What He's Been Missing

Everything slowed down. Stopped moving. I just saw Xavier and the red fruit.

He held it up to my mouth and set it on my tongue slowly, locked in a stare.

“How does it taste, Ms. Winslow?” Leek asked, coming into our world with us.

“Like something in Eden,” I answered. “Perfect.”

“This is the Dendrobium spectabile,” Leek said, pointing to an orchid in the Orchid Display House that looked just as alien as it did beautiful. He turned to me. “It’s one of the most deliciously unique orchids that grows year round, here in the garden.”

“Lovely,” I said.

“Look at it closely.” Leek stepped back so Xavier and I could see. “It is an exotic flower that shows something different to every eye.”

We leaned in.

The Dendrobium spectabile was maroon and lily white in the center with yellow tails that looked like flames poking out around the edges.

“Tell me what you see,” Leek said. “Get in closer.”

Xavier and I leaned our heads from side to side.

“Hum,” we said together, then we started laughing. Maybe giggling. There was only one thing to see. A woman’s vulva.

“Whoa!” Xavier said. “It’s a pus—”

“You better not!” I laughed.

“Ahh,” Leek started. “I see the flower has shown you two the same thing. That’s a good sign.”

“There’s nothing else it could be,” Xavier said.

“I’ve heard many others,” Leek revealed.

“Like?” I asked.

“A dragon. A heartbeat. Curls of pasta.” Leek started walking to the next flower bed. “Funny how beautiful things in nature’s garden speak to us. Maybe what we see is more about who we are on the inside than what it is on the outside.”

Later that night at dinner, I finally got the nerve to ask Xavier what I’d been thinking about since he’d arrived in Atlanta: why was he so interested in me? And why now? He didn’t even blink before answering.

“You’re dope. Period. Everything about you.”

I’m sure I was blushing, but I pointed out that his compliments, kind as they were, didn’t fully answer the questions. “Ian told you I was in love with him. He’s one of your best friends. Doesn’t it break some kind of ‘man law’ to date me? Or is this just a sex thing?”

“You think I packed my bags to come down here for a sex thing?” He laughed.

I didn’t move.

He sobered up. Put down the drink he was holding and reached out for my hand. “I am not afraid of who you loved. I’m more interested in the fact that you loved. And, to be honest, how you loved—”

“You mean that I tried to break up his wedding? My best friend’s wedding!”

“Yeah, crazy,” he said, nodding. “But also honest. And courageous. That shit is such a turn-on.”

I recoiled.

“Calm down,” he said. “I don’t mean that in a sexual way. Rachel, most women today don’t really know how to love—not with their whole selves. They love because they want a ring. A husband. A nice house. Kids. Someone to go to church and sit up in a pew with. They love because they’re supposed to. Not because it’s urgent.”

“And you know about loving urgently? Mr. All About Me?”