Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

Prior to my move to Portland three years ago, the last time I was this intoxicated was my freshman year of college. Since the move back to Cambridge, I can’t even count how many times I’ve felt like I do right now.

“Welcome back.”

I try to peel open my eyes. It feels like sandpaper against my pupils. “Blinds.”

“Nope, they stay open, dear.”

“Mom?” I sit up and rub my temples.

She hands me a glass of water. “I should be upset that you’ve been binge drinking for the past two days, but had you been in your right and stubborn mind you might not have told me where you were staying.”

“You called?” I take a sip of water. Jeez, my mouth tastes like shit.

“Thirty-two times. The thirty-first time you finally answered and told me your room number. The thirty-second time you told me the name of the hotel in exchange for me, and I quote ‘fucking off’.”

I cringe.

“Of course there’s more than one Hilton here in Portland, so after several misses and weird looks when knocking on the right door at the wrong hotel, I finally found you. Lucky for me I knocked on your door a whole five minutes before you passed out. Otherwise I would have been calling the authorities with reason to believe my son was in danger of injuring himself.”

“Why are you here?” I finally make eye contact.

“Because I’m afraid you’re going to hurt yourself.” She folds her hands in her lap.

“God, I’m not suicidal.” I shake my head.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” She stands and walks over to the bed and brushes her fingers through my hair. “You’re going to lose another person in your life that you dearly love. And it’s going to wreck you beyond repair if you don’t figure this out soon. I’ve given you three years to work through this and you haven’t. I wanted you back home with us but not because you were running away, Oliver. It should have been because you were moving on.”

“I can’t … I don’t know what to do.” Even though she’s my mom, I hate that these stupid tears sting my eyes and she’s here to witness me like this.

“Yes, you do.”

“She killed my baby.” I suck in a shaky breath but can’t hold it, not anymore. A sob cuts through me and she pulls me into her like she did when I was a little boy. That’s what I feel like, a lost child.

“She killed her baby too because she was sick, Oliver, so sick. Caroline couldn’t see Melanie. Her mind wouldn’t let her see anything but the pain. She was putting an end to the pain.”

“Oh … God! It hurts so bad.” I sob with excruciating pain seizing every part of my body.

“I know it does, sweetie, I know …” She rocks me in her arms and so many thoughts and emotions that I’ve never allowed myself to think and feel crash into my heart like a wrecking ball.

* * *

I met Caroline Sue Welch at the campus bookstore. She was working behind the counter and I was immediately drawn to her curly blond hair and rich hazel eyes. I was three people back in line and she kept peeking up at me while trying to help other customers. She was innocent and flirty. I was young and horny. When it was my turn in line, she gave me her address and phone number, in case I had any questions about The Story of My Life by Clarence Darrow, the book I was purchasing. A week later I called her up and asked her to dinner. Over margaritas and guacamole in a loud Mexican restaurant, I found out she had never read The Story of My Life by Clarence Darrow.

I have a million wonderful memories of Caroline. Everyone loved her, including me. But she’s gone and I don’t know where she went or what took her from me. The woman before me is a stranger—a stranger in my Caroline’s body. I wonder when I lost her or if she tried to tell me. Did I not see the signs? Did I not hear her fading voice?

“What do you want, Oliver?” Her hazel eyes are the only part of her body that reminds me of that day in the book store. She’s twenty-seven but her malnourished body looks thirty years older.

“I’m sorry.”

She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

I fight past the three years of emotion that have been stuck in my chest, climbing up my throat, and threatening to steal my breath.

“I didn’t know … I didn’t see it. The doctors said it was common, but I should have seen it. A man should know when his wife is slipping away. I worked too many hours. I wasn’t there enough.” I swipe away a stray tear.

She looks away, a million miles out the window with an expressionless face. I’m not sure she even hears me. Maybe she never will. I start to stand. This feels like a waste of time. My Caroline’s gone.

I walk to the door and it hits me. This is the last time I will ever see Caroline. I turn. She’s still looking out the window.

“Caroline?”

She turns.

I feel my lower lip start to tremble as I blink back the tears. “I forgive you.”

Those familiar hazel eyes fill with tears, but I walk away before they fall.

* * *

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to convey the gratitude I have for my mom. Only now, as we wait to board our plane to Boston, does the impact of her love over the past three years really resonate with me. She’s a fixer, as a mom and a psychiatrist, yet she stepped aside and let me fall apart over the last three years. Maybe she knew that’s what I needed, maybe she didn’t. Either way, it had to have taken an incredible amount of strength and love to watch in silence.

“How can you be so quiet?” I ask, sitting next to her in the terminal.

She reaches over and takes my hand. “There’s nothing left to say. I’m in awe of your courage. You made peace with Caroline and you said a proper goodbye to Melanie. Oliver, my dear, you came to Portland a victim and you’re leaving a survivor.” She squeezes my hand and smiles.

“Do you think I’m the first person to leave a pillow by a headstone?”

She laughs. “Maybe.”

“You know a raccoon or something is going to take off with it.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “The birds and squirrels take off with the flowers.”

I nod. “How’d you know to bring it?”

“You chose to give it to me instead of throwing it away, so I knew that meant you trusted me to know what to do with it. Honestly, I didn’t know what that was until Vivian came back from Portland.”

I stare at her for a moment then sigh. “This is so inadequate but right now it’s all I can think to say, so … thank you.”

My mom smiles as her eyes tear up. “You’re welcome.” She dabs the corners and sighs. “Isn’t it amazing that the Weeping Cherry tree near her grave finally bloomed this past spring?”

I smile thinking about Vivian and the scattering of cherry blossom buds inked on her back. “Yes, some things are just … amazing.”

After we board the plane and take off, I feel … free. My mind relaxes on my favorite thought … Vivian. I was cruel to her, and my actions were abhorrent and by all rights, unforgivable. And if she’s still waiting for me it will be a miracle, but that’s what she is to me … a miracle.

Vivian

The forecast was for snow, but Alex called in a favor with the big guy and agreed to apologize for all her Bridezilla outbursts if he granted her a day of sun. Wish granted. The ceremony at the church was perfect. Alex looked like a princess that walked straight out of a Disney fairy tale and Sean won me over when he cried during his vows.

Everyone gathers outside of the church on this sunny but very chilly December day to toss rose petals at the happy couple. They drive off in a Rolls Royce and the wedding party crowds into a stretch limo.

“You look amazing,” Kai says as we’re wedged so close I’m half sitting on his lap.

“Thank you,” I mumble without looking at him.

“Kai, you look devastatingly handsome in that tailored suit and tie.” Kai mocks in a high-pitched voice.

I don’t want to smile because I’m exhausted from faking my emotions over the past two days, but his comment elicits an involuntary one.

“What’s that? An actual smile … wow! Does this mean we can call a truce, a ceasefire for the evening?”

“I think we’ve had a ceasefire since rehearsal dinner last night. Otherwise you’d be dead.”

One of the other groomsmen pours and passes around champagne. Kai hands me a glass. “Go easy, Viv. I’d hate to have to take advantage of you later in your inebriated state.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’m just kidding. You used to be able to take a joke.”

“You used to be my friend.”

“Ouch.”

Ouch is right. I would never have imagined that Kai and I would not be in each other’s lives. My mistake was falling in love with him. His mistake was not letting me go. Now it feels like we’ve been ripped apart by circumstances and the wounds are too jagged and raw to ever heal and be the same again. That seems to be what’s happened with us over the past two years, physically and emotionally.

“Well, old friend, would you mind getting off my lap?” Kai says with a snarky edge as the driver opens the back door.

I gather the long skirt of my strapless metallic gold lace dress and ease my way out of the limo. The icy December breeze cuts into my bare skin as I try to keep my wrap over my shoulders. We enter the State Room and take the elevator to the most spectacular view of Boston’s skyline. A massive window wall is the backdrop to large round tables adorned with white linens, brilliant rose topiary center pieces, and twinkling candles—all covering a mahogany floor. I can’t even fathom the dollar figure behind this wedding.

“Shall we?” Kai offers his arm as we make our way to the head table.

I take it, and we follow the rest of the wedding party. There must be five hundred or more people here. I don’t think I know one percent of them. I’m definitely going to need more than the glass of champagne from the limo to stand up in front of all these strangers to give my toast.

Alex and Sean are introduced and the crowd claps and whistles as they enter the Great Room. The band begins to play while dinner is served. I’m starving but my nerves cripple my ability to eat. I look out at the sea of people hoping to find a familiar face, a go-to during my speech.

Nothing.

Maybe I’ll just look at Alex … that’s not good either. I promised her no tears, but that will never work if I’m looking at her the whole time. I wish Oliver were here. He soothes all my nerves and with just one look he gives me confidence. Missing Oliver is hard, but not knowing if or when I’ll see him again is like a slow death. The temptation to call him has been overwhelming the past several days, but I can’t. He’ll come to me when he’s ready.

God … I hope that day comes.

I didn’t write down my speech and as my turn approaches I’m starting to regret it.

“Next, we’ll hear from the maid of honor, Vivian Graham.”

I stand as I’m handed the microphone. Yep, I might pass out, definitely not enough alcohol.

“Hello.” The crowd falls silent. “A month or so ago I thought up this great speech that summarized our relationship over the past two years and it included all the reasons Sean is the luckiest guy in the world to give you his name.” Sean grins at me and kisses Alex on the cheek. “But recent events in my life have made me rethink what I wanted to say to you both, so … here it is, simply and sweet.” I take a nervous sip of my champagne then suck in a courageous breath.

“I hope every day you take each other’s breath away. I hope every kiss feels like the first but ends like the last. I hope you always see the best versions of yourselves reflected in each other’s eyes.” I look at Alex while my own emotions derail my thoughts. “But mostly, I hope you wake up every morning next to each other because there’s no place in this world you’d rather be, instead of having nowhere else to go. May you always be each other’s home.”

I raise my glass and the band starts in as applause and clinking glasses echo in the air. Alex and Sean cut the cake and have their first dance. In spite of my suggestion to skip the wedding party dance, claiming that it was unoriginal, we have it and I’m forced to once again breach my comfort zone and dance with Kai.

“Do you think we’ll ever be friends again?” he asks as the band plays “Maybe I’m Amazed.”

“I don’t know if we know how to be friends anymore.” I shrug. “Nothing lasts forever.”