Will Be Yours Ch. 14

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"You're back."

Becky looked up from behind a bucket of tulips with disappointment on her face. I put my car keys inside my bag as I entered the shop, glancing around the place.

"I thought you'll be happy to see me," I said, getting behind the counter.

"Didn't Luke ask you to stay longer?" she asked, her emerald green eyes wide with surprise. She had called me three or four times over the weekend, but I had restricted the conversation to things about the shop and just life in general. I didn't want Luke to know that I discussed him with my friends.

"I wasn't on my honeymoon!" I rolled my eyes, "Besides, both Luke and I need to earn a living." I looked around the shop again. "Where's Leah?" I asked.

"She got drenched in the rain the day before and has been running a temperature," she said, picking out four tulips to put them into an arrangement. "I gave her the day off."

"Poor thing," I said, rolling my partially dried hair into a bun. "I'll visit her on my way home."

"So tell me." Becky finally returned to form and put the flowers aside. Then she grabbed me by the arms. "What happened?"

I shrugged. "What happened?"

"With Luke." she knocked my forehead with a knuckle. "Did you have fun?"

'Fun' in Becky's dictionary meant something very different from what I and Luke had had over the weekend.

"We did, but don't get ideas," I warned her. "We had a great time."

"Tell me more," she sat down on the small chair and begun to make the arrangement. "What did you do together?"

"Becky..." I shook my head.

"What?" she feigned innocence. "Did you kiss? Did he take you out on a date? Did you tell him about your feelings?"

"You want to know everything?" I threw my hands up.

"No. Just the spicy details," she sniggered.

"You'll never change, will you?" I sighed, unzipping my bag. "I got something for you. Too bad Leah isn't here."

"What?" she looked at me. "You were thinking about us when you were supposed to be having hot sex with Luke?!"

I slapped her shoulder, and then laughed, holding out the gift to her. "See if you like it."

Becky unwrapped the present to find an Aztec printed silk scarf. I had picked all the gifts in a hurry. But Becky's expression gave away her delight.

"This is beautiful." She spread the scarf on her palms and stared at it. "I can't believe you remembered that I love Aztec prints."

"I did." I took the scarf from her and wrapped it around her neck. "Looks better this way," I said with a smile, admiring how nice the scarf looked with her beige blouse.

"Thank you!" Becky laughed, holding me in a fierce embrace that made breathing difficult for a moment. She pulled away and looked into my eyes. "Did Luke get you anything?" she asked, not willing to let go of the subject.

"Yes, but I haven't opened it yet."

"Why didn't you tell him about your feelings?" Her tone this time was serious.

"I don't know if he feels the same way," I murmured, lending her a hand with the arrangement. Who was I kidding? Luke had sung to me, he had kissed me, and taken me to meet his sister. Wasn't that enough to confirm how he felt?

"Cyn, he wouldn't have asked you to spend a whole weekend with him if he didn't have feelings for you," she smiled knowingly.

"I was there on work," I pointed out. "It's not like I was there for him."

"But a man must seize the moment," she winked at me. "Dad says that a lot. And I see Luke believes in it too."

"I don't want to read too deep," I said.

"There's no rule book in this world that says a woman cannot make the first move." Becky lightly squeezed my shoulder, before fetching a small bamboo basket. "Leah and I were talking the day before how happy we are to find you finally showing interest in someone," she said, her back to me. "When I first started working here, I used to notice your quietness, like you were disturbed about something always. I don't know the details, but Carrie once told me you've gone through some terrible things because of that son-of-a-bitch. He better be hiding under some slimy, remote rock so that I cannot find him."

I turned around and smiled. "It's not the flower's fault that people are so mean sometimes," I laughed softly, referring to the tulip she was crushing in her hand. Becky dropped the flower, giving me a smile.

"You used to be very touchy as well," she giggled. "Remember the first time I offered to set you up on a date? You didn't speak to me for three days! I'm just glad you didn't fire me."

"I'll never fire you." I gently pinched her cheek. "You make for such amazing entertainment."

She made a face and pushed my hand away, just as a couple of customers entered the shop. They greeted me with a smile, having obviously known that I was out of town for the weekend.

"I'll take the counter," I told Becky, before dumping my bag in the small office in the back of the shop. I came out and took my place in front of the monitor, turning it on.

Managing the accounts was Leah's department, and she did the work so well, I often thought she'd do great at an accounting firm than at a flower shop. Funnily enough, all three of us worked at the shop not because it was the best job in the world but because of our love for flowers. Every day, we managed to bring happiness and cheer into many people's lives with our blooms. If we ever needed to hire more people, we'd make sure to test her on her love and knowledge of flowers.

"By when do you need it?" I heard Becky asking a customer, who wanted to place an order for a memorial service. The order would need to be delivered to the neighbouring town.

"By early on Thursday," the man replied. "It's a small order for just one room."

"Would you like clusters of white lilies and roses?" I asked, turning the chair to look at him.

"That would be great," the man smiled, "My mom loved white lilies."

I motioned Becky to take down the order, making a mental note myself to pick up some more lilies and roses when I went to the flower market tomorrow. The mention of white lilies inevitably reminded me of Diana. Luke had mentioned her love for the flower a lot of times, so much so that it had become impossible for me to deal with white lilies and not think of her. As I watched the man leave after placing the order, and another two customers enter, I randomly opened the web browser on the computer and typed the words 'Diana Nesbrit cellist'. In a fraction of a second, page after page of news articles appeared before me, leaving me stunned. Diana wasn't just a cellist; she was also a composer, with two concertos to her name. According to one website, she was the daughter of Dave and Daphne Nesbrit, a doctor and a schoolteacher respectively, and had been introduced to the cello at age four. She won her first award when she was twelve and made her international debut at thirteen. I felt my skin breaking into goosebumps as I scrolled down the images. Diana had been an ever smiling person, not to mention extremely beautiful in a very wild and lively way. She looked like she'd loved to talk and to laugh, because in all of her photos she was a vivacious woman with a million dollar smile. My eyes welled up when I saw a number of photos of her with Luke. In a few of them they were posing, and in the others, they were just a regular, happy couple. Luke must have been so proud of her. She was so talented, so gifted. Anyone would feel proud of someone like that.

"What are you doing this evening?" Becky's voice drew my attention. I stealthily wiped off a tear, and looked at her.

"I want to go home and unpack my luggage," I said, watching her put up a new basket of orchids after the one had been sold. "And then get some sleep."

"I was wondering if you'd like to grab a quick bite somewhere," she told me. "Allen's away on work. I'm going to get bored at home alone."

"I have a better idea," I smiled, "Why don't we close early, then order in a big mozzarella pizza, and have a good time right here?"

"You'll enthral me with juicy stories about you and Luke over pizza?" she licked her lips, making me laugh out.

"But the idea isn't bad," she added. "And since you've done a lot of travelling the past few days and aren't in the mood to go anywhere today, I think it'll do both of us good to eat in the office."

She turned to head inside to the back room. "Make it mozzarella and cheddar, along with some mushrooms and chicken... and don't forget the bell peppers..."

As Becky headed inside rambling, I glanced at the monitor again. The fact that Luke had (and maybe still did) deeply loved and cared for someone else in the past didn't bother me. But I was no match for Diana. I had never made anybody proud. I would never be able to make him proud. That was what bothered me.

The sound of crickets and the melody of the drizzle cloaked the leaden night, with chances of a heavy shower later. I missed Luke. After quite a few weeks, I felt lonely again that night. After gorging on a pizza with Becky, we had dropped in to visit Leah, who was better after a day at home. She had also loved her scarf, gushing over the beautiful floral print. I had returned home and unpacked my luggage, before being given a shout out by Carrie to join them for dinner. All four of them had loved their presents- the spirit lover Scott couldn't stop thanking me for the wine pairing towels, the cook in Carrie had taken only a moment to decide what to use all the different kinds of honey for, and the boys had immediately worn the t-shirts for me to see how they looked. Scott had friends in every part of the country and vacationed with his family very often, and whenever he went somewhere, he always remembered to bring back something for me. The gifts would mostly be chosen by Carrie, and even though I never showed it openly, she knew my fondness for clothes. So she always got me scarves, stoles, printed jackets, and belts from their trips. She had once got me a lovely blue button down dress, but the size turned out to be much too large for me. Not one to give up, Carrie had taken the pains to alter the fittings herself. The dress was now one of my favourites.

Surprisingly, Carrie had been less nosy that night. She had asked me about Luke and about our time together, and also about Julie's wedding, but she hadn't pressed or prodded. Perhaps, Scott had asked her to be on her best behaviour.

I sat on my front porch and watched the drizzle, accompanied by a cup of coffee. The night was cool and sweet-smelling, and in the distance, I could make out the smudged outline of the mountains. The plants and flowers in the lawn quivered under the raindrops, making a sight to behold in the soft light reflected from the porch. I remembered what Luke had said to me the day I took him to the flower market- that he couldn't imagine a city girl moving to a small town and living a quiet life. Three or four years back, I couldn't have imagined it either. But I also knew that I could have never recovered from my horrid experiences if I hadn't moved to the town. The people here had embraced me warmly, not questioning me or judging me, but accepting me and giving me a new chance at life. Unlike Birmingham, where I'd hardly had any friend, here I made friendships more easily. I could safely say that I had become more sociable while running my own business and meeting people on the way. In the serenity of the hills, my wishes found wings, my dreams found meaning, my desires found expression.

The thought of Luke made me smile, as did the fond memory of meeting his sister's kids. Anna Rose and Lily Sue were adorable, and Harry was cute as a button. Luke's love for his nephews and nieces was heart-warming; I'd never had a dad, not even an uncle to love me that way, which made Luke's attachment to the kids even more appealing in my eyes. Megan indeed was very garrulous, but I found it entertaining. Perhaps this way of accepting and welcoming strangers into their lives ran in Luke's family.

While thinking of Luke and Megan, I remembered their presents which were still in my bag. I had already seen Megan's gift, but Luke's gift was still unopened. I rose from the wicker chair and walked inside the house, keeping the coffee cup on the dining table. As I switched on a light, my eyes fell on the large shoulder bag sitting on the small table near the window. On opening it, I realised there were a few pieces of underwear and a couple of scarves inside that I had forgotten to take out and keep in their proper places. Under the garments were Megan's lovely floral brooch and the small gift from Luke, wrapped in bright red glossy paper. I tore off the wrapper to find a small, white, slide box, inside which was a perfectly preserved Oxeye daisy. I knew also where it had come from. Emotion welled inside me. I pressed my fingers to my lips to stop the sob pushing its way up my throat.

Oh god...

I drew in a ragged breath. My eyes and throat burned as I traced the perfect, spoon-shaped white petals. At one time, I had told him that the right man would know what my favourite flower was. And Luke knew.

I clutched the small box to my chest. He couldn't have given me anything more meaningful. And I didn't miss the symbolism. Those daisies would always remind me of my mom's house, of my lawn, of our weekend together.

"He loves me." The barely audible words hung in the air, as the tears rolled down my cheeks. "He loves me," I repeated. The words sounded so right. Still clutching the box to my chest, I closed my eyes, breathing unsteadily.

"I love him, too," the words came out on a breath, like a jolt from my subconscious. It was something I had felt for weeks but had been too afraid to admit. After what I'd experienced with Sam, the thought of finding love again had left my mind. And then Luke came along unexpectedly. Someone with his own tragedy, his own secret grief. But we opened up to each other, more easily than we ever had with anybody else, and talking about our past and our baggage wasn't tinged with shame or guilt. The comfort we felt with each other had fooled everyone into believing we'd been friends forever.

Friends. That was what was different about him. Unlike Sam, he'd not tried to lure me with fancy words or poetry. Instead, he gave me warmth, supported me, and protected me when I felt weak and vulnerable, helped me open up without feeling afraid. He also made me laugh. Through his stay in Velmont Town, and over the past weekend at his apartment, I had gone to sleep every night with a smile on my face.

I love him. Like I never knew I could love again.

I bit my lip, staring at the flower. Were the tears ever going to stop?

Despite how badly I wanted to speak to Luke, I knew I hadn't taken his number. I shook my head, grumbling at my own foolishness. And then I remembered that I had parts of my past to remove from the way before I could tell Luke about my feelings.

Keeping the flower on the bed, I walked up to my wardrobe. From inside, I pulled out the same cloth bag that contained my old diary. Pulling out the diary and keeping the bag back inside, I shut the wardrobe. The tears were finally ceasing, and without thinking twice, I rushed out of my room, grabbed a couple of logs from the fireplace, and went to the shaded part of my back yard. Dropping the logs and the diary on the ground, I ran back inside the house and found a box of matches from the kitchen. With my pulse racing, I returned to the back yard. I squatted, surrounded by the drizzle and the sound of the crickets, and lit a match. Then I looked at the diary. Sam had no place in my life. He had ceased to exist years ago.

As I dropped the diary in the flames and watched it burn to ashes, a smile broke out on my face, even as tears glistened in my eyes. Tears of joy. The joy of being free from the past. The joy of finding love again.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

I was in love with Luke, the man who had healed me.

(To be continued)