Bouquet Toss (14 page)

“So, you’ve decided to see him?” I ask, hopeful.

“Yes, I need to.”

“Are you a coffee drinker, Brynn?” she nods in response.

“Alright, sit down for a minute. I’ll get you a cup of coffee and perhaps the world will start to straighten out for you.  Then, you can go to him.  You can say goodbye to the man we love.” A sad smile crosses my lips as I gaze at her.  She is so wounded.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Daphne?  Why don’t you hate me the way I have always hated you?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer, shrugging.  And, it’s the truth.  As much as her words sting, it has never occurred to me to hate Brynn. 
             

“Mayson’s deception was his alone, Brynn.  I’m not going to hate you for loving him.  He was pretty irresistible.”

“Yes, he was...is...was.” She sobs again into my already soaked sleeve.

Goodbye

Mayson’s services are lovely; devastating, depressing, heartbreaking and unbelievably sad, but lovely.  Morgan and I sit quietly in the back of the church as Brynn sits with Mayson’s family. 

After a small service led by the pastor, Mayson’s father walks to the podium to deliver his son’s eulogy.  Pain spreads across the man’s face.  His brow furrows and it’s obvious he’s attempting to hold back his tears, hold back all of the emotion that is brimming from the loss of his son.  Before speaking, he brushes the stray gray hairs from his face and breathes in deeply.

“One of the most difficult things
to imagine in this world is the idea of losing one’s child.  I have three boys.  They’ve always been a challenge for my wife and I, as boys usually are.  We had our fair share of permanent marker on the walls, ER visits due to broken bones and other things of that nature. 

Mayson was the youngest, and with that, came extra challenges for him and for us.  He was always trying to keep up with his older brothers, always trying to prove to the world that he was just as fast, just as strong, and just as talented.

But, there was so much to my son, Mayson. 

He was passionate about architecture, even as a small child.  We’d take him into
Charleston
and he was fascinated by the buildings, the modern as well as those built so long ago.  He knew he wanted to build things; he wanted to create.  He was driven yet free-spirited.  He was focused, yet so carefree.

My son was not perfect.  Something I’ve been reminded of recently. But, he had a very large heart and he never set out to purposely hurt a soul.”  Mr. Holt pauses and glances at Brynn.  His eyes then leave her and search the chapel until they land on me.  My heart jumps.  Brynn turns in the pew and glares at me.  A chill runs down my spine as her arctic glare reminds me of how much my presence still hurts, and will always hurt, her.

“So, today, I am choosing to remember my son as the free spirited man who wanted to build, who wanted to create.  Today I am choosing to remember my son as the man that he was becoming.  He was building a future for himself, one that I wish I could’ve seen.  For, I know, as I’ve always known, Mayson was meant for greatness.” He pauses, turns to the large statue of Christ on the crucifix, and gesturing to Jesus adds, “Perhaps he still is, perhaps his greatness will emerge in the
Kingdom
of
Heaven
.  Goodbye, Mayson.  Make me proud, son, as you always have.” 

Mr. Holt chokes on his words and grasps the edge of the podium, his eyes staring downward as if to shield the congregation from his tears, from his pain.  My eyes grow hot as the tears stream down my face.  He wipes his cheek with his handkerchief, gives a weak smile to the congregants and sits back down next to Cece for the remainder of the services.

I cannot endure the burial so, after the church services, I quickly head to Mayson’s family in order to pay my respects and to say goodbye.   After hugging each of his brothers, I turn to Cece, my lip quivering from the sadness that has enveloped my soul.  She embraces me and I sob once again, no longer able to feel my soaked cheeks.

“Dear, I’m so sorry that we met this way.  I know this may seem like an odd thing to say, but I will miss you.” Cece says, lightly touching my cheek.  Brynn flinches watching our exchange.

“I wish we could’ve met on different terms, Cece.  If there is anything that I can ever do, please let me know,” I say reassuringly as I rub her shoulder softly.  I nod at Mayson’s father, his face once again lacking emotion.  I imagine that he’s trying to stay strong for his wife, but my heart breaks for him.  His son has died and he appears to have gone numb.  Perhaps he is.

The next morning, I’m packing my suitcase, preparing for the flight back home when my cell phone rings.  Without even glancing at the screen, I answer.   The voice on the other line is unexpected, especially so soon after Mayson’s services.

“Hello, dear, it’s Cece.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to hear from you.” So nice, but so soon.

“Listen, Daphne, I’m sure that you’re planning to head back to
Chicago
sometime soon.  But, I’m wondering if you might be able to meet me before you leave.  I have something rather important to discuss with you.”

“Of course I can meet you.” My reply is hesitant. I have no idea what she would possibly want to discuss. But, I’m happy to have the chance to spend time with her nonetheless, “My flight leaves this afternoon, but I’m free until then.  My cousin, Morgan, had to head back earlier, so I’m available any time.”

“I remember you mentioned that your hotel was near the hospital.  There is a lovely cafe just around the corner from
St. Joseph
’s called Bon Apetit.  Let’s meet there in, say, an hour?” Her voice is shaky, almost nervous.

“Yes, that would be fine.  I hope everything is alright, Cece.”

“I’ll see you soon, Daphne.” Her voice sounds agitated.  My nerve endings sizzle as my brain ponders the sudden change in her demeanor.  On edge, I somehow manage to finish packing my suitcases and head to the cafe.

Cece is waiting for me when I enter the restaurant.  Large, dark circles sit beneath her eyes. She looks as though she’s barely slept.  My heart aches for her.

“Good morning, Daphne,” she greets me, pulling me in for a warm embrace.  “Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice.  This would’ve been so much harder to do over the phone...” her eyes leave mine as she returns to her seat.  Sitting down, my heart thumps frantically in my chest.

“Cece, I have to be honest.  You’re making me incredibly uneasy.” I say, hoping she’ll reassure me that everything is ok, that I’ve just misunderstood her behavior.  Grief can masquerade in many forms, after all.  Some can become angry, defiant, or edgy. I hope that Cece is exhausted and elusive due to her anguish.  But, there’s no change in her disposition.  Instead, she hangs her head and begins her confession.

“I’ve been up all night, Daphne.  I wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but...I had to see you.  I had to tell you what I know.”

“What you know?  Did you learn something about Mayson?”

“Yes, well, I found something, something of Mayson’s.  But, I believe it was meant for you,” she says, reaching into her purse.  “Please forgive me for showing this to you, but I had to...I needed you to know.”  What could possibly be inside that purse? What other betrayal had Mayson committed against me?  The suspense was absolutely horrendous.  Forcing myself to breathe deeply, I wait for Cece to reveal her discovery.  

My jaw feels like it’s dropped to the table as she places a small velvet box in front of me.

“This can’t possibly be what I think it is,” I gasp in horror.

“Open it, Daphne.”  Holding my breath, I slowly open the elegant box.  A large solitaire diamond is nestled into a gorgeous platinum setting. There is no doubt it’s an engagement ring. Its beauty forces a large sigh from my throat.

“I don’t understand, Cece.  This must be for Brynn.  Why on earth are you showing this...to me?  I can’t bear the idea of knowing I was cheating with a man who was about to propose to another woman.” Cece shakes her head defiantly.

“This is the reaction I was afraid of, Daphne. I know that Mayson and Brynn were together a long time.  But, every fiber of my being tells me that this ring was meant for you.”  Her eyes are pleading with me to listen.

“For me?  Why?  What makes you think that, Cece? I’m struggling to wrap my mind around all of this.”  Completely besieged, I reach into my purse to find a tissue.  My eyes are swelling with tears and I’m angry with myself for crying again over Mayson’s unfaithfulness.  These feelings of anger are also directed at Cece for sharing this with me, for pouring lemon juice on the paper cut inside my heart.  Why would she do this to me?  Why?

“I didn’t exaggerate when I told you that Mayson had been different lately.  He was different the entire time he was seeing you, Daphne.  He was lighthearted, carefree,
in love
.  I could see it, I could feel it.  I had never seen him like that, not in all the years that he and Brynn were together.  Of course, they seemed happy, but he was not enchanted by her.  She did not bring out the best in him.  But, I think you did.  And I think Mayson knew that.  In my heart, I believe he was planning to end it with Brynn, but then...the accident...”

“Cece, I’m sorry, but this is too much for me to process right now,” I say, hanging my head, wiping my tears, wishing for this dreadful conversation to end.

“Maybe this was a mistake, Daphne.  I’m so sorry.  You are such a sweet and loving person.  I thought this would give you peace.  I thought this would help you to know just how much Mayson loved you.”

“But, I don’t know that this ring is for me, Cece.  That’s the problem.  Yes, you feel it in your gut.  But that’s simply not enough.  There is no engraving with my name, no note inside the box, nothing.  And so I’m forced to reconcile the fact that the man I loved purchased a ring that may have been meant for me.  But, I will never know for sure...ever.”

“There is a receipt,” Cece says, her voice commanding that I listen.

“What?” I muster weakly.

“Does this date mean anything to you?” she asks, handing me the small piece of paper with the name of a jewelry store at the top.  It’s dated Saturday, November 27, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. 

“Yes, it does.” I say, my heart creeping into my throat.

“Well?” Cece asks in anticipation.

“The night before, he told me he loved me.” I say softly. Cece gasps and smiles widely.

“So, it must be for you,” she exclaims while releasing a large sigh of relief.

“No, you don’t understand.  He said he loved me on Friday evening, but then he left me the next morning. He purchased it the day he left me with no goodbye.”

“He left you?  That doesn’t make sense.  The two of you expressed your love for the first time.”

“No, I didn’t say that, Cece.  I told you that Mayson expressed his love.”

“You didn’t return the sentiment?  I’m so confused.  You seem to care so deeply for him, I assumed you loved him, too.” Cece looks panicked.

“I do love him, Cece.  I just couldn’t find the words that night.  It was complicated and I was overwhelmed.  The point is, he left the next morning, leaving only a note. He said he had things to think about.  I can only imagine he had decided to end things with me and pursue a future with Brynn.”

“Or perhaps, he was making the ultimate gesture to win your love.” Cece suggests, raising one eyebrow.  She reminds me of her charismatic son.  Does she truly believe this or is she only telling me what she thinks I need to hear in this moment.  Did Mayson think I needed an engagement ring in order to return his love?  Or had he simply given up on me?  More questions without answers.  Another mystery that will plague my soul.

“Maybe,” I say, staring at the table, my heart pulsing painfully inside my chest, “or maybe not.”

“Oh, Daphne, I would never want to hurt you.” She sighs, reaching out to touch my hand.  Without thinking, I pull away from her.  She looks so much like Mayson, that I can’t bear her touch.  I can’t bear to be hurt again.  When I see her expression, her eyes wide and wounded, I’m immediately filled with regret for hurting her.

“I know that, Cece.  You’ve been through so much.  I haven’t forgotten that.  But, I was finally coming to terms with everything and now...now it’s worse than I ever could’ve imagined.  I dreamed of a future with Mayson, fantasized about it.  I dreamed of moving to
Denver
, of buying a home, of getting married.  And now, you’re telling me that he may have shared that dream with me. But then again, he may have decided to pursue those things with someone else.”

Abruptly, Cece stands up and wipes the tears from her eyes.  “Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am, Daphne.  I thought I was doing the right thing.  As a mother, I wanted to comfort you, to let you know that my Mayson was capable of more.  But, like my son, I have hurt you and I’ll always regret that.  I need to go, Daphne.”  She stands and places the ring box in the middle of the table.

“This ring belongs to you. I am certain of it, Daphne.  Even if you can’t see that right now.  Do what you will with it.   You can leave it here, throw it in the nearest trash bin… whatever you feel you need to do.  But, I know in my heart that it’s yours.”