Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Iris (04/17/25)
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TITLE: The Bloom Identity | Previous Challenge Entry
By Corinne Smelker
04/18/25 -
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Not because she disliked nature. Quite the opposite. She adored the outdoors. She just didn’t think she could survive life as Indigo Lake.
Her four sisters had narrowly escaped similar fates: Azure, Crystal, Misty, and Serene were mercifully replaced with Dahlia, Daisy, Lily, and Rose, thanks to their parents’ fascination with alphabetical order and botany.
“They were halfway to naming me Gladiolus,” Rose once confessed over brunch.
“I dodged Gladiolus and Gardenia,” Iris had replied. “They landed on ‘Iris’ because Mom said it sounded ‘hopeful but structured.’ Whatever that means.”
Now twenty-four and three towns away from her roots, Iris had built a peaceful life. She taught third grade, baked scones like a British grandma, and recently started attending a small church with excellent coffee and suspiciously upbeat ushers. It was there she met him.
Jake Bloom.
Tall, kind, patient. He once held the door open for an elderly woman, a toddler, and someone walking a turtle.
“I thought chivalry was dead,” Iris had told him.
He shrugged. “It’s just hibernating. Like bears.”
Six months later, Jake Bloom had become her boyfriend, her best friend, and—if her instincts were right—her possibly imminent fiancé.
Which was perfect. Except it wasn’t.
Because Iris Flower had realized one night, sitting in his truck and watching the rain bead on the windshield, that if she married him…she would become Iris Bloom.
She’d bloom. After being a flower. It was either the start of a bad children’s book or a punchline to her entire existence.
“Tell me I’m overthinking this,” she begged Rose over the phone one night.
“You’re overthinking this,” Rose said instantly. “But also… wow. That’s a name people will remember. You’ll sound like a walking Pinterest board.”
“I’ll sound like a walking cliché.”
Rose cackled. “Wait ‘til you have kids. People will expect you to name them Petal and Bud.”
“Oh no.”
Despite her inner turmoil, Iris couldn’t deny she loved Jake. He didn’t care that her apartment smelled like lavender or that she narrated her cat’s inner thoughts in a British accent.
And now, the clock was ticking. Jake had asked to have dinner with her parents.
Alone.
She knew what that meant. Every rom-com she'd ever watched was screaming it. And her dad had already texted her “??” that morning.
When she saw Jake later that week, she tried to play it cool. They were walking through a farmer’s market, sipping lemonade, surrounded by sunflowers.
Of course.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said carefully, eyeing a stand of homemade soaps named things like ‘Bloom & Blossom’ and ‘Floral Essence.’
“Dangerous hobby,” Jake said with a grin.
“If we got married,” she said, “I’d be Iris Bloom.”
He blinked. “I know. I think it’s beautiful.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of poetic, right? You’ve always been a Flower. Now you’d Bloom.”
Iris groaned. “See? That’s the problem. That sentence shouldn’t make sense!”
Jake laughed. “Okay, okay. If it really bothers you, you don’t have to change your name. Or we can hyphenate. Flower-Bloom. Or Bloom-Flower.”
“Bloom-Flower sounds like a fancy organic candle.”
“Exactly,” he said, nudging her. “We’d smell amazing.”
She narrowed her eyes, but she was already smiling. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“Oh, I am,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m just also picturing the wedding hashtag possibilities.”
She groaned again. “#FromFlowerToBloom?”
“Or #LetLoveBloom?”
“Jake!”
He grinned. “Iris… I don’t care what name you use. I love you. If you want to keep Flower, keep it. Change it, hyphenate it, invent an entirely new one. Become Iris Megathunder for all I care.”
She snorted.
“I just want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like.”
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she whispered, “Even if I name our firstborn Fern?”
“Especially if you name them Fern,” he said. “Or Gladiolus.”
They both burst out laughing.
And just like that, Iris decided that maybe, just maybe, being Iris Bloom wouldn’t be so bad after all.
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