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“He loves me… He loves me…”
“Lots,” I tell her, putting my hand over hers and gazing intently into her eyes until she forgets all about the flowers.
“He loves youlots,” I remind her in a gentler tone, leaning over to kiss her.
And he always will.
Forever and ever.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
Jasmine
Iris’ recovery was miraculous once she saw James and me together that morning when we visited her in the hospital. Even the doctors said by the way she practically leapt out of the bed, hugging James and me until we couldn’t breathe, it was as though her heart was instantly healed. It’s like seeing me so happy was all she needed to forgive herself for thinking James was anything but madly in love with me.
She still brings me my morning coffee, and I still have flowers set aside for her coffee shop. Not the unsold flowers from the day before, though—there never are any. No, it isn’t James doing his thing where he gets people to buy them because he pays them to.
Business is booming and having Laura here most days means I can keep James happy and still get my hands dirty in other ways—with flowers. Something I’ll always love doing, but there’s really no contest when it comes to James. He wants me to have whatever makes me happy and running the store part time now makes me happier than ever.
This morning, Iris is carrying the coffee in one hand with a little paper sack pinched between her fingers and a stool from her shop in the other. My instinct is to rush and help her, but she playfully scolds me, looking me up and down before moving behind the counter and setting the stool down.
“I… brought you… a… stool,” she puffs, waving off my concern and rallying herself before scanning me again.
I open my mouth to tell her she didn’t have to. If I need something to sit on, there are plenty of crates, but I don’t come to work to sit on my ass all day.
“Girl, in your condition, you should be sitting down more… and eating more,” she adds, passing me the paper sack.
“Eat,” she commands me, and I already know it’s one of her giant chocolate muffins, the kind she always sells out of as soon as they’re out of the oven. I’m not going to argue with her, and taking a seat, I devour the baked treat, groaning with pleasure that isn’t just for show, either.
Iris’ food is always the best, and this morning, more than ever.
“What do you mean by a ‘girl in my condition?’” I finally ask, licking my gooey fingers and taking a sip of coffee.
Iris shakes her head and gives me a sidelong look.
“Have you told him yet?” she asks me in an almost accusing tone, making the pit of my stomach jolt.
“No, not yet. Hey? How did you know?” I ask her, catching myself and wondering if maybe I did tell Iris.
About the baby.
I have been pretty absent-minded lately.
If it’s so obvious to Iris, how obvious is it to James? He hasn’t said anything. Just tells me to keep eating and stop whining about the few pounds I’ve put on.
He still tells me I’m a ways off from being what he considers a healthy weight for a girl of my height, as he likes to put it. When I stand next to him or lie on top of him, I kinda have to agree. Next to him, I feel tiny, even at three months.
“Just when were you going to tell me?” Iris adds with a feigned offense, breaking into a warm smile instead and hugging me.
“I’m so proud of you, Jaz. So happy, too. You’ve made me the happiest old lady in the world this past year. And now a baby!” she exclaims.
“But… how did you know?” I ask. I have to ask.
Iris creases her brow. “You kidding me?” she shrieks.
“A man like that asks you to move in with him,andthe fact you can’t even walk straight most days, Jasmine. Jeez, I may be old, but I’m not stupid!” she says loudly, slapping her thigh and laughing until she chokes.
