Bouquet Toss

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Bouquet Toss Page 10

by Melissa Brown


  “I’m going to stay here if that’s ok, Daph.” Morgan says, pulling her laptop from her briefcase. “I didn’t know Mayson and I don’t want to intrude upon his family. They deserve to be surrounded by those who truly love their son.”

  “Of course, Morgan, you’re here for me and I’m so thankful. I’ll call or text you to let you know when I’ll be back.”

  Walking through the hospital doors feels surreal. I’m returning after a few long, excruciating weeks, and yet it feels as if I never left. The elevator delivers me to Mayson’s floor and I’m flooded with memories, the good and the bad, the kisses and the tears, the wonderful conversations and the things left unsaid.

  Mayson’s room approaches and my heart catapults into my throat. Overcome with emotion, I’m terrified that Brynn will be inside the room. I don’t want to cause her any more pain, but I also want to have my own goodbye with Mayson without her watching and judging my every word.

  Brynn is nowhere to be found as I enter the room. I let out a huge sigh of relief, but the tears erupt from my eyes as I see Mayson lying helplessly in the bed. The hum of the respirator is absent and the silence is maddening. Cece is sitting next to Mayson and she gestures for me to join her. She strokes his hand lovingly and it’s clear that he’s still with us for the time being.

  “Daphne, I’m so relieved that you’re here. Dr. Peterson doesn’t think he has much longer. His pulse has slowed significantly since they disconnected the machines two hours ago. I’m going to step outside and let you have a moment. I will be back, though. I need to be with my baby when he goes,” she wipes a lone tear from her cheek. I offer her a sympathetic smile while rubbing her arm gently. She squeezes my hand briefly before walking out of the room.

  I slide the chair next to Mayson’s side and hold both his hands in mine. I need to say goodbye, even though I cannot possibly imagine a world without Mayson in it.

  “I’m so glad I got to see you one last time, Mayse. I would’ve regretted it forever if I hadn’t. I know I should be angry with you. I should be furious, but I’m not. I’m too devastated to be angry. I thought this was it, Mayse. I thought it’d be you and me.” I sob, wiping my tears with my sleeve.

  “But, I have to let you go now. It’s time for you to be at peace. I will always wonder what could’ve been for us, Mayson. I will always treasure those lovely moments that we shared. And I will always do my very best to not let my memories be clouded by your mistakes,” I stop to take a deep breath before I continue speaking, “I need you to hear me, Mayson. I need you to hear me when I say that I love you. Because I do, Mayse, no matter what happened, no matter what you did or didn’t do...I love you.”

  Choking on the words and tears, I feel Cece’s delicate hand on my shoulder. I stand and hug her tightly before releasing her. She needs to be with her son now. Her husband is standing by the door, watching us stoically. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him. His face is pained, but he does not cry. I turn back to Cece.

  “I need to allow you time with your son. Besides, I can’t bear to be here when he goes. Thank you for giving me that time. I needed it more than you will ever know.” Somehow, I muster the strength to leave the room, knowing that Mayson will be gone in a matter of hours, minutes or even seconds. The thought is unbearable and I can’t be here.

  Walking towards the elevator, I see a blond woman slumped over a garbage can, her hair pulled back weakly by her own hands.

  “Brynn?” I ask weakly. Brynn stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Ugh! Not you. Please go...just go away. I don’t want to be near you right now, not today.” She hisses, leaning over to clutch the trash can once again. I can smell alcohol on her breath.

  “Please, Brynn. Let me help you. There is a restroom right around the corner. I’ll help you get cleaned up before you...” I summon the words, but they will not leave my mouth.

  “Before I lose the man I’m supposed to marry? Before he dies? God, I don’t want to be talking about this with you, his whore, of all people.”

  “I’m not his whore, Brynn, just like you aren’t his fiancé.” I say matter-of-factly. Her blotchy, red eyes widen as she looks at me in shock. “Yes,” I continue, “I know.” Brynn opens her mouth as if to speak, but simply stares at me, wide eyed, looking ashamed.

  “He doesn’t have much time, Brynn. And if you don’t say goodbye, you’ll always regret it.”

  “How dare you?” she spits the words as if they’re venom, “You know absolutely nothing about me. You don’t know the years I’ve spent loving that man, planning our future and worshipping the ground he walked on. Don’t you get it? I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough to keep him faithful. He went looking for something more. He went looking for you!” She sobs as she yells at me. I take the lashing, for I know that on some level she’s right. I stand up straight and prepare for more abuse. But, instead, she takes my hand and sinks into my arms.

  “I will never, ever forgive him. I wish you’d never showed up here, Daphne. At least then I could’ve said goodbye; I could’ve loved him when he died. I could’ve...I could’ve...this can’t be happening! Why is this happening?”

  “Brynn, I’m begging you to please say goodbye to him. Neither of us asked for this to happen. Neither of us wants to feel like we weren’t enough for him. But, the truth is, we will never feel anything else. He’s leaving us. He’s going soon. You need to make peace, Brynn. You need to forgive him.”

  “Do you?” she asks, incredulously, pulling away from me. She looks bewildered. “Do you forgive him?”

  “Right now, yes, I’ve forgiven him. I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow. But, I know I have to be here with him right now. I said goodbye and gave him my forgiveness. I needed to do that. I needed to let him go. I have no idea how I’ll feel in the future but I don’t think I will ever regret saying goodbye to the love of my life.”

  “Is that who he was to you, the love of your life?’

  “Yes,” I whisper, afraid of hurting her.

  “He was mine, too,” she responds. “Damn him!”

  “Look, Brynn, I don’t know why he kept us both around. I really don’t. But, I have to believe that it was because he loved us, both of us. We both know Mayson could be selfish, and maybe this was his ultimate act of selfishness. He couldn’t bear to let either of us go.”

  “Maybe,” she nods reluctantly, “I wish I could get the world to stop spinning for a minute. There’s no way that I can face his parents like this. I need to sober up.”

  “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.

  Chapter 18

  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 i
n 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. T
hat’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.

 

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