oh, this is your father calling.” She turned away and ushered Calla with her into the living room.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Iris said quietly. “She has a key and sometimes she comes over unannounced, but it’s always just me and Calla here. I wish that she would have called first.”
In Iris’s strained expression, Angel read what else she probably wasn’t saying—that she hadn’t been ready for him to meet Calla yet, which he understood. They’d agreed to take things slow, and meeting her daughter the morning after his first sleepover at her house was not very ideal.
Her dad injuring his back wasn’t ideal either, and if Iris needed his help at the store, Angel wanted to give it.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. His heartbeat had finally regulated. If he’d been caught completely shirtless, it would have been a different story. “What are you gonna do?”
“Sunday is the busiest day of the week at the shop, and it’s the middle of summer. If they close for the day, they’ll lose a ton of business.”
“So go to the shop and run it, like you said. I can come with you.”
“I can’t steal you away to work in my parents’ shop.” Iris shook her head. “You’re even busier than me. Don’t you want to rest until you have to be at the studio?”
“You’re not stealing me if I’m offering,” he said. “And I’d rather be here to help you out.”
“I don’t know. Are you sure?”
He saw how hard it was for her to accept help from him. He stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders firmly. “Yes, I’m sure. Let me help you.”
She bit her lip. “Okay,” she said finally. “I have to make sure that it’s okay with Calla too.”
“Of course.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll still get dressed either way.”
He jogged upstairs and threw on the jeans and T-shirt that he’d packed. He gathered his duffel bag too, just in case Calla wasn’t comfortable with him joining her and Iris at the store. He hoped she’d be okay with it, but if she wasn’t, he understood. He hoped he’d have a chance to meet her again under better circumstances.
As he came downstairs, he overhead Iris and Calla in the kitchen, midconversation, speaking in low tones.
“He’s your friend?” he heard Calla ask in her light voice. “Like how Nena is my friend?”
“Sort of,” Iris said softly. “We’re getting to know each other more. I like spending time with him.”
Angel felt himself smile at that. He leaned against the hallway wall, not wanting to interrupt them. In the living room, he could hear Dahlia talking on the phone to Iris’s dad.
“He offered to help us at the store today,” Iris continued. “But I only want him to come if you’re okay with it too. And it’s okay if you aren’t.”
Calla was quiet. Angel held his breath, anxious to hear Calla’s response. Finally, she said, “If he’s your friend and he’s nice to you, I don’t mind if he comes.”
Angel breathed a sigh of relief, and his heart stuttered at the sound of Iris’s laugh.
“He is very nice to me,” she said.
“Okay. Good,” Calla said simply.
Angel’s mouth strained with the strength of his smile. He was grateful that he didn’t have to be separated from Iris just yet, grateful to have Calla’s approval for joining them this afternoon.
“Do you have any questions for me?” Iris asked.
“I don’t think so,” Calla said. Then, “Wait. Does he like dinosaurs?”
Angel held in a laugh and raised an eyebrow at that one.
“I’m not sure,” Iris said. “But we can definitely ask him.”
He took that as his cue to reenter the kitchen. At the same time, Dahlia ended her phone call and walked into the kitchen too. Three sets of eyes turned to look at him.
“Angel, I want to introduce you to Calla,” Iris said. Smiling at Angel tentatively, she placed her hand on Calla’s shoulder.
Angel recognized the significance of this moment, and he felt the weight of his hope for Calla to like him. He also knew that he probably wouldn’t have been introduced to Calla this soon if it weren’t for Dahlia coming over unexpectedly. But maybe meeting Calla right now was fate. He didn’t know.
Calla was so small. Angel felt gargantuan as he stood in front of her. She craned her neck to look up at him. He wanted to look her in the eye, so he knelt down, meeting her gaze.
“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out his hand. Calla gingerly placed her small hand in his and they shook.
“You look familiar,” she said quietly, looking at him. She glanced up at her mom for further explanation.
Iris chewed the inside of her cheek and Angel wondered how she would handle this. Would she tell Calla that he was famous and that was the reason that he looked familiar? He didn’t mind if Calla knew the full truth about who he was, but Iris knew best. He fell quiet, letting her take the lead.
“We’ve seen him on television before,” Iris said. “He’s a singer.”
Calla turned to Angel again. “You can sing?”
He nodded.
“Can you sing something right now?”
“ Calla ,” Iris said, laughing. But Calla continued to watch Angel, like he was a magician and she wanted to see a magic trick.
“Okay, sure.” Angel began to sing a melody from “Summertime Fine,” figuring it might be a song that Calla would recognize since it was more recent.
When he finished singing, Calla smiled. “ Wow. ” Then as if she remembered her manners, she said, “Thank you.”
Angel felt himself grin. “You’re welcome.”
He didn’t miss the way that Dahlia elbowed Iris and wiggled her eyebrows. Iris sighed and ignored her mom.
“Okay, let’s go to the shop,” Iris said, twirling keys in her hand.
Dahlia sidled up beside Angel as they walked outside. “Iris hasn’t brought a man around in a long time,” she said quietly.
Angel glanced at Iris’s mom, unsure of what to say. It was obvious that Dahlia had no idea that he and Iris had been seeing each other. He’d promised Iris that he’d respect her privacy, and in a way, that meant even when speaking to her mom.
“How long have you been spending time with my daughter?” Dahlia asked.
“It’s new,” he said, offering a polite smile.
Dahlia eyed him. Her Cheshire cat grin returned. “I hope we’ll get to see you around more often.”
“Mom, please stop harassing Angel,” Iris said, unlocking the car doors.
“ Harassing? ” Offended, Dahlia pressed a hand to her chest. To Angel, she said, “I wasn’t harassing you, was I?”
Angel laughed and shook his head.
“I love your music, by the way,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“You’re handsome in pictures, but they really don’t do you justice. In person, you’re just as gorgeous as can be!”
Iris looped her arm through Angel’s and physically dragged him away from her mother.
“I’ll drop the keys off later!” Iris shouted to Dahlia, as she, Angel and Calla climbed into her car.
On the way to the shop, Iris called her sisters on three-way and explained their dad’s injury. Violet was hysterical and wanted to know if she should ask one of her celebrity friends for a back specialist referral. Lily fretted over what might have happened if the injury had been worse. Iris, who’d been upset about their father just moments ago, easily calmed her frantic younger sisters.
Angel reached for her hand, placed on her gear shift. At first, she glanced over at him, startled. But then she relaxed and smiled gratefully. Who takes care of you? He’d asked her that back in DC. She shouldered so many responsibilities. It was clear that she could take care of herself, and she probably prided herself on that. But he wanted to support her too, care for her when she needed it.
It wasn’t until they arrived at the shop that Iris looked at Angel and gasped.
“We forgot about your disguise,” she said.
They decided that he’d wear a bandanna over the lower half of his face and a Greenehouse baseball cap to cover his recognizable burgundy hair. He borrowed a pair of plain Wayfarer sunglasses that Iris kept in her glove compartment.
The shop quickly filled with churchgoers buying bouquets and people buying plants and flowers for their weekend gardening hobbies. Iris worked the register, while Angel helped pack carts and carry items to customers’ cars. As expected, people asked a lot of questions about plants. Angel shrugged and apologized when he couldn’t provide an answer, saying that today was his first day, which was technically true.
When a woman approached him, holding a large dark green plant with sprawling leaves and asked what kind of sunlight it needed, Calla appeared beside Angel and rescued him from having to say I’m not sure for the millionth time.
“That’s a corn plant,” Calla said, pointing. “Don’t put it directly in the sun. It likes shade.”
The woman smiled at Calla and thanked her.
“Thank you,” Angel said to Calla. He grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know nearly enough about plants to work here, obviously.”
“My grandparents tell me a lot, and my mom,” she said. She eyed Angel curiously. “Do you want to know something else that I know a lot about?”
“What?”
“Dinosaurs.”
He blinked and then recalled her question from earlier about whether or not he liked dinosaurs. They must have been important to her. “What do you know about them?”
For the rest of the afternoon, Calla trailed after Angel and kept him entertained with her various dinosaur facts. Sometimes, he asked for more clarification on a fact—like if male and female T. rex es looked different from each other, and she’d scrunch up her face adorably and say that she didn’t know but she’d look it up later and tell him.
At one point, he glanced over toward the register and found Iris was watching them, smiling softly.
“You raised a great kid,” he said quietly, sliding up behind her once there was a brief break in customer traffic.
Iris looked at him over her shoulder with warmth in her eyes. “Thank you.”
She reached back and squeezed his hand quickly, then let go as a new customer entered the shop.
By the end of the day, Angel’s arms and knees were sorer from lifting and carrying heavy potted plants and bags of soil than they were after dance rehearsal or a workout.
“I can see why your dad hurt his back,” he said as Iris counted cash from the register.
She sighed and looked up at him. “I know. They don’t want to hire someone to run the shop for them. It’s been frustrating, to say the least.” She smiled tiredly. “Thank you so much for helping out today.”
“Of course,” he said. He glanced at Calla, who was busy sweeping behind the register. The broom was almost taller than her. Angel grinned. “It was fun, actually.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really. It was kinda peaceful. Simple.”
Iris smiled and started to reply but glanced toward the door as one final customer walked in.
“Sorry, sorry, I know you’re closing!” a woman shouted. She wore a blue sundress and a matching sun hat. She quickly picked up a pot of pink and blue morning glories and brought them to the register. “I drove almost twenty-five minutes to get here, and halfway I realized I needed to stop for gas. The Flower Studio was a five-minute drive from my house, but they’re closed, so here I am.” She cast a glance behind her, wiping the sweat from her brow. She turned back to Iris. “This is a lovely store.”
“Thank you,” Iris said as she swiped the woman’s credit card. “If you don’t mind my asking…Has a new florist or nursery bought the Flower Studio’s retail space yet?”
The woman shook her head. “Not that I know of. The last time I drove by, a ‘For Rent’ sign was still in the window.”
“Huh,” Iris said. “Well, thanks so much for making the trip to Greenehouse.”
The woman promised that she’d be back, and Angel carried her pot to her car. When he returned, Calla had progressed to sweeping the center of the store. Iris was leaning her elbows on the register, watching the woman drive away. Her brows furrowed.
“Would it be crazy if I suggested to my parents that we take over the Flower Studio’s space and open up another Greenehouse location?” she asked.
Angel leaned his hip against the register, facing her. “No,” he said. “But who would run it?”
“That’s the problem. I can’t because I already have a job.” She chewed her bottom lip, frowning, thinking. “It’s just that…well, today I finally felt energized about work, and I haven’t felt that way in so long. Anyway, it was just a thought. I’m sure someone else has their eye on the space.” She smirked and nodded her head at her daughter, who was trying her best to maneuver the big broom throughout the shop. “I think Calla could probably use some help.”
“On it,” Angel said, saluting her, and she laughed.
Iris turned on some music and Angel hummed while he swept. Iris shimmied her hips and Calla skipped over and mimicked her mom. They laughed together, and the sound was so beautiful. Angel watched them, and his heart expanded.
For years, he’d been eager to carve out a piece of his life that grounded and sustained him—something to contrast with his usual hectic pace. This weekend with Iris had been just what he’d needed. He imagined a future where he came to the shop to help her and her family whenever he could. Returning from work trips and staying with her at her house. And eventually getting to know Calla better. He saw the ways that he and Iris could fit together.
As he watched her laugh with her daughter, he craved to know how he could make his place in her life more permanent. It was on his mind heavy, and it was the reason why he gave voice to a new question as they drove back to her house.
“The honor ceremony in Maren is next Saturday,” he said. Iris looked over at him, then glanced back at Calla, who dozed in the backseat. “Would you like to come with me?”
Iris paused, and his stomach tightened as he waited for her response.
“We don’t have to tell anyone the truth about us,” he said quickly. He suddenly worried that he was ruining the comfortable bubble that they’d existed in for the last twenty-four hours. But he wanted her to be at the ceremony with him, to have her by his side as he went back to Georgia and accepted an award that was important to his hometown.
“It’s a small-town event,” he continued. “Maybe the local newspaper will be there, but otherwise it’s not a big deal. No paparazzi. Leah will be there and Ray too. We can say we’re friends or even that you’re a member of my team if someone asks. I’d just really like to have you there with me, and I know I’d regret not asking.”
Iris was quiet as she focused on the road. When they reached a stoplight, she turned to him.
“I want to support you,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. A gentle smile played across her lips. “I can come, but I’ll have to be on the first flight out Sunday morning.”
“For sure.” His relief felt palpable. “So…how would you feel if I bought you a lifetime supply of mint chocolate chip ice cream as a thank-you?”
Iris laughed so loud, she woke Calla, who wanted to know what was so funny.