Page 38 of Living for Truth
When we get inside the waiting area of the restaurant, it’s pretty cramped, so we all have to stand relatively close together. Morgan is squeezed flush against my back.
He leans down and whispers quietly so only I can hear, “You look absolutely stunning, Butterfly.”
“Thank you. You look pretty great yourself. And thank you so much for the flowers and the necklace. I love it.” It’s the first piece of jewelry I’ve been gifted that Iactuallylike. Even my engagement ring from Liam wasn’t my taste, but I didn't want to seem ungrateful.
“I knew at the shop it was meant to be yours. I’m just glad I finally had a sensible reason to give it to you.”
Before I can ask what he means by “sensible reason” the hostess is calling for our party and leading us to a table in the back of the restaurant.
We sit and the waitress takes our drink orders. Then my mom clears her throat, folds her hands in front of her, and to my horror, asks, “So, Morgan, why are you a single dad?”
Chapter 17
Morgan
Idon’t think anyone has ever asked me that question in such a direct way before, and it makes me want to laugh.
I glance over at Hannah, who is hiding her face behind her hands, and it makes me want to laugh even more because she’s probably embarrassed by her mom.
I came prepared for outlandish questions, though that’s not one I was expecting.
“Well,” I start, “I met Alyssa’s mom when I was still in the NFL. We were only casually seeing each other when she got pregnant, and she decided to keep the baby. I didn’t want my child growing up without a father, so I was as involved as I could be, and we even tried to make a romantic relationship work for a while. I tore my meniscus and had to retire early when Alyssa was three. By then, her mom decided she didn’t want to have full custody so we agreed to joint custody, but I’m the primaryparent.”
Shelly looks skeptical, but I have no reason to lie to her.
“Shame about your injury and early retirement. I think you could’ve won the Mustangs a Super Bowl title,” Mitch says, shaking his head like it’s some horrible tragedy instead of an unfortunate accident that ended up being the best thing for me and my daughter.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved football. I still love it, but having it be my life while raising a toddler washard.Aly took the top spot on my priority list the minute I heard her heartbeat at the first OB appointment. While I loved my time in the NFL, I’m glad to be done so I can focus on my girl.
“I think they’ll get there eventually.” I want to get the focus off of me and onto Hannah since it’s her big day, so I turn to her. “How are the preparations for the summer program?”
“They’re good. We were able to finalize our guest slots yesterday, and sign-ups have been overwhelming in the best way. We’re excited to—”
“What summer program?” Shelly cuts in.
“The library’s summer program.” Hannah lights up as she explains, “It’s really cool, actually. We have different people coming in each day to talk about their jobs and businesses, as well as doing activities with people. We have National Park rangers coming, a marine biologist, entomologist, and—”
“That just sounds like career day at an elementary school.” Shelly frowns.
Before Hannah can speak up and explain that it’s not at all like career day, our waitress comes to take our orders. Once those are placed, there's silence at thetable. Hannah’s mom gave her a scathing look when Hannah ordered pasta, even though Shelly “helpfully” suggested one of the salads instead.
I wonder if this is how it always is for Hannah, and if it is, my heart aches for my sweet Butterfly. I can’t imagine Shelly was the most comforting maternal figure in the midst of the divorce.
“How does a former NFL wide receiver become a florist?” Jake asks from across the table. It sounds genuine, which I’m grateful for.
“I used to work at a flower shop during the football off-season in high school so I could earn extra cash in case I didn’t get a football scholarship. The owner of the shop, Miss Agatha, was a quiet woman who barely spoke, but when she did, she was full of wise words. She told me she didn’t need to speak as much in the flower shop because flowers had their own language. I thought she was a little crazy at first, but she gave me a book published in 1960 that explained how every flower had a different meaning.
“For some reason, it fascinated me, and I decided if I didn’t get to play professional football, I’d want to open up my own flower shop so I could teach other people about the language of flowers. When I retired, I knew it was what I wanted to do. Luckily for me, the previous owner of the shop I now own was looking to sell, so I jumped on the opportunity.” That was a long answer to such a small question.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. So if I wanted to tell a girl I liked her, what kind of flowers would I give her?” Jake asks, and Shelly shoots an exasperated look his way.
“Well, it depends. If you want to just tell her you think she’s pretty, you could go with gardenias or yellow tulips. If you’re in love with her and want her to know, go with yellow daffodils, red chrysanthemums, or asters. Wisteria means ‘will you dance with me?’ so that would be a good one, too.” I watch as Hannah’s eyes dart to the bouquet I gifted her.
Did I purposefully leave out red carnations, sunflowers, and purple limonium? Absolutely. I can’t give away all my secrets.
Jake takes out his phone and jots down the ones I suggested, and Shelly gives me a look so scorching I’m surprised I don’t burst into flames.
“Who on earth would you be buying flowers for? Your focus should be on your mission. Not a girl,” Shelly scolds Jake, and the tips of his ears turn pink.
