Bloom (7 page)

I managed to avoid Ella for a few days. Not that I didn’t forgive her. Honestly, I had a hard time asking forgiveness for my rudeness. She tried to do something to make me smile, and instead of smiling I ruined her day. I didn’t like being that person. The one who gets upset for people when they accidentally step on my toes. I wished I could be more like her and overlook offenses, especially when they weren’t intentional.

My dad once told me something that resonated with me now. “Pride has a lot of masks. One mask transforms you into someone better than you actually are. The other mask paints you into an ugly person. Both masks are just that ... masks. So if you catch yourself admiring yourself, feeling sorry for yourself, or hating yourself ... remember to take off the mask and be yourself. No human is worthy of too much praise and loathing. Don’t be so full of yourself.”

I missed him. And my mother. I wished they’d move back to Pennsylvania, but every few years they seemed to move further from the cold.

Dad was right. I needed to take off my pride masks. Right now, I was draped in insecurity and pity. Thinking too much of myself again.

I meandered downstairs. No sign of Ella, but most of my old photographs that were sold now sat on the couch, reflecting the dreary gray sky from the window.

“Oh, hey,” Ella said as she popped up from the kitchen floor with a sponge in each hand. “I found all of your photographs and bought them back.” She stood beside me and pointed with a sponge. “Except the one like that one. The other one with the city skyline ... couldn’t find it. And I’m really sorry. I haven’t given up, but the one you wanted to give Anastasia is still missing. The 11x17 one you named ‘Out of Adversity’ right?”

“How’d you know that’s what I named it?”

“I’m your biggest fan.”

“I’m so sorry, Ella. I know you’ve only meant to help. My reaction was immature.”

“I completely understand. I didn’t realize you did those in a dark room and didn’t have copies, otherwise I would’ve made copies first. I just knew you sold your work back in Philly and thought I’d help so you had something to get back on your feet when you were better.”

“I miss Philly.”

Gavin appeared in the stairway with Adelaide.

“What are you doing here on a Friday morning?” I said. “Thought this was the day you taught art at that homeschooling group?”

He looked at Ella, then me. “Today’s Saturday.”

“Saturday?” I frantically pulled my phone out of my hoodie. “Shoot. I’m supposed to take Anastasia out today.”

“Well, at least you’re already dressed.” Ella took Adelaide from Gavin. “What time do you need to be there?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

I texted Sophia. Running late. Be there in twenty.

Anastasia walked to
my car. Slower than normal.
Sophia said her body was weakening so much that she wasn’t sure she’d make it to Christmas.
Hold on, sweet girl
, I said inside.
Just one more Christmas for your mama
.

I held my breath as I helped her frail body into my car. “You sure you’re okay?”

She looked at my hands. “You sure you are? I remember how my skin tightened after the burns. I could barely move without hurting.”

I smiled. “I take extra pain management medicine when I know I’m going to be more active. By the end of the day I’m beat though.”

We drove a few minutes when she asked me to put on some music. As Adele chased pavements, we chased green lights until we arrived at our destination. I waved to Derek, Ella’s brother, and got out of the car. He walked out the front door of the warehouse and smiled, then gave me a hug.

“Sarah, it’s so good to see you getting back to life. I remember that feeling. Hiding and growing content in misery. You look happy now.”

“Happier. I’ve not quite tipped the scale to happy yet.”

“Happier is a start.”

“Thanks for doing this, D. Anastasia doesn’t want to tell her family.”

“Very brave of her.” He walked to the car and opened the door. “Anastasia, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.” He bowed and kissed her hand. “I am honored to meet you.” He helped her out of the car.

I escorted her to the door of the building and turned back to Derek. “Oh, my stuff is in the trunk. Can you get it please?”

Anastasia gasped when she walked inside. So did I.

Wow.

Derek entered and grinned as he set my equipment down. “Is it what you imagined?”

Anastasia tried to speak a few times, then finally said, “It’s so much more. I can’t believe it.”

“Yes. Unbelievable,” I said. “Just ... unbelievable.”

“Hey, hey.” Miranda appeared from around a wall. “Pretty snazzy, huh?” She put her arm around Anastasia. “Derek’s pretty good at landscaping. I’ve even allowed him to landscape my heart with his love.”

He rolled his eyes and we all laughed as I admired the scene. Anastasia told me she wanted to surprise her family with pictures of herself to show at her funeral. Except she wanted them to resemble The Secret Garden. In December. And I had the idea of making the ground of the garden look like ice. Symbolizing the hope that melts away the winters of our lives. She loved the idea.

I never imagined it to look so realistic. The huge windows of the warehouse beamed plenty of natural sunlight, even amidst the clouds. It was cold enough inside that Derek had a real sheet of ice on the floor with a light dusting of artificial snow. It must’ve had a hint of blue dye and sparkles in it, given the magical sheen. A realistic fake tree stood in the midst of the overwhelmingly beautiful display of flowers and a swing made of rope and boards hung from a branch. It looked magical.

“Did Ella make a dress?” Anastasia said, her face glowing like a pale winter moon.

“Of course.” I knelt down and rummaged through my bags. “But ... she’s a little fanatical about the regency era. So she went with a blend this time. Somewhat like the dress Rose was wearing when the
Titantic
went down.”

“I’ve never seen that, but I’m sure the dress is pretty.”

I pulled it out and held it against my chest. “What do you think?”

“Wow.” Her eyes widened.

“My sister made that?” Derek said. “I don’t believe it.”

“You know she made her own wedding dress, right?” Miranda said.

“And every curtain and pillow in her house,” I added. “Okay, girl. Let’s get you dressed.”

Miranda showed us where to change. “Derek has a heater set up so you don’t get cold. Stay here until we’re ready.”

I helped Anastasia undress. Her burn scars were similar to mine. Covering her chest and erasing any resemblance of what could’ve been a growing woman. She wrapped her arms around her chest. I knew the feeling.

“I have my compression garments on,” I said. “If I didn’t though, I’d show you that mine looks the same.”

“Really?” Her arms dropped to her sides. “Some of the kids at school used to call me The Crumbly Cancer Girl because my skin looked weird.”

“What?” I held the dress as she balanced herself on my shoulders and stepped into the fabric. “That’s horrible.”

“Sometimes I felt that way too, but Vasili always reminded me of something one of our Greek elders said and it always helped.”

“What was it?”

“Blessed are those who were born ugly and are hated on earth, because they will have the most beautiful place in Paradise, if they glorify God and do not grumble. Or something like that.”

“I’ve done far too much grumbling.”

“I did too. Until my uncle helped me see what’s important and what’s not.”

“Vasili again?”

She nodded. “Who else?”

Certainly not Kyriakos, I thought as I buttoned the back of her dress. I had to use mainly my right hand since my left hand couldn’t do buttons yet. I brushed Anastasia’s hair and braided two pieces back with baby’s breath, then joined them to make a crown.

She touched the braids and thanked me, then said, “This is the dress I want to be buried in and I want my hair like this too.”

“Anastasia, can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“How did you come to accept your death like it’s no big deal? You’re so young and there’s plenty of adults who panic at the thought of death. About two years ago I was told I had cancer. We got it cleared out, but before that I was on my living room floor in a ball.”

“I did cry a little. Mostly when I heard my mom crying at night. Every night she comes into my room and and prays as she watches me sleep. Well”—she giggled—“at least she thinks I’m sleeping. Anyway, I used to cry after she left because early on she always asked God to help her become a better mother. She thought she wasn’t a good mom to me because she had to go to work and cook and clean. I guess she felt bad for not spending more time with me.” Her eyes held the maturity of a woman, not a little girl. “She’s always been the best mom in the world though. You know, the other day she gave me a journal. She started writing letters to me when she found out I was pregnant. I mean”—she laughed again—“when she found out she was pregnant. I read almost two-hundred letters. She was meaning to keep going, but ... well, anyway, she’s the best mom ever.”

“That means you cried more about her sadness than your own.”

“I guess you’re right. I want to cry sometimes though.”

I wanted to probe her for some kind of revelation on the acceptance of death, on her uncanny sense of joy, but I realized it wouldn’t work. She didn’t think like me. Somehow her innocence had been preserved. She counted her blessings and hardly noticed her trials. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be simple. Joyful. Content. Like a child.

Like Anastasia.

Miranda called for us. We walked back into the marriage of winter and spring.

“If you get too cold”—I took the blanket from her shoulders—“let me know, okay? We can take breaks if needed.”

Derek and Miranda set up most of my camera equipment, but I rearranged it and prepared myself while Derek carefully helped Anastasia to the swing.

“Real doves?” she said.

I looked up. Sure enough, Derek rented real doves. I laughed and peered through my lens. Been a while since Nikon and I spent time together. I missed it. Felt so good to wrap my hands around a camera again.

“Miranda, would you mind helping me with the light meter and other things?”

She smiled. “My pleasure. I’m so glad to be a part of this.”

For the next twenty minutes I snapped photos of a beautiful girl so full of life you’d never be able to see death’s grip on her. She smiled, spun, danced, and swung as high as she could on the swing. My favorite was the photo of her stooping down to let a dove out of it’s cage, then smiling from below as it flew above her. The entire experience was one of those memories you want to encapsulate and save in a box of grand memories, then pass on to the generations to follow you.

And perhaps I would.

I walked back into Ella’s house after a long Monday, wanting nothing more than to crash in my bed.

Ella handed me a stack of mail. “How did your doctor’s appointment go?”

“Long.” I walked to the steps. “I’m exhausted.”

She stood at the bottom of the steps as I ascended. Adelaide slept against her chest, all snug in a baby wrap. “So what did the doctor say?”

“He said I’m healing well. Mobility should increase even more by spring. He wants to do some skin grafting again.”

“When?”

“I asked him to wait until after Anastasia passes. I want to be there for her.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Okay. Sophia is worried that she won’t make it to Christmas. I think she will though.”

“Keep me posted. Oh, Tylissa is coming over this weekend. I’m a little nervous that I won’t be able to console her. Will you be around?”

“I’ll try to.”

I walked to my room and reclined on my bed with a stack of letters in my hand. Bills. Hospital letters. Credit card offers.

“What’s this?”

Written by a child. I opened the envelope and unfolded the construction paper. A drawing of me holding hands with a little girl. Large letters that read,
I miss you.
Signed,
Abby.

So selfish of me. How could I forget Abby? At the same time, how could I maintain a relationship with James’ daughter? After his last episode I wanted nothing to do with him. Regardless of the pity I couldn’t shake.

I suppose the kind thing to do would be to see her one last time and say goodbye.

I called James. His voicemail picked up. I was hoping for that.

“James, it’s me. Hey, I’d like to see Abby again. I want to explain this to her so she doesn’t think I’m abandoning her. I know it’s hard enough for her, having lost both of her parents so young. I know you hate me right now, but consider Abby’s feelings. Okay, um, thanks.”

About ten minutes later he called back. I let it go to voicemail.

“Hey, got your message. Call me back.”

I was hoping he wouldn’t say that. I preferred voicemail conversations in this case. I dialed his number. We exchanged awkward greetings.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he blurted out. “Can I bring Abby and we can all meet for dinner tomorrow?”

“Can you be civil?”

“I said I’m sorry, Sarah. You’re not the only one dealing with hard times. I never claimed to be perfect.”

I felt sorry for him again, hearing that solemn tone in his words. “Where should we meet?”

“Since you’re all into organic ... how about we try that new pizza place on Mulberry? I think it’s called The Fridge.”

“Okay.”

“She gets out of school by three. Maybe I can pull her out early and we can get there by four.”

I entered The Fridge
at four and ordered a veggie
smothered flatbread pizza for myself and a chicken, sweet potato, glazed onion pizza for James. I figured Abby would like both.

“Would you like wedges?” The kind cashier didn’t look twice at my burns. She smiled at me like a normal person. “Ma’am?”

“Yes, please.” I paid for it and thanked her.

“No problem. Should be out soon.”

I sat down in the back where the windows lined the wall and laughed when I saw my art for sale again. This time I could tell it was a copy because of the large size. Well, if I wanted to count my blessings I sure could start with my best friend.

Abby charged through the door and into my arms within seconds. James sauntered behind. I kissed Abby’s cheek and apologized.

She immediately rambled off every event I missed since last seeing her. From her school pet, Tippy the Toad, to her new haircut complete with bangs. James tried to reach across the table to hold my hand, but the cashier set trays of food down between us. Thankfully.

As we ate Abby filled the silence, then randomly said, “Are you guys still getting married?”

“Yes,” James said.

I held her hand. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” Her big eyes wanted answers I’m not sure I had the strength to give.

“Sarah needs some time to heal, but she still wants to be your mommy.” James held her other hand as I narrowed my eyes at him.

She looked back and forth from him to me. “Is that true?”

“Your daddy is having a hard time with this, honey, but we won’t be together. There are lots of reasons.”

“Like what?”

“Well, first of all, he doesn’t think I’m beautiful anymore.”

“That’s bull, Sarah. And you know it.”

Abby looked at me. “But ... but faces change and they die. Love doesn’t, right?” She furrowed her brow. “What’s a face have to do with love?”

“According to this world,” I said. “A lot.”

“But that has nothing to do with anything.”

“It’s more than that.” I picked at a potato and looked at James. “I think you need to marry someone who makes your heart skip a beat. Someone who makes you feel more alive. Not someone who takes the very life from you.”

Poor Abby searched us for answers. Took all I had not to cry, but I managed to keep it all inside. James controlled his anger as well. We finished eating in silence. Even Abby didn’t know what to say.

I tried to relax my fists by picking at a napkin, but I ended up shredding it to pieces. Nausea crept up my throat, then settled back down with each deep breath.

Finally Abby finished. We cleaned up and headed for the door just as Natalie and Vasili walked in. James eyed Natalie up and down as she hugged me. I tried not to look at Vasili.

“Who’s this?” Natalie asked as she smiled at James.

“I’m James,” he said. “Sarah’s fiancé.”

“Oh?” she said. “Wow, Sarah. Why’d you keep this handsome fella a secret?”

He blushed. My face probably looked pink too. For an entirely different reason. Vasili and I made eye contact as Natalie and James blushed at each other.

“This is my fiancé.” Natalie linked her arm with Vasili’s. “We’re getting married this spring.”

The men nodded at each other.

“Well,” I said. “We better get going.”

I scooted by James and his captivated eyes. When I made it out of the door I turned to see if he followed, but he didn’t.

Vasili turned and flashed his charming smile. Though it seemed weakened and forced. I smiled back and walked to my car.

James and Abby finally approached me. I gave Abby the warmest hug I possibly could and whispered in her ear, “I will always love you, Abby. Even if it doesn’t seem like I do. Your daddy will find someone else. I hope she is as sweet as you.”

“Maybe.” She dried her cheeks with her hands. “I love you.” She ran back to James and hid her face in his coat. He dropped his shoulders and wiped his own face.

Couldn’t they see that it was better this way?

I sat in my car and turned the ignition. Neither of their sad faces moved. They watched me as I pulled out of the parking lot.

By the time I got to the red light and out of their view, I lost it.

Absolutely lost it.