“Oh?”
“No. It was supposed to say ‘Thank you for giving me the—'”
“‘—the most wonderful year of my life.’ I remember that. I took the order. He sounded so happy…” He glanced down at the card, then closed his eyes. “How much harm was done?”
“How much do you think?”
“Dad, I finished that last arrangement. Can I go now?” A girl who looked about sixteen or seventeen came from the back of the shop. There was a whine in her voice and a petulant droop to her lips. She looked from her father to me and scowled. “I’ve got stuff to do. If he wants an arrangement…”
“No, this gentleman has a complaint. The wrong card was placed in an order of roses.”
“So what’s the big deal?”
Leaving her question unanswered, he turned back to face me. “Is there anything I can do for your friend to make up for this mistake?”
“Well, the vase needs replacing.”
“Oh?” He nodded wearily. “Oh, yes, I can imagine. She must have been furious.”
“She?”
“Your friend’s lady friend.”
“Ah. You could say that. Tore the roses to shreds, threw the vase against a wall, broke up with him then and there without waiting for an explanation.”
The girl turned pale. “Daddy…”
“Mr. Garofano, I made the last delivery. Jen, you about ready to go?” The young man who’d delivered the roses to me came into the shop. He took in the tableau. “‘Sup?”
“This isn’t your concern, Woody. Leave the keys to the van in my office and go.”
“Okay. Jen—”
“Will not be going out this evening. Go on home.”
Woody scowled, shot a look at the girl, but did as his boss ordered him.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened.”
I shrugged. He was going to be even sorrier. “You’re fortunate I talked my friend out of coming here to confront you himself. To say he was unhappy about this whole thing is an understatement. However, as they say, all’s well that ends well. He’s going to get married.”
“I’m relieved no lasting damage was done to the relationship.”
“Yes. A tasteful little ceremony, and while the wedding party won’t be large, the reception will. Corsages will need to be supplied to all the ladies, boutonnières to the gentlemen, floral arrangements for the tables at the reception. Etcetera, etcetera.”
He met my eyes. “I assume Carnations and Roses and Orchids, Oh My won’t be getting the job. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Daddy?”
“I’ll talk to you later, Jennifer. Thank you for taking the time to inform me of this mix-up. Please assure your friend of my profound regrets, and if he ever decides to give us a try again, I will personally guarantee there are no problems. I’ll see his credit card gets a refund, and if you’ll wait one second, I’ll get that vase for you.”
“Daddy?” She gave me a scared glance, all trace of ill-temper gone, and hurried after her father. I wondered if she knew something about the wrong card winding up in my roses.
* * * *
Wills was home when I got back. He was in his shirt sleeves, and I stared from him to the clock, my stomach in knots. “What’s wrong? That tape?”
“No. That’s taken care of.”
“Why are you home so early? That didn’t come out right. Of course I’m happy to see you but—”
“There’s something I want to talk to you about, though.”
My mouth went dry. “Wh-what?”
“How would you feel about becoming a dad?”
My jaw dropped, and all I could do was stare at him. “You’re not telling me you’re pregnant! Well, you can’t be. We only stopped using condoms the other day!”
“Ass. Plus, there’s the fact that I’m a guy, if it hasn’t escaped your notice.” He curled his arm around my neck, tugged me against him, and murmured against my lips, “I want us to have a baby.”
“Us?” I remembered that moment in the kitchen in Cambridge, when I’d told Jack Matheson that if his son and I wanted a family, we could have one either through adoption or surrogacy. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, babe.” He stared into my eyes, and a furrow appeared between his brows. “Theo…Don’t you want children?”
“I never…I never thought…” I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. “You really want a baby with me?”
“We’re getting married, yes? Then it follows that babies will come after. So what do you say?”
“Yes. Oh God, yes!”
He tipped my chin up, licked his lips, and then brushed them, warm and soft, back and forth against mine. “Come on to bed, babe.”
* * * *
Afterward, we lay wrapped in each other’s arms. “How will we do this?” I asked.
“Not a clue, babe.” There was a smile in his voice. “But I’m a computer geek. I’ll find out.”
“Wills, what’s Vince going to say about this?”
“He was the one who suggested I talk to you about children.”
“Vince did?”