“I may be a mom,” said Mandy, cutting into her thoughts. “But I still have eyes. And that guy is—”
“A living god?” Orchid answered.
“Exactly, so you gotta decide: you want a mere mortal, or are you ready to level up?”
Orchid burbled a laugh. “You sound more boy hungry than you were in college… which is saying a lot.”
“You know that I’m on your side. If you wanna say hasta la vista, I’m behind you. But I wouldn’t blame you if you went batty every time you’re with him.”
Orchid leaned back. “Actually? I do have feelings.”
“Boom!” Mandy sounded victorious.
“I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’ll ask my questions, and then I’m afraid it’s goodbye for good.”
“Oh that’s kinda sad.”
“Thanks for making me question my sanity.”
“All I know is you better call me from China. I already miss you, hon!” Mandy said.
“We can still talk or text from China,” Orchid assured her friend.
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
Orchid waltzed in a fog up to her apartment, propelled by a new dilemma. She placed the flowers on her little breakfast table, but decided on the coffee table. The peonies matched her décor. Her mind and heart battled.
After she changed out of her work clothes, she texted Phoenix. It was best to meet at the coffee shop near their offices. It seemed like a smart, neutral choice. He agreed.
The moment she arrived at the coffee shop, she realized her mistake. Nostalgia overcame her as she crossed the threshold.
Phoenix stood up and took a step towards her. And then, as if thinking better of it, awaited her approach. Her drink steamed beside his espresso.
He pulled out her chair and then sat down.
“You’re early,” she accused.
He opened his mouth, and she held her breath for his snarky comeback. Instead, he pressed his lips together.
“Sorry,” he said, in his low rumble. He looked sad, a faint shadow of unshaved scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw.
She recalled his ravenous appetite that evening at the agency, him spooning vegan eggplant into his mouth and wrinkling his nose at the concept of nutritional yeast.
She spoke, but only to blot out her true emotions. “How was REBBL?” The way he looked at her made her wonder. He’d just flown across the country. He’d met her as requested. And she was asking him about work?
He answered gamely. “I think it went well. The client liked your sustainability suggestions.”
She nodded and sipped her beverage. “Caramel macchiato?” she asked.
“Frappuccino. Same as the first time we met here. Same table, too. And I brought something else.” He pointed at the manila envelope next to his drink and then, before she could ask, said, “It’s my father’s letter. With his last wishes. You’re welcome to read it. Or not. I’ll answer anything you want. You deserve complete honesty. Even if this is the last time we see each other. Which is completely up to you.” She noted how his sadness deepened, the creases beside his mouth, his cheeks unable to lift. He hadn’t smiled since she’d arrived. His somber attitude conveyed farewell. For a moment, relief relaxed her shoulders. Then she pictured leaving this place, never to see Phoenix again, and she began to miss him. She needed to regain control, of her emotions, and of this meeting. “I want to know if you swayed Joan to give me this assignment,” she began, naming her first fear.
“She doesn’t even know that I know you. That is, outside the one presentation at your office,” he stated.
Orchid looked at the cover note and read a portion of it aloud. “To be read six monthsafter my death.It really must’ve meant something to him, that he wrote this down.”
He unsealed the envelope and handed it to her. “It must’ve.”
