A boyfriend, surely, would not meet her in the car. I turn around, heading for her door instead. A boyfriend might also have some flowers, you muppet.
Flowers? Where the fuck am I going to—oh. Behind the cabins, wild daisies are blowing gently in the evening breeze. I pick one, planning to pick a few more, but feel a little bad pulling them out of the earth.
When the hell did I get so concerned about plant life?
Shaking my head, I take the single daisy with me back to Violet’s door. I reach out to knock, but the door flings open, and Violet almost runs smack into me.
Ah! She screams, surprised to find me there, a hard wall of stone. I grab her arms to support her, and my god, she smells good. Something sweet like caramel with a hint of coffee—my brain conjures up lazy mornings in bed.
Easy there, I say. When she stands up and looks at me, I feel my heart pounding wildly. She’s wearing a soft—and I know it’s soft because I just felt it pressed up against me—light blue dress. The neckline is low but the sleeves are a little puffed up. Her hair has been mostly dried and smoothed and if she’s said anything to me in the last thirty seconds, I’ve not heard a word of it.
Sorry? I say, my voice croaking. What the fuck?
She smiles. I didn’t say anything.
Well, fuck me gently. I cough, trying to get a grip on myself.
You look lovely, Violet. You ready?
Is that for me? She gestures to the forgotten daisy in my right hand.
Ah, this, aye. I figure even pretend boyfriends should bring flowers—or in this case, one flower.
She takes it from me, spinning the stem in her hands.
Thanks Finn, she says, smiling a secret smile. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before, or even one flower. She looks up at me, beaming, but I feel like something in my chest has crumpled. But I don’t have any flowers for you, I feel bad.
It’s all right darling, I already have a Violet.
She smiles again and—what the fuck is going on here?
I assume she’ll leave the flower behind, but instead she tucks it behind her right ear, where several gold earrings are dangling. Should we go?
I’d go anywhere with you—what the fucking fuck Finn, that’s quite enough of that.
Aye, we should, I say, leading her to the car and opening her door.
So gentlemanly, she says, repeating her phrase from earlier today and I try not to notice the huge inflation in my chest. Calm down, you bloody fool.
Before I’ve even put on my seatbelt, Violet has taken over control of the music. The drive is so short I’m not sure we’ll get through a single song.
She rolls down the window, putting her hand out through the warm, blowing breeze. The sky is starting to turn pink and it’s a stunning evening. Too bad it’ll all go to shite at the lake house, with my mother’s constant fretting, Florence’s fury, and my brother’s uncertainty about how to handle either of those things.
As we pull into the driveway, it occurs to me that I should probably tell Violet about my conversation with Florence.
A warning, my lovely Violet, I start, pulling her from whatever daydream she was having out the window. She looks at me curiously. My god she is so lovely, it sends an acidic wave through my stomach. I swallow it down and try to think of a delicate way to share this.
Florence seems none too pleased with the idea of you and I together.
What makes you say that? She sounds tentative. I sigh.
She and I had… words about it.
Violet has turned fully to face me now, pulling her legs up onto the seat. Her bare, tanned legs. But her voice snaps me back to our conversation.
What did she say, exactly? There’s an iciness to her tone now. I don’t want to get Florence in shit, but it occurs to me that Violet might not like someone else meddling in her life—especially given what I know about her family.
She was warning me. She’s worried I’m going to treat this like a casual thing. I told her it was not like that, but I can only imagine what my brother said about me that had her react this way, I try to laugh the last bit off like it’s nothing. She’s only trying to protect you.
