by S. L. Scott
“Is now the time?”
“I took it from Cory’s stuff years ago. I shouldn’t have. I always felt bad for stealing it, for betraying our friendship like that, for being in love with his woman. I didn’t care when it came down to it. I couldn’t give it back. I even helped him search the hotel room for it.”
“Dex—” His name comes with a warning. He’s getting too close to territory I can’t have him enter or I’ll lose it entirely.
“I came here to return it to him. I was a shitty friend to him and he never gave up on me. You never gave up on me either, so I can at least return the damn picture.”
“The picture doesn’t matter. Your honesty does. He’d understand.”
He laughs. “He’d understand that his friend and the drummer in his band is in love with the same woman as him?”
“No,” I say with a laugh. “Maybe not, but none of that matters now. Just say your peace and don’t worry about the rest.”
“Maybe one day I’ll forgive myself and you’ll find a way to forgive me again, to see the man I was when we were together.”
“Maybe,” I say, not to be cruel, but to let him know I can see he’s not ready yet. I stand up next to him, dusting off my skirt. When I’m done, I remain there without looking at him, my arm touching his. “It all starts with seeing the errors of your way. Stop punishing yourself over the petty stuff that doesn’t matter. There’s a lot of pain that comes with life. Focus on the good you’ve been given.” With my fingers grazing over his shoulders, I walk back to the car.
“Rochelle,” he calls.
I turn around and stop, wanting to hear what he says… and maybe steal one last glance at him before leaving. “Yeah?”
“Do you think you can forgive me?”
“Try me sometime.”
With a gentle smile and a nod, he says, “Until then…”
“Until then…”
Standing there in front of the mail basket, I didn’t know what to make of the invitation in my hand. I’d read it three times already, but decided I need to read it again hoping it would clarify things for me.
Dear Ms. Floros,
You are cordially invited to the home of
Katherine Dexter Caggiano
High Tea
Friday at 3:30 p.m.
Nope, it makes no more sense to why Dex’s mother is inviting me over than it did the first three times I read it. I pull up the planner on my phone and clear it. If she’s asking me over, I feel I should go despite the absence of her son in my life.
I start to wonder if Dex will be there or does he even know I’ve been invited?
I miss him so much.
Lara stops by with lunch.
“I missed you. Stop traveling so much,” I joke. “I kid, kind of. Okay, I mean it. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I brought us sushi.”
“Excellent. I’m starved. Let’s eat outside.” We walk to the back patio and sit down at the table I’ve set. White wine is poured and we dig into the food and fall back into all the latest gossip. “How was New York?”
“It’s New York. It never changes, yet, it’s always changing. That makes no sense, but I’m just not a New Yorker. I need sunshine and the ocean to inspire me and my designs.”
“I’m glad you’re back. I’ve needed someone to take my mind off things.”
“So Dex hasn’t called?”
“No.” I drag my salmon roll through the wasabi, then say, “I’ve seen so much tragedy come to those who got too much in life too soon. But slowly we’re all working through it, sometimes together, sometimes apart. Dex seems to be caught in a mixture of emotions. He’s happy when he’s with me. I can tell he’s at peace. But something inside of him wants to destroy us, to destroy that peace as if he’s undeserving of it. He’s gonna have to figure this out or we’ll never be together.”
“So you’re willing to wait and see?”
“I am for him, but he doesn’t know that yet.”
“You’re a wonderful person. Better than most.” Lara holds her glass up and we toast. Though I’m not sure what we’re toasting to.
I’m prompt, as everyone should be when invited to afternoon tea. I’ve never had high tea, but I understand there are rules and etiquette that accompany it. Being on time is probably one of them.
The door is opened by Charles. I remember him from the first time we stopped by. “Right this way,” he directs.
I’m quickly intercepted by Judith and her wide smile. “It’s so good to see you again, Ms. Floros.”
“You too, Judith. Please call me Rochelle.”
She nods, and says, “Right this way, Rochelle. Mrs. Caggiano is waiting for you.”
With my hand, I stop her when I touch her forearm. “Should I be worried?”
Her smile eases into reassurance. Her hand covers mine, and she replies, “No, Mrs. Caggiano likes you. I’ve heard only good things from your visit to Diablo. But I will warn you that she’s weak, weaker than she lets on.”
“Thank you.”
I walk into the conservatory. Dex’s mother is seated in the far corner in a plush, floral fabric covered chair as she stares through the glass outside.
“Ms. Floros,” Charles announces.
Mrs. Caggiano turns and smiles when her eyes land on me. “Come in,” she says, starting to stand.
I rush over. “No, don’t get up for me.” Standing before her, she sits back down and reaches a hand out. I take it, and say, “Thank you for having me here for tea today.”
“I’m glad you could join me. Please. Sit,” she says, signaling to a chair next to hers that also faces out toward the gardens.
“I must admit, the invitation was unexpected.”
“Yes, but I’m glad you accepted. We didn’t have enough time to chat in Diablo.”
“Was there something in particular you wanted to chat about?” I ask.
“My youngest son.”
“I should tell you that I care about Dex, but we currently aren’t seeing each other.”
She leans back in her chair and an understanding grin appears. “I know. I don’t mean to pry. I’ve been hands off with him for many years, too many. I’ve failed him in so many ways. I’ve tried to reconcile that with him, but some scars are too deep to heal overnight.” The tea and tray of finger foods arrive on a large silver tray, interrupting her. She waits until everything is set up on the table before us, then continues when we’re alone again. “Antonio and I may not be able to heal all of our old wounds, but I hope he can carry on with less pain weighing on his heart.”
“He’s a good man.”
“You love him though he’s left you… in a way.”
“In a way?” I question, curious to what exactly she knows about our situation.
“He loves you. He’s being a silly man and hoping to spare you his burdens to bear. What he doesn’t understand is that women are built to share our partners’ troubles. Wouldn’t you say?” She leans forward and pours the tea. “Please eat something.”
“I would help him if I knew how, Mrs. Caggiano.” I drink my tea straight and take a bite of a small chicken salad sandwich.
His mother says, “I’ve jumped ahead of myself and forgotten my manners. Please call me Katherine.”
Setting the sandwich down, I dab the side of my mouth with the white cloth napkin. “Thank you.”
After sipping her tea, she says, “I’ll be gone soon. My expiration date, according to the doctors, has come and gone. Yet, I’m not really feeling inspired. I worry. Antonio has been left with a huge responsibility not only with my father’s estate, but his company as well since I won’t be around. I did the best I could to get things in order. I left an internal board to run things for years. I never had a knack for those types of dealings.”
I touch her wrist that is resting on the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Cancer is not how I expected to go… I wonder about my sons and if they’ll make u
p. They disagree about,” she says, with a light laugh, looking at the floral pattern of the chair, her finger tracing a violet peony. “Pretty much everything. Gage is troubled a lot like my father was. Anto… Dex is like his father. Troubled in other ways.” She looks up. “I need to ask you a favor, Rochelle.”
I want to readily agree, but my heart begins to race and without warrant I start to hold my breath in anticipation of what’s coming next.
She smiles. “Take care of my son when he finds his way back to you.”
A slow exhale is followed by me asking, “How do you know he will?”
“You’re the love of his life. He didn’t have to tell me that, though he did. I could tell the first time I ever saw you with him. Diablo confirmed my suspicions.”
“What if he never comes back?”
“Then he’ll miss out on his own love story.”
I smile. “In Diablo, you told us to follow our hearts.”
“Follow your heart. It will lead you home.”
On the drive home, I ponder her words and my thoughts drift to Dex and the mess he must feel his life is. It makes me want to call him, but I don’t. Even Tommy told me to give him time.
So I do. I also wonder about my future and what role am I willing to let Dex play in my life and in the boys’ lives. As much as I love starting this new chapter with Dex, hoping he follow his heart back to me, the reality is, I need to close other chapters, fully opening my heart to him.
The kids go through our nightly routine until I crawl into bed. My entries haven’t been as regular recently, so I pull my journal out of my nightstand and write:
Dear Cory,
I’ve been working on the tour that starts in five months and closed two deals for Kaz and Derrick. Johnny seems content with the music—writing and recording in his home studio to care about marketing. Tommy’s been working with the tour designers and stadiums. We all seem to be caught up in our own thing, but Dex is lost to us all.
I’m worried.
He sends the boys videos, so they can keep learning. They miss him, but understand that sometimes grownups are busy. They seem satisfied for now with the videos and packages he’s sent them though they ask about him a lot.
I shouldn’t bore you with this stuff. I’m sure you see right through me. You always could. So I’m just going to get this off my chest now.
I still hold onto the notion that time will heal all wounds. My heart wants to believe what my head logically knows is an impossibility. You will never be replaced in my heart. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a little room inside for someone else too.
I know you wouldn’t want me to spend my life alone. Nor I you, but it’s easier said than done, like most things. I’ve been closed off for so many years that I’ve come to realize that I will be alone forever if I continue to live like this. You, my love, will always be a part of me. But now I’m asking you to loosen the reigns around my heart and let me live in love again.
My tears drop down onto the paper, smearing the ink a bit, but I continue writing.
Please don’t hate me, Cory.
I don’t want to lie to you or hide my feelings any longer. Hoping you find contentment in me finding happiness again would be amazing and freeing in so many ways. I’m not sure if that will ever happen, but like Holli always says, Dare to Dream.
So I’m not sure where this leaves us—you and me, Mr. Journal. But I think this might be my last entry. Before I go, I must say this one more time—I Love You, Cory.
Goodbye.
XO
This is not how I planned for us to see each other. I didn’t have any real plans, but this was never a thought until now. I see the gravesite up ahead and the gathering of people circled around. Despite my deep-seeded desire to run away, I walk forward. I go because Dex needs me.
I don’t quite make it to the grave when I spot him off on the other side of a tree sitting down. His sunglasses are on and I’m thinking they might be hiding more than his eyes. He sees me walking across the groomed lawn when I veer toward him, breaking away from the crowd. He doesn’t say anything when I reach him, so I sit down despite that I’m wearing a dress. I decide not to say anything for the moment, not sure that anything I say is wanted. But I do lean my head on his shoulder, selfishly wanting to be close. Dex doesn’t move or say anything until Gage spots us, sending a glare our way. “I’m now the head of an empire I never wanted.”
I lift my head and look at him, seeing behind the dark lenses to the eyes that have cried over the death of his mother and maybe more today. “You only have to be what you want to be.”
He looks my way. “How’d you hear?”
“Tommy. Why didn’t you call me?”
Turning back to watch the last of the cars unload and the mourners joining the funeral, he says, “When we left Diablo, I thought we finally had our chance. I didn’t count on the impact my mom’s illness and the new will, Gage, all of it would put on me.”
“I was there for you.”
“I know you were.” The left side of his mouth goes up quickly before disappearing again. “But I was being buried alive with responsibilities I never asked for. The company is generations old and I own it. All. What do I know about manufacturing?”
“You have a strong team of lawyers and other managers to help you figure this out. It doesn’t have to be the same week your mom passed away.”
I catch his eyes on me again and he doesn’t turn away this time. “I missed you. Do you know that?”
I exhale, my heart starting to beat faster, then say, “I missed you so much.”
“You know, Rochelle, we’ve been through a lot. You’ve been through more. I didn’t want to put you through anything else.”
“That’s why you left?” I ask.
He nods. “One of the reasons.”
“You can put on this big show for everyone else, but I know who you really are, Dex, and you’re not gonna scare me that easily. I didn’t stop caring about you because you stopped calling.”
I see the corners of his mouth go up. “I didn’t stop caring either.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and says, “You’re pretty damn strong, sweetheart.”
“I’m here to share the burden. Just let me in.”
Dex stands and helps me to my feet. “C’mon. The sooner we do this the sooner we can leave.”
Just as he turns to join the others, I stop him by taking hold of his arm. “Hey Dex?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t rush through the funeral. I understand the desire to get through this and to be anywhere but here, but this is important, not just for others, but for you. Stay present in the moment, for your mother.”
I see the emotion he’s held back start to show as he looks down, lifting his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes, then lets them fall back into place. “I don’t want to sit in those chairs. That makes it real.”
His denial is familiar. I remember thinking the same thing years ago, but I didn’t want to upset Cory’s family by not sitting next to them. “You don’t have to. Stand where you want. I’ll stand by you.”
Shifting, he swallows hard. “I didn’t do the same for you at Cory’s.”
“You didn’t have to. I understood. All that mattered is that you were there.”
“I didn’t know you saw me,” he says, reaching for my hand.
When our fingers entwine, I reply, “You were leaning against a tree. You wore a black shirt and sunglasses. You were holding something shiny. I remembered it catching my eye as it reflected in the sun.”
He releases my hand and pulls out his wallet. Digging inside, he produces an oval coin. I recognize it before he says anything, my heart beginning to throb out of my chest. “Cory gave this to me in Paris. It’s St. Christopher.” My breaths shorten as he continues. “He said he’s the patron saint of travelers.”
“I know.” I take it from him, holding it in the palm of my hand. A tear joins it. “I gave this to him the first time he left to tour without me.
He didn’t want to go alone.” I look up at Dex. His sunglasses in his hand, his tear-filled eyes on me. “I told him he was never alone. He had you, Johnny, and Tommy. And you guys would always be there for him when I couldn’t.” I fold my fingers around it.
“He told me this coin would help me find my way home.” His hand wraps around my fisted one. “It was the last thing he said to me before he left Paris.”
The sob I was trying to hide from him breaks free. I sniffle, then ask, “Did you?”
“It led me to you, Rochelle.” He puts his sunglasses over his eyes again and releases my hand. His voice shakes when he says, “I just wish it didn’t come at the expense of him.”
Adjusting my sunglasses down over my eyes, I say, “We didn’t come at the expense of Cory. The universe doesn’t work in such cruel ways. This is how it was always meant to be.”
Taking my hand again, he asks, “Were we always meant to be?”
“We may have taken the scenic route to get here, but we’re here now, baggage and a few cute kids along for the ride.”
“Dex,” Gage calls from behind us.
Dex turns to look. When he turns back, he says, “Guess we should go over there, but before we do, I want you to know that having you share the journey has made the road less traveled worth the risk.”
“Dex!” Gage yells, ending the conversation.
Dex turns and with me by his side, we stand behind the chairs, two people mixed in with the large crowd and watch as his mother is put into her final resting place.
I stand back in a corner of his mother’s living room with Johnny and Holli, Tommy, Kaz, and Derrick. None of us are talking much. I’m not surprised. Funerals suck.
Holli nudges me. “Maybe you should go hang out with him.”
“I don’t want to add to his obligations today. Everyone wants a piece of him to help them find peace with his mother’s death.”
She touches my arm. “I understand, but you being there isn’t a burden to him.”