In the Language of the Flowers

| 35 |

✾ Anemone ✾

I twisted my ring around my finger over and over, feeling the cool metal against my skin. 

"You look like you're going to throw up again," Beau said, nudging me with his elbow. 

I looked over at him. "Do I? I'm really trying to look calm right now." 

"You're not doing well at all," Beau said, shaking his head. He smiled a little. 

"Don't laugh at me," I said lightly. 

He shook his head again. "I didn't laugh. I'm not laughing." 

I smiled. "Yes, you are. I can't hear it but I can see it." 

"Ok, I'm laughing," he said, giggling and turning to me. "But seriously, you said this was no big deal. You're the one who told me that. If you keep this up, you'll make me nervous, too." 

I nodded. My desire to keep him calm overshadowed my anxiety. "I'm overreacting right now." 

"Probably," he said. "But she's your mom, so I can't tell you for sure." 

I took his hand. The wintery air clung to our clothes and exposed skin, determined to sap the heat from us. But his hand still felt warm. "She never said she was against it...back then. But she didn't stop my dad, either." 

Beau smiled as if he knew it would be enough to comfort me. It was. "Stop overthinking it," he said. "Also, you have some paint in your hair." 

"Oh god, where? Mom will complain about giving her frown lines if she sees it," I said, touching my hair. 

"Here," he said, reaching up. His face slipped into concentration mode as he tugged at the bit of paint. I smiled and leaned forward, stealing a kiss. 

He squeaked his surprise but quickly leaned into the kiss. When he stepped back, his tongue briefly peaked out between his lips, pushing at the corner of his mouth. "I got it," he said, blushing. 

I felt at ease. Beau and I were in a better place than we had been in a long time. I felt close to him again. "Thanks," I said as the elevator doors opened. "Aren't you nervous about this?" I asked him, stepping out. 

"Only because you're nervous," he said, his voice playful. "And besides, if she's anything like you are, I have nothing to worry about." 

I stopped walking just before the door. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know I sprung it on you." 

He shrugged. "I've been wanting to meet her, so I'm glad." 

I pressed the bell. Almost immediately, the door swung wide open. My mother revealed herself in all her splendor. She'd really gone above and beyond, probably trying to impress Beau. She was wearing a floor-length black gown with diamonds around her neck, the sort that are small enough to avoid gaudiness but large enough to communicate obvious wealth. To my surprise, she'd done her hair up in an elegant braid. I'd never seen her with her hair like that before. It made her look younger. 

"Oh," she exhaled, dramatically resting her fingertips lightly on her chest. "You're so precious." Before I could stop her, knowing that Beau was a bit slow to warm up to most strangers, she pulled him into a tight hug. Beau looked at me over my her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. I just shrugged. My mother was...a wonderful handful. 

When she finally let Beau go, she touched his face. Beau smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Amano." 

"Oh, call me Ai," she said. "Look at your beautiful face," she said. "I see why my son fell for you."