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“It was the guy who gave me a ride. Kane. He’s buying flowers across the street. We had dinner last night,” Iris said and hurried on at John’s squeal of delight. “Accidentally. We accidentally had dinner last night. He’s cool.”
“How does one accidentally have dinner after accidentally hitching a ride with him?” John demanded.
“It’s a small town, John. It’s normal to run into people all the time.” She paused as Kane exited the store, a shopping tote on his shoulder with two bunches of flowers in his hand. Looking up, he waved at her, and she grinned, tipping her coffee cup to him. Her eyes widened when he crossed the street to her place, and then she couldn’t see him anymore. Was he…? The buzzer sounded in her apartment, startling her so that coffee slopped from the rim of her mug to her hand. “Shit!”
“What? What’s happening?” John demanded.
“He just rang my bell. And I spilled coffee on my hand,” Iris growled.
“Is he bringing you flowers?” John’s voice rose into a squeal, and Iris rolled her eyes. “I am so here for this. Yes, a redemption arc for my Moonie! Get it, girl.”
“Nothing to get…except going. Byeeeeeee,” Iris trilled into the phone, disconnecting and looking down at her clothes with a sigh. She hadn’t been expecting company, so she wore leggings, a simple white T-shirt, and no bra. Her hair was in knots around her head, and she probably had makeup smeared around her eyes. However, she didn’t have to impress anyone, did she? It wasn’t like she or Kane were interested in dating again anytime soon. They’d both agreed on their mutual distrust for the world. Pressing the button to let him up, Iris quickly scanned the room to see if anything distressing, like her purple silk bra, was lying out, but she’d tidied everything this morning already. That was something she’d learned when she was younger–small spaces didn’t lend themselves well to clutter.
“Good morning,” Iris called, opening the door and leaning against the doorjamb. She wasn’t sure about inviting him into her space, so she waited while he clambered up the steps.
“Good morning…is it still morning?” Kane wrinkled his forehead in question. He looked fresh, a lightness about his face that hadn’t been there the last two times she’d seen him. She wondered if Ireland was slowly working its magic on him as it was her.
“It’s just past eleven so, yes, still morning.” Iris grinned at him. It was hard not to. He was like a burly lumberjack with golden retriever energy. The plaid button-down he wore today added to the outdoorsman feel, and Iris marveled at the woman who had decided to cheat on this man.
“I won’t be bothering you, but I figured you might enjoy a few posies as well,” Kane said, handing her one of the bunches of flowers he held. Iris’s heart caught, and she pursed her lips, surprised at his gesture.
“Really? That’s…very sweet of you, Kane,” Iris said, a suspicious note in her voice. Kane laughed, reading her clearly.
“Listen, I figured that since I had nobody to buy flowers for anymore, I would buy myself some. And yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous, but I can’t keep plants alive for the life of me, so it’s nice to have flowers once in a while. And when I saw you in the window, I thought you might appreciate some flowers as well. Because you know what, Iris?”
“What’s that, Kane?” Iris said, enjoying his bravado.
“We deserve it.” Kane punctuated his words with a finger in the air.
“You’re right. We’re smart, good-looking, and nice people. We do deserve flowers.” Iris laughed, appreciating the ridiculousness of it all.
“Oh, so she thinks I’m good-looking. Duly noted,” Kane said, already on his way back down the stairs. “I’ll leave before you skewer me with one of your glares and ruin any false hopes I have.”
Iris rolled her eyes even though he did make her smile. He’d been lightly flirting with her since they’d met, and she’d realized last night that was likely just his personality. She wasn’t going to read into anything.
“I said we’re good-looking. It would be rude to compliment myself and not you as well, not when you’ve brought me flowers and all.”
“Oh, a pity compliment. Can I say my ego’s crushed enough that I’ll lap up any crumbs you throw my way?” Kane called up and, despite herself, Iris laughed.
“Thank you for my flowers.”
“Welcome…” Iris just heard the door open, and street sounds filled the stairwell before it shut once more. Amused, she closed the door behind her and dug around until she found an old Mason jar she could put the flowers in. Arranging the bunch, Iris took it over to the windowsill and placed the flowers in the light, and then stepped back. They did look pretty in the apartment. Kane also wasn’t wrong. They did deserve flowers. Neither of them had done anything wrong in their relationships, so maybe treating themselves on occasion would bolster their moods. Speaking of which…it was time for Iris to go pick up her painting. She’d already cleared a spot for it behind the bed, happy that the singular long shelf that lined the wall would support the painting without her having to nail anything into the wall. She didn’t yet know how long she planned to stay, but hanging pictures felt a touch too permanent for her at the moment.
After a shower, Iris pulled on a pair of black jeans, a simple white button-down, and her leather jacket. She left her hair to tumble over her shoulders, hooked in some dangly quartz earrings, and grabbed her crossbody fringed purse. With a last look at the cheerful vase of flowers by the window, Iris left her apartment and made her way outside.
The weather was moody, which suited Iris just fine, and she zipped her jacket as a brisk wind carried over the harbor. The color of the water lent toward slate gray today, with little white caps tipping the waves, and she wondered if they were due for rain. The cold didn’t seem to bother any tourists who unloaded from buses and clamored to take pictures of the brightly colored buildings hugging the harbor road. Iris wondered if the bright colors were meant to dispel some of the grayness that came with the gloomy weather. She turned at the gallery just as the first rain drops began to fall and stepped through the door.
Iris noted vanilla and lavender for the candle scent today, appreciating the shop's warmth and coziness. The ceiling held soft track lighting that highlighted the rich colors of the art on the walls, and brightly colored rugs were tossed randomly over the honey-colored wood floors. Today, a different woman stood at the counter, and Iris’s eyes caught on her as Ophelia clamored for attention in her brain.
“Talk to her. She’s a good one,” Ophelia offered, and Iris nodded gently, so Ophelia would know she’d heard. Tuning her out, Iris pasted a smile on her face as the woman turned. Immediately, Iris understood why Ophelia wanted her to engage. She detected the same wisp of otherness about this woman as she had Morgan.
“Hello, welcome. Is there anything I can help you look for today?” the woman asked, clasping her hands in front of her. She wore a knit tunic in rich turquoise and purple with a tumble of crystals at her neck and on her wrists. Her gray hair curled wildly down her back, and her eyes were kind and assessing.
“I’ve come to pay for the painting I put on reserve yesterday. My name is Iris Dillon,” Iris said, and a curious look passed across the woman’s face before her smile widened.
“Of course! I’m delighted this painting is going to a good home. Morgan mentioned that you’d connected with it immediately. It surely makes my heart sing to know when my work has found the right owner.”
“Ah, you’re the artist,” Iris said. “I’m in awe of what you’ve created here. Not only is this a great shop, but your work is stunning. Truly stunning.”
