A Lowcountry Bride Read online

Page 15


  “I’m Kendra, remember me?” Her mouth curled into a smile, accentuating a fleshy dimple.

  He quickly ran through his mental Rolodex, but nothing.

  “I visited your shop with my sister a while ago. She was getting married and looking for a gown.” She laughed. “You looked so funny trying to sell to those finicky ladies. Thank you again for helping my sister get a discount on her gown. It meant a lot to us, seeing that her wedding budget was tight.”

  He would’ve spoken longer about her experience in the shop, but he needed to know if Maya had arrived. “Glad to have been of help.” Derek quickly scanned the restaurant. “I’m looking for my date. She’s about five foot five, curly dark hair.”

  “I haven’t seen her yet, but I wanted to repay you for being so kind to my sister. So I reserved a secluded table overlooking downtown Charleston.” She held up two fingers. “A table for two. Dos in Spanish. Deux in French. Duo in Latin. And dio in Greek.”

  A secluded table for two? Derek would’ve preferred something with the restaurant crowd. No need to alienate Maya on their first date. “Do you have anything on the main floor?”

  The waitress tapped her chin. “No, we don’t. The spaces are taken. But no worries. It’s a really great spot. Follow me.” She motioned to the upstairs area.

  Derek clambered up a black wrought-iron staircase. When he arrived, he surveyed the space. No one was there. One table was centered in the middle of the dimmed space, covered with a white linen cloth and littered with pink and white rose petals.

  “I put down the rose petals for extra oompf. You like?” Kendra arched her brow.

  Those rose petals could push Maya away too. She could think he was laying it on thick. “They’re . . . interesting.”

  “Oh, well then. Sorry. Just trying to repay a favor.” She scooped some of the rose petals into her hand, but there was still a smattering of them left on the table. “I’ll be on the lookout for your date.” Kendra filled two water glasses and left.

  He appreciated Kendra’s intentions, but Maya’s reaction to all this mattered more.

  A staccato click-clacking bounced off the hardwood floors. He straightened and glanced up. Maya. The petite vision waited at the top of the staircase. Her silver-toned dress hugged every inch of her frame. His pulse went into overdrive. Derek gulped down half of his water. She headed over.

  “Hi, Maya.” The croak in his voice undercut his attempts to sound laid-back.

  “Hey.” She sat down and scanned the table littered with the leftover rose petals. “This looks . . . great.”

  She didn’t like it. “Great.”

  A silence ensued. The roses were way too much. This date was gonna be way uncomfortable.

  “Hey, so I was thinking. I know I made the reservation, but now that we’re here, I’m not really digging this restaurant’s vibe.”

  “Me neither,” Maya said.

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.” She shrugged. “Too fancy for me. Would you like to visit the botanical garden?” she asked. “It’s only three blocks away and it’s definitely not as . . . formal.”

  Relief washed over him. “Excellent.”

  “From what I remember, they have a beautiful display of calla lilies this time of year. And I’m not that hungry anyway.”

  “Me neither. I’ll let the waitress know about our change in plans,” Derek said.

  After doing so, Derek and Maya headed toward the front entrance of the restaurant.

  This was a good change. Being in a place of Maya’s choosing was the best idea anyway, and Derek looked forward to getting to know her more.

  The brilliant amber sun started its gradual descent, marking the end of another day. At the botanical garden, an expanse of tulips stretched out before Maya, a brilliant display of reds and yellows and whites. A robin flew fifty or so feet above them and settled onto a branch of a violet crepe myrtle.

  Maya would tell him all about herself today. She was glad that she wouldn’t have to tell him in the restaurant. The vibe made her anxious. Being in nature was much better. She stood closer to him and inhaled the scent of his cologne. Maya was comfortable in his presence. Then, before she knew it, her fingertips touched his.

  Derek glanced over at her and smiled. She returned the gesture, and their fingers inched their way around one another. A steady hum of electricity simmered between them, and Maya relaxed into his touch. Comfort thrummed through her. This was nice.

  Maya was surprised when Derek said they should ditch the restaurant. She’d been feeling nervous about going on a formal date. Being here at the gardens was much more chill and casual. It’d be easier to get to know him here than at a stuffy, fancy restaurant. And that’s what she wanted to do—know him better but also keep a friendly distance. This was just a date, not a commitment.

  “Tell me more about growing up,” she asked.

  “Things were tough, especially after my father left. Gave my mother more grief than I could bear.”

  “I can’t imagine you giving your mother any grief. You’re so ambitious and focused.” Maya’s eyes met his, and he held her gaze.

  “You’re talking to Derek the adult. Not Derek the wannabe independent youngster. Jamila reminds me of myself at her age, but she’s changing.” Derek smiled. “That’s a good sign. I give all the credit to you. Thank you so much for helping her with the school project, even though Jamila refused your help at first.”

  “Not a problem.” She paused, weighing whether this was the right time to say something. Her concerns about Jamila held the same weight as her concerns about telling Derek. “Have you ever talked to her about how she feels losing her mother and her grandmother?”

  Derek flicked a glance at her, his expression neutral. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  No answer. All righty then.

  They reached a graveled path lined with cherry blossoms. The more they walked together, the more that moment’s unsettledness faded. They squinted at the last shred of light peeking behind cotton-fluff clouds.

  Maya stood there for a stretch of time, enjoying the sight, still holding Derek’s hand. With her free hand, she grabbed her smartphone and took photos of the cherry blossoms. Those would make a gorgeous accent to Jamila’s dress project for school.

  The breeze picked up, and she shivered. Maya had completely forgotten to bring her jacket. Derek eyed her, and she forced herself not to look so cold, but it was to no success.

  “Is the wind bothering you?” he asked.

  She glanced at his chiseled features. Very handsome. And way too inviting. “No.” Maya combed her hair away from her face.

  “Let me know if you’re too cold.”

  “Okay, I’m a little cold.”

  “This will keep you warm.” He handed her his bomber jacket.

  Maya couldn’t help but inhale the scent of aftershave lingering on the soft leather as she slipped it on. The jacket warmed her to the core. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax into the material. It would get dark soon. She hoped to show him around before night set in.

  A sign for the Enchanted Forest stood out among the flora. They stepped inside the entrance and stood near a bonsai. The Enchanted Forest had been one of her favorite places to visit. It flourished with crepe myrtles and oak trees and Japanese bonsai. A young couple sat on a nearby bench, holding hands.

  “Maya?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is it okay if I pull you close?”

  She tried to speak, but her vocal cords didn’t seem to be working properly. Pull her close? His smile enticed her, and the promise she had made to keep a friendly distance faded. “That’s fine.”

  He embraced her, and they were face-to-face. Being so near to Derek melted away those promises and broke her resolve. With a silent surrender, she leaned into him, her cheek resting against his shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her waist. He was warm and cozy and solid. She settled more fully in
his embrace.

  “Is this okay for you?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She drew in a deep breath, locked into his cocoon, unwilling to let go.

  “Good.”

  Dapples of light streaked through the tall oak trees. In front of her, the water in a small pond lapped up onto the walking path. The breeze skimmed its blue-gray surface, causing it to ripple.

  She tried to dredge up her last remnants of reasons not to get too close to Derek. His embrace erased all her excuses. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and looked into her eyes. Her stomach spiraled. A good spiral. The kind of spiral that dissolved all proper reason and good sense.

  “You were right,” he said, his voice a whisper. “The garden is beautiful.”

  “It used to be my little escape from the real world.”

  “Peaceful place to be.” He rested his chin atop her head.

  An old memory flashed in her mind. “I came here a lot when I was young. With my locked diary in hand, I’d run straight to this forest and find an empty bench. I wrote in my journal here. The yearnings of my heart.”

  Derek pulled away. “That’s precious.”

  “I haven’t opened a journal in a long time.” She looked out at the dark shadows cast across the pond.

  “Really?” His voice tinged with what sounded like empathy.

  “I didn’t see the point.”

  Another gust of wind whipped a tree into a frenzy. Stray leaves flew from the branches, recklessly swirling about. In many ways, that’s what Maya became after her mother died. Frenzied. Lost. Aimless.

  “You want to talk about it?” Derek cupped her chin in his hand.

  Did she? Was she ready to share the not-so-pretty side of her life? Maya wasn’t sure.

  Derek would probably stop time to listen to the quiet murmurings of her heart. He patiently waited for her response—or her nonresponse. Either way, she sensed he wouldn’t push the issue.

  He smiled.

  Another strong wind gusted. Standing with Derek in the garden, the place where she had written her hopes and dreams, made all that time spent writing somehow feel complete. The need to shed light on her silent wounds surfaced. “I stopped coming here after my mother died. I didn’t want to sit here with a notebook in hand and explore my feelings about her passing.” She tried to sound casual while recounting the memory. “It was too tough.”

  Derek brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “I understand that feeling.”

  Grief jabbed its one-two punch. Weakened, she still forced herself to speak. “I know you do.” A tear formed at the corner of her eye, and she blinked. “It must be so hard to have lost your mother and your wife.”

  “It is.” Derek’s thumb brushed the tender area at the nape of her neck.

  The tear sprung to the surface. Cruddy tears. She wiped it away. “People always tell me it will get easier, but it never does. How have you coped all these years?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured that one out,” Derek said.

  If he hadn’t figured out a way to cope, then how would he react when she told him about her sickle cell? “We all have our way of dealing with grief.”

  “Yes.” His voice stretched to the edge of shredding.

  The tree branches rustled louder now, fighting against the wind threatening to break them. Maya buried herself deeper into the warmth of his chest. Despite her doubts, she loved being with him.

  She riffled through the memories, the conversations. “I haven’t been on a date in the longest time. I never imagined myself dating again, to be quite honest.”

  Confusion flit across his face for a split second, then he stepped away. Stripped of his embrace, a chill coursed through her, despite the warmth of his leather jacket. As she stood there, her shoulders hunched, her jaw rattling, she felt how hard it would be to tell him. But she would.

  “I’ve thought the same about myself. I’m glad you took this step with me today. You’ve been so wonderful with Jamila, especially when you don’t have to be. We haven’t had this kind of presence in our lives since Grace, my late wife.”

  Since Grace? He’s now likening me to his deceased wife? Oh my. If they continued on this path, he would meet the same fate with Maya. “I need to tell you something.”

  He nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “I have sickle cell anemia, Derek. When I first received the diagnosis, the doctor said my life span would be ten to fifteen years from now. I’m dying.”

  There. She said it.

  His expression shuttered. That wasn’t good. “You’re dying?”

  The doubt in his voice made her cringe inside. O-kay. Maybe she should have eased into it. “That’s correct.”

  Still nothing.

  “Is that what those pills were for on that day I walked in on you in the break room?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t appear happy with this new information, and it wasn’t like she expected him to be. But she’d expected something . . . empathy at least. Why did she think going on a date with him would be a good idea? Why did she say yes?

  “Look,” Maya said, desperate to fill in the quiet between them. “I know this isn’t the best news to hear, especially given that you’ve already lost so much. Maybe I should’ve told you earlier about my condition. I don’t know. I didn’t say anything about it because . . .” Her breath hitched on something she didn’t want to express.

  “Because what?”

  “I was worried that you were going to fire me.”

  “Fire you?”

  “Yes.” She looked down, and her eyes blurred with tears.

  “You’re a talented dress designer, Maya. And you’ve turned the store around in ways that I could’ve never done. There’s no way that I’d fire you over something you can’t control.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Then what about . . .” Her voice broke again.

  “What about what?”

  Maya turned away. The chilly breeze picked up, bullying away her sense of calm. The pond water rippled again, echoing the cracking wind. As it did, birds flew away in droves. Across the pond, leaves floated to the gravelly ground, their tiny veins ripped from the tree, their life source. A part of Maya ripped too. She spotted a bench off to the side and trudged toward it. A gust sent specks of dust flying in her eyes, blocking her vision. Blurred. Just like her attempts to connect with Derek. She shouldn’t have agreed to this date. She sat down on the bench.

  Moments later, Derek sat next to her.

  “We’re on this date now, and you’ve already lost so much. I should’ve told you that I . . . was dying before I agreed to this . . . this outing. I don’t know. I just feel like this isn’t fair to you. Maybe I’m in over my head.”

  “I won’t lie, Maya. Your news is a lot for me to take in.” He pressed his left knuckle into the corner of his eye and rubbed it vigorously. “A whole lot.”

  Expected. “Then I should go home. You’re right. I apologize for even thinking that—”

  “I still want to be here with you, Maya. Regardless of your illness.”

  “But I—”

  “I’ve been thinking about Grace a lot. Thinking about what she would’ve wanted for my life, for Jamila’s life, now that she’s gone.” Derek exhaled. “The truth is that we’re all dying, Maya. It’s not the dying that matters. It’s the living.”

  “The living?”

  “Yes. The living. You’ve helped me see that it’s okay to pursue happiness, despite the grief and loss. You’ve helped me see that it’s okay to renovate and remodel, not just the boutique, but my life. I don’t have to feel stuck in the past and trapped in grief. Instead, I can bring the past with me and use it to craft a beautiful present and a hopeful future.”

  She did all of that?

  “I don’t want to squander those lessons, and I won’t squander the one who showed them to me either,” Derek continued. “Not for any reason. Not because of your diagnosis.
Not because of anything. Grace died suddenly and tragically. I never got a chance to say goodbye to her. But even if I knew how her life would end in advance, I still wouldn’t trade my time with her for anything either.”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “No. Never in a million years.” He gently squeezed her hand. “You deserve happiness too, in your work and in your relationships.”

  His words chipped away at the lies she had believed. Still, an iceberg of hurt lodged in her heart. An iceberg that would never melt away. “My ex-fiancé left me over my diagnosis. He didn’t express any misgivings when I first told him about my sickle cell anemia, but his true feelings came out eventually. He wasn’t ready to spend the rest of his life with me. He was never honest with himself and me at the beginning of our relationship. He decided to cut his losses on our wedding day, the day when I was already fully committed. That day was a huge disaster.” Her eyes blurred once again. “Maybe I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re a treasure.”

  “A treasure—that’s my consolation prize, I guess.”

  Derek cupped his gentle hands around the curve of her neck. “You can’t blame yourself. That man didn’t deserve you. If he did, he would’ve never left.” He sat closer to Maya, millimeters from her lips.

  The iceberg melted and warmth settled into her marrow, rooting her, steadying her, filling her. Why not get involved with Derek? Being in the garden with him completed her lifelong search for—

  Derek leaned closer. His exhale danced across her cheek and tickled the tip of her ear. Maya’s belly flipped.

  “Can I kiss you, Maya?”

  “Yes.” She fell into him. His lips caressed hers. Maya returned his generous kiss. Longing sparked inside of her.

  Maya exhaled and wrapped her arms around Derek. She could stay in that embrace, close to him. For the first time in a long time, she let go.