Bloom

by Grey, Marilyn

  Thank you for everything. You’re probably looking at my grave right now. It’s weird to be writing this while I’m alive. I’m picturing my body all the way under the ground while people come up to my gravestone and kiss it like it’s my face.

  Don’t cry. I’m not dead. I’m more alive than I’ve ever been. You will be too one day. And you and me will look at each other and we won’t have any scars. I can’t wait for that.

  Oh, and my last wish, I know this is weird but ... don’t name your baby after me. Tell Vasili to do it the proper Greek way. He loves you. He’ll listen. It will make Yia Yia happy.

  I love you. Make new memories and remember me. I love all of you so much.

  Love,

  Anastasia

  I folded up the letter and stared at a picture of her that someone else must’ve put beside the stone.

  “She wanted us to get married,” a voice said behind me.

  I jumped.

  Vasili looked down at me, a grin hugging his cheeks.

  “What the heck?” I said, almost falling into the flowers.

  He laughed. “I got your picture. The gift.”

  “Where’s Natalie?”

  “She insisted on taking pictures before the wedding so she wouldn’t ruin her makeup if she cried. She told me she couldn’t marry me without telling me about it. Then, we talked about life for a while and she told me she didn’t want to marry me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She didn’t want to feel like she needed to live up to the way you loved me. She said she wanted to find a man she can love the way you love”—he cleared his throat—“me.”

  I stood in front of him. “Vasili, I—”

  “Shhhh....”

  “No, but I—”

  “Later.” He knelt in front of her grave. “Let’s focus on her for now.”

  We stood at our cars in the middle of the cemetery, staring at each other. He tapped the hood of his car as I jingled my keys. He tapped again. I jingled more.

  We never had an awkward moment before. It was always comfortable air between us, even if the air lacked words. But this was flat-out strange.

  “So ... now what?” I said.

  He looked around. “Want to go to Paris?”

  “No.” I laughed. “I can’t. Not like this. Did you see the pictures of—”

  “I saw them.”

  “And you—”

  “Don’t care.”

  I nodded. He tapped. I jingled.

  “Oh, come on.” He swung his arms and clapped his hands. “This feels like the most bizarre blind date ever. It’s you and me here.”

  “You said we were like brother and sister.”

  “I said what I needed to at the time.” He pointed to my car. “Let’s go get ice cream and fudge or something. Meet me at Central Market?”

  We walked around the market, looking at knick-

  knacks and breathing in the freshly baked breads. He bought us five pounds of fudge, a little bit of every flavor. We decided to skip the ice cream. I didn’t like to eat a lot of sugar. Not since the cancer scare.

  We sat outside on a bench, sampling fudge and listening to an old man play guitar. We smiled at him as he strummed away, then suddenly began playing a crazy guitar solo. His long beard shook as he played. Vasili and I exchanged glances as we ate. For a second, it almost seemed like old times. Except I couldn’t toss the idea of who he was intending to be with right now and where.

  “Can I ask a question?” I dabbed my face with a napkin.

  He put the fudge in his lap and nodded.

  “You really loved Natalie, right?”

  He nodded while shrugging.

  “Is that a yes? I’m just wondering because you were about to commit to spending the rest of your life with her, and she decided to end it at the last minute. You didn’t put up a fight. Then, you’re sitting with me the next day, eating fudge like you never experienced any of that. Did she tell you about the salon? She never really wanted LA more than you.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  I looked down. “Sure.”

  “Why did you write the man you love, finally telling him how you really feel, only to convince him to marry someone else?”

  “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “What is right and what is wrong in this situation?”

  “Depends, I guess.”

  “For you, the right thing to do is to have me marry Natalie. For Natalie, the right thing to do is have me marry you. For me, I don’t know. At first I thought the right thing to do was stick to my word. Commit to Natalie and give her my best, even though our time together lacked any sort of substance since she became obsessed with celebrities. I’m a man of my word, but was I wrong? Should I be a man of my heart, even if it betrays my word? What if it betrays another person? I don’t know. How far does a person go before their right becomes a wrong? How do we ever know if we’re right?”

  People walked by as I processed his words. He looked deep in thought as well, occasionally bringing a slice of fudge to his lips. I tried not to notice.

  “Want to know what really did it for me?” he said, staring off into the distance. “Those photographs. All this time you knew that my favorite piece of art was your own work. I spent nights looking at that thing for hours. Natalie never understood what I saw in it.” He paused, then looked at me. “You know what really gets me?”

  “That we both understand the beauty in something she couldn’t see?”

  “No,” he said. “Well, that too.” He set the fudge on the bench between us. “I could seriously eat that entire box.”

  I smiled. “It’s really good. It has a milky creaminess to it without that gritty texture a lot of fudge has.”

  “Man, I know. It melts in your mouth.”

  I laughed. “I liked the mint chocolate chip one.”

  “So, what amazed me the most is that you knew about it all that time and you kept it a secret. You didn’t want to hurt Natalie or cause problems.” He snuck another chunk of fudge and we both smiled. “And that really made me think, because Natalie hid your letter for the complete opposite reason. She was only looking out for herself.”

  “She’s a good person. She just doesn’t think the same. I was always on the receiving end of inconsiderateness, so for me thinking of others is almost like a habit. It always annoys me when people in the city have multiple vehicles and they park them all out front, not even considering the family next door who has to lug five kids and groceries two blocks because they had to park their one vehicle super far away. But other people, like Natalie, always had people serving them life on a silver platter. Even you did it to her by always giving her what she wanted. It’s not her fault that she naturally considers herself first. She’s practically been forced into thinking that way, but she’s a sweet girl and she really wanted to try to be more considerate of your feelings.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “Interesting.”

  “I’m not completely selfless either, you know. Yes, I didn’t want to hurt anyone or become the source of problems, but also it scared the living daylights out of me.”

  “What did?”

  “The possibility of being with a man like you.” I let my hair fall from behind my ear, creating a shield from his eyes. “Now that I’m like this.”

  “I have scars too, Sarah. You haven’t seen me naked yet.”

  I blushed and tried to hide my laugh.

  “I didn’t mean to say yet.” He laughed, stumbling over his words. “I mean, well, I have scars all the way down my chest to my ... stuff.”

  I cracked up laughing and leaned back into the bench, holding my stomach and basking in the odd relationship we now had.

  “Oh, Vasili.” I couldn’t stop laughing. “Your ... stu
ff?”

  “I know, I know. Sounds very manly.” He stood. “On that note, I promised Mom I’d stop by today and explain everything. Should I tell her about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “That we’re, you know…”

  “Dating?” I stood beside him and we began walking toward the parking lot. “No. Not yet. I don’t know how to do this.”

  He nodded as he walked, then stopped by his car door. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “For?”

  “Our date.”

  Thirty One

  Ella and Gavin invited Matt and Lydia over. Gavin’s best friend and his wife, and their little one. I didn’t expect to see them when I walked in and I noticeably sighed.

  They looked up from their couch conversations and waited for me to say something. I stood there, like an immovable statue. Could this really be happening to me?

  “What’s wrong?” Ella said. “You look worried.”

  “Try again.”

  “Sad?”

  “Again.”

  “Angry!” Matt chimed in.

  “Confused out of my mind.” I walked to the steps. “Ella, I need to talk.”

  “Oh, you can tell us,” Matt said.

  I looked at Ella.

  She shrugged. “Sarah is kind of private.” She stood. “I’ll be back.”

  “Oh, fine.” I motioned for Ella to sit back down. “I blame this all on you anyway. You and your addiction to romance.”

  “Did you show up during the wedding and scream for them to stop?” she said.

  Everyone stared at me, even the babies.

  “Worse,” I said. “Natalie refused to go through with it and I was visiting Anastasia’s grave today for her birthday when he shows up. We went to market and now he is picking me up at seven for our date.”

  “What?” Ella squealed and jumped up.

  “That’s great.” Lydia smiled.

  “No, it’s not really,” I said.

  “You’re sad for Natalie?” Gavin said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I feel terrible about that. Absolutely horrible. He wants to take me on a date the day after his canceled wedding? That doesn’t seem right at all. Or romantic. It’s kind of weird.”

  Lydia laughed.

  “Well,” Matt said. “It is a little weird when you put it that way, but you only live once.”

  “Can’t hurt to go out on a date,” Ella said. Was that a tear on her cheek? “It is romantic, if you ask me.”

  “It’s dreadful,” I said. “When I fantasized about this day it was amazing, but now that it’s real I’m freaked out. I’m worried about Natalie’s broken heart and my own too. I don’t think I can let him love me like this.” I sucked in my bottom lip to keep from crying. “In my dreams I could, but this is real life. I don’t think I want to be that close to a man whose opinion I care so deeply about.”

  “You need to stop,” Gavin said. “You and I are really similar, Sarah. As someone who can relate, you just need to get your mind out of hell or your life will turn into a living hell. If you want to call that living.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic. Don’t think so much. You have no idea what could happen if you let it. You’re fixated on keeping yourself in your safe little bubble. Well, I did the same thing. Always suppressing hopes so I’d never get let down or hurt. I can’t speak for your life, but I wrapped my bubble so tight that I started to suffocate in my own prison. All that to have a slight wind pop the bubble.” He rubbed his hands on his jeans and looked around the room. “What?”

  “What about us?” Ella said.

  He laughed. “I meant before us.” Looking back at me, he sighed and gave me a crooked smile. “I’m not trying to upset you, although I can also relate to that feeling too. The second someone tells you to stop moping you want to throw the nearest object at them and tell them they don’t understand you. I’m saying this to help you. Let go, Sarah. Let go of it all and live. Just live already.”

  “I don’t think that’s fair,” I said. “I’ve been doing really well. I don’t see how dating a guy constitutes a full life.”

  Matt stood as though a lightbulb turned on in his head. He held up his index finger. “I get it!” All eyes on him, he continued. “It’s the one thing you want more than anything and the thing you fear the most. By giving up, you’ll live forever with regrets. But”—he held his finger up again—“if you try and you get hurt, at least you didn’t let the fear stop you from trying.”

  “That’s good, man,” Gavin said. “Pretty deep for you. I was just going to say something cheesy like—”

  “Spare us,” Matt said, sitting back down.

  I think I actually laughed.

  “So,” I said. “Life is simply about trying then? Taking the training wheels off and getting back on the bike when you fall? I still don’t see how that makes life so amazing.”

  “It’s not the trying that matters,” Ella said. “It’s just that it means you don’t live based off of fears. For you, it’s the fear of getting hurt, not being perfect, not being a people pleaser.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I smiled. “Got anymore?”

  “For me,” Gavin said, “it’s always been the fear of losing something or someone I love. Also dealing with my own failures and guilt. Being a people pleaser too.”

  “My issues have always been commitment-related,” Matt said. “Fear of staying the same too long. Of getting bored.”

  “Which really stems from a fear of being quiet and looking in the mirror,” Gavin said.

  “Yeah. Thanks oh mighty counselor.” Matt laughed.

  Everyone else did too.

  Lydia folded her hands in her lap and shifted in her seat. “Mine ... I’m kind of uncomfortable saying.”

  “I’ll go.” Ella popped the balloon of tension. “I can be a little too idealistic.”

  “A little?” Matt said.

  We laughed again.

  “Okay, okay.” She motioned for quiet. “I’m serious though. My idealism doesn’t end with romance and relationships. I’m really hard on myself. If I can’t do something perfectly the first time, I don’t want to try again. I can’t stand messing up. At all. Not even a microscopic mistake no one else can see. If Gavin doesn’t ‘ooh and ahh’ over a meal I cooked I shrink inside. If someone tells me a picture on the wall would look better three inches to the right, I feel like I’m stupid. If I don’t co-sleep with Adelaide, or if I do, either way I feel wrong, like the world’s worst mother. I feel like I’m never good enough for myself.”

  I nodded. I could relate.

  “I’ll say one,” Lydia said. “I have that too, but I also have this fear of death. Especially suffering. I don’t know if I believe in God or not. Heaven and hell. I want to believe something exists after this life, but I don’t know. Falling asleep and being worm food without ever opening my eyes to another day ... that scares me.”

  “You never told me that,” Matt said.

  “What’s the one that made you uncomfortable?” Ellla said.

  “I can’t say right now.” She knelt down on the floor with Ella and the babies. “Maybe another day.”

  “Will you tell me?” Matt said. “When we leave?”

  “If you promise not to get mad.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Well, thanks guys,” I said. “I’m still so nervous though. There’s so much pressure now. Before, we were just friends. Our time together felt natural. Now it’s all weird. I’m genuinely afraid that he might kiss me.”

  Ella laughed. “This coming from the girl who had more dates in one year than I did in my entire life.”

  “I’m not that girl anymore.” She started to speak, but I kept
going, “I know you’re going to say I’m still the same person underneath, but I’m not. I don’t want to date for fun anymore. If I let someone in I don’t want to let him out. Ever.”

  Gavin stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. “Take a deep breath.” He exaggerated as he inhaled. “Then back out.” He blew the air back out. “Now. Go get ready. Be yourself. Go out with your friend and have fun.”

  For the first time since the accident I thumbed

  through my old wardrobe. Every piece of clothing brought back a memory of my life before. I relived a few sunny memories for a few minutes, then pulled out a long black dress. I wore it to a wedding a few months before the fire. If I threw a cardigan over it maybe I’d feel less self-conscious about my chest.

  It still hurt sometimes to get dressed and undressed. Another reason I felt silly going on a date. Honestly, I felt like a ninety-nine year old woman going out. What’s the point?

  The point, I reminded myself, is that you love him.

  I finally got into the dress, put a red cardigan over it, then looked in my new mirror. Not too bad.

  I stepped closer and touched the scars on my face. Maybe they were right. Maybe I did focus too much on the negative things.

  I turned my face and analyzed the scars. I guess it wasn’t that bad. Could be worse, I thought.

  I imagined the flames again. The intense heat surrounding me as I covered my face with my arms. James screaming my name over and over as I tried to bite my way out of the fabric. The smell. The horrid smell and knowing it was me. It was my life melting away.

  But now I had a chance to mold it into something new.

  I stepped away from the mirror and thanked God for my life. For everything.

  It wasn’t that bad at all.

  Ella gasped when I walked downstairs. “Sarah!”

  She hurried out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon still in her hand.

  I smiled. Felt like prom day only fifty times better and more important.

  Ella waved the spoon between us. “It’s ... I can’t believe it.”