Garden of Goodbyes

by Faith Andrews

  “I need a break from here. Tell me what’s going on.” It would be good to hear the latest and greatest and temporarily get my mind off Lennox and Violet. I had no intention of falling behind at work for them, so my plan was to have Joy keep me up to speed while I was away.

  “Oh, same old. This one’s sleeping with that one but needs us not to tell the other and to keep it out of the press. That new Macaulay-Culkin-in-the-making we acquired last week is having mommy issues, and by mommy issues I mean the kid’s mother is one overbearing pain in the ass. And, well—I have this covered, Eden. You know that. You’ve got nothing to worry about so unleash. Let me do what I’m here for.”

  “Your duties as best friend do not include listening to me vent unendingly.”

  “Um, of course they do! How many best friends have you had in your life? Do you not know how this works?”

  “You never vent to me.”

  “I have a boring life. I wish I could say I’m living vicariously through you, but I’d rather endure leg day at the gym for a month straight than walk one day in your shoes.”

  I laughed, although this whole situation was so unfunny. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “I don’t mean to make light of it, babe. You know that, right? I’m just . . . I’m here for you, no matter what.”

  “Thank you.” For some reason, those two words and Joy’s kindness choked me up. I found it hard to get them out this time. There was a lot to consider after seeing Lennox and speaking with Violet. Assessing everything made it real. I’d been called to help and I hadn’t the faintest idea how.

  I hadn’t realized I was on a familiar autopilot to the cemetery until I pulled up to the section where my mother was buried. I put the car in park, listened to Joy coax me a little more, and then let go of my pride and did what she’d been waiting for. With my head in my hand and hot tears rolling down my cheeks, I unleashed. “This is all so fucked up, Joy. I don’t even know where to begin. Forget about the past . . . reliving all those painful memories isn’t the half of it. I didn’t think it would be this hard. I guess I was fooling myself, but—she’s my sister and I hate her for what she’s done. But I also hate seeing her this way; she’s a mess, in every sense of the word. And Len—” I didn’t even want to speak his name. “Him! He’s barely recognizable. He’s nothing like I remember. There’s no life in his eyes, no happiness. He’s a shell. It’s so fucking sad, Joy. I’m heartbroken all over again. I don’t want to be here. I want to snap my fingers and be back in New York, naïve to the hell these two have created since I left.

  “And then I think, ‘this is all because I left, isn’t it? I’m to blame for this.’ I could’ve helped before it got to this. I could have stuck around, done what a caring human being would do, and prevented this whole mess from happening if I didn’t run away. I was a coward and now everything is so . . . fucked . . . up.” I wished I could say getting it out made me feel better. But it didn’t. It only made the reality of it all that much clearer. I was here but didn’t want to be. I had feelings for people undeserving of them. I felt guilty when I’d been wronged. I was all over the place and didn’t see a way out of this torment.

  “Eden, don’t you dare go there! None of this is your fault!” Joy scolded through the phone, her own voice garbled by tears and laced with sadness.

  “I wish I believed that.”

  “You don’t have to right now. Deal with this however you see fit—kick, scream, and cry—but no one thinks this is your fault. Not me, not Lennox, not Violet. She wouldn’t have called you if she believed that. It may sound like I’m talking out of my ever-optimistic ass because I only know her from what you’ve told me—and believe me, I have formed my not-so-nice opinion of her—but I know, in my gut, that there is no way in hell she blames you for whatever’s left of the two of them. Furthermore, you’re a good fucking person, Eden! You’re a lot better than me. If my sister ever did anything like this to me I wouldn’t give her a second thought. I’d write her off, move on, and forget she even existed. But not you. There you are, being selfless, putting your own hurt aside to help them, even when they don’t deserve it.”

  I took her lecture in, but the complimentary words didn’t sink in. I still couldn’t make the pain of living with this guilt and loss escape me. I hung up with Joy after a few more minutes of motivational reprimanding. She meant well, there was no denying that, but my demons were too deep, too persistent to ignore.

  Mindlessly, I exited the rental car and found myself wandering to my mother’s graveside. It seemed liked forever ago since I’d been here. I hadn’t thought about leaving her so finally when I abandoned the rest of my past to rot here in Florida. Everything that meant anything to me seemed to be a tainted mess these days.

  I swiped at the tears that lingered from my vent session with Joy. The sun gleamed hard and hot above where I plopped myself on the ground next to my mom. The grass atop the spot she was laid to rest when I was a little girl, too young to remember, was neatly mowed without a single weed or blade of grass out of place. Rocks and pebbles were placed on top of her tombstone, a bright bouquet of artificial purple flowers resting on the ground below her name. It was strange to realize that after all these years, someone still took the time to visit and keep things tidy. I wondered if it was William or Violet.

  I let the quiet of the cemetery penetrate, imagining my mother’s arms around me when I needed them most. Peace washed over me for a fleeting second; a whiff of wildflowers, the flutter of a warm breeze, the imaginary voice of a woman who once sang me to sleep. It must have been the idea of a mother that I actually missed, because I longed for her even though I didn’t remember her.

  I wished she was here to tell me what to do. How to deal with this. What to expect. But if she were, I supposed none of this would be happening in the first place. I couldn’t have known it back then, but the death of my mother was the catalyst for everything. All the bad, all the heartbreak, all the turmoil. To resent the dead—a woman I loved without knowing and felt without seeing—was a horrible thing, but it was the truth. Knowing that erased any peace I thought I’d find by coming here. Unlike so many others who’d lost a parent, I could not speak her name and ask her advice as if it was something I once had. It was pointless, an emulation of my trip back home.

  After an hour or so of feeling sorry for myself, I left my mother with no more guidance than I arrived with. Joy’s words meant something, but not enough. My mother’s absence meant nothing, but oh, so much. I was fooling myself to imagine Lennox and Violet were the only lost souls in this wicked love triangle we’d created. We were all lost. Maybe too much so to ever be found again.

  I returned to the car and started it. My tears had dried, the sadness waned, and the anger crept back into my heart. Stepping on the gas and leaving it all behind, I made up my mind. Life was too short. I’d already wasted a good part of it on Lennox and Violet; wasted too much of it feeling like shit. It was time I did something for myself. Something selfish. I couldn’t do this anymore. I wouldn’t do this anymore. It was time to go back to New York, to my life. It was time to say goodbye for good.

  Present

  SHE’D BE BACK. SHE HAD to be. She was coming back, right?

  I stared out the window and watched Eden’s rental car skid off the gravel driveway and onto the road, headed west. She never said where she was going or if she’d return, but she had to. Don’t leave me again, Eden. Please.

  I lit a cigarette and paced the fraying carpet as anxiety fucked with my head. Much like everything else in my life, my plan had backfired. Not that it was much of a plan to begin with. Therein lay the problem; I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew I needed Eden’s help to get it done.

  At first, my sole focus was on fixing Lennox. Rehab, counseling, a straightjacket, anything. As I tried to express to Eden, he was in the darkest, lowest place I’d ever seen him. Worse than after the accident. It wasn’t only that he was depressed and miserable; he was nonexistent. Most day
s he was so high he may as well have been dead. A vegetable. He’d become a waste of human life. Seeing him that way used to kill me, but I was used to it now; so numb it barely made me feel anything at all.

  It was clear from her reaction, though, that Eden didn’t take his transformation so well. It was obvious that shock and devastation overwhelmed her when she first laid eyes on him today after all these years. It was hard to witness. It was my fault. I’d done it again. I’d done so much to push her away, and seeing her that way made me hate myself even more. If I could turn back time . . .

  My imagination got the best of me as I finished my cigarette, picturing where the three of us would be had none of this happened. I momentarily pushed Lennox out of my mind and only visualized Eden and me in this what if scenario.

  We’d live in New York where she worked. The bright lights and massive buildings would tower over the memories of my past, representing the rise of a new Violet. Maybe I would’ve made the time to go to school and found a passion worth devoting my time to. Or maybe some eclectic New York artist would discover me while I was working in a coffee shop and make me his muse. Somehow, it didn’t matter if I was picking up garbage or directing the next Broadway smash hit. I’d have my sister by my side, and that meant more than any other trivial thing. We’d be happy away from William, enjoying everything our new life had to offer. Friends, experiences, maybe even a chance at real love.

  I smiled to myself, letting the made-up fantasy warm me from the inside out. Closing my eyes, I let the daydream unfold before me, only to be startled back to reality by the slamming of the front door.

  “Eden?” I hoped, snuffing out the cigarette in an ashtray. But when I turned around, staring back at me was the last person I wanted to see. “What are you doing home?”

  “Home is the operative word, darlin’. As in, this is my home and don’t you ever forget it.” William poked a dirty finger in my face, causing me to turn my nose up in disgust. The dream was over.

  I backed away and ignored his irritability—I was used to that, too—but before I could escape his presence, a grimy hand was pulling my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Work,” I lied, looking down at his tight grip on my bicep as if it was normal for my father to lay his hands on me, to leave a mark.

  “The hell you are. I heard that sister of yours is back in town. We’re gonna sit right here and wait for her to walk through that door.”

  I felt my eyes go wide and my body tense. I didn’t want to give anything away, though, so I swallowed my fear and lied some more. “She’s already gone. Came and left. There’s nothing for her here.” I found myself coming to her defense, protecting her from dealing with William. It was the least I could do. Hopefully, he’d believe me and go back to wherever he was before he walked in here emitting his stench of booze and wickedness.

  But he didn’t buy it. “I might be a drunk but I ain’t dumb, girl. I know she’s here. I saw your boy down at the bar, bumbling like a fool about the love of his life.” He air quoted the phrase and mimed a giddy girl, swaying his hips. Then he laughed, his face inches from mine. “I knew he wasn’t talking about you! So, where is she?” He looked around the house as if Eden would appear from behind some hidden corner, yell “Surprise!” and offer her father a welcoming hug.

  It was my turn to laugh, to patronize. His remark about me not meaning anything to Lennox stung, but it had no staying power. I wasn’t a fool. He was the asshole for thinking he could get to me and convince me to hand Eden over to him on a silver platter. Fat chance, buddy. Covering for her was the least I could do to make up for my sins.

  A sly grin painted my lips that were so accustomed to frowning, and I let a chuckle escape. It was almost maniacal because nothing about the way I felt was funny. “I told you. She’s not here. She got out of here because she didn’t want to see your sorry ass. She hates you. Just like I do, so why don’t you leave us all the fuck alone already?” I didn’t know what came over me. I never spoke to my father that way. He took me and Lennox in when no one else would. Sure, there was a price to pay, but I was willing to overlook that as part of my penance. But today, it was as if a beast had been let loose from a cage. I couldn’t hold it in anymore—the anger, the hurt, the humiliation, the guilt. It boiled inside of me like a bubbling brew of hate, and the person deserving of the most potent taste stood right before me.

  “You stupid bitch!” Rage blistered in his bloodshot eyes, ugly and chilling. I’d seen it many times before and knew what to expect, but I was so numb I didn’t even flinch. Not when he pushed me to the floor with dizzying force. Not when he bent over to wail on my face with a slap so hard my ears rang in pain. Not when he took to kicking me in the ribs like I was a worthless piece of roadkill instead of his own flesh and blood.

  I didn’t utter a word. I didn’t beg him to stop. I didn’t even cry. I took it submissively, like a woman deserving of punishment, because that’s what I was. Just when I thought I would concede and let the tears fall, William ceased his assault at the sound of someone screaming, “Stop!”

  With his greasy hair splayed over his face and sweat from his exertion beading his wrinkled skin, he turned to the mysterious voice and stood stunned-still when he realized it was Eden.

  I had the same dumbfounded reaction, though not for the same reason, of course. I’d seen her only a few hours ago, but the sight of her standing there, offering me salvation, made me cry harder than I had from the terrible pain of William’s attack.

  Our father stood tall—as tall as a man could who’d just been caught beating on his own daughter—and puffed out his chest. His reaction made me sick to my stomach, or maybe that was the splintering sting of my sore ribs. Either way, witnessing his smug response to Eden’s appearance made me wish I had a gun to put an end to this once and for all.

  “Back from the dead.” He stared her down without bestowing so much as a kind expression on his long-lost child.

  Eden’s chest heaved, her hands balled in fists at her sides. Her eyes looked glassy with unshed tears, and her lips were sealed tightly shut with nothing to say. She didn’t have to, though. Words weren’t necessary. It was clear from the abhorrence on her face that William would be sorry Eden had ever come back home.

  Present

  I’D WALTZ RIGHT IN THERE, collect my shit, and be on my merry way. I’d think about giving Violet an explanation, or, you know what, maybe I wouldn’t.

  I wasn’t sure. I would decide in the moment. Spontaneous. That was the new me. The new selfish me. If it suited me, she’d get a goodbye. If it didn’t, oh well, good riddance. It was long overdue anyway.

  Pulling up to the house, my heart pounded, inciting me in a way I didn’t expect. When I put the car in park, I noticed an unfamiliar car in the spot where the old truck had been before Lennox disappeared. Sourness swirled in my belly at the thought it could be William. I had no desire to see him, especially now that I was leaving, but I needed the bag I left behind. It held my return flight information, my wallet, and everything necessary to get the fuck out of here and move on.

  Storming up the steps while alternating between deep breaths and soft exhales, I gripped the handle of the screen door and heard a loud thump followed by rustling and grunting. What’s going on now? I could walk away, but my gut told me something wasn’t right.

  Swinging the door open, I entered the house and couldn’t believe my eyes. “Stop!” It was automatic instinct. Seeing anyone beaten so brutally, let alone a woman by a man, my sister by my father, brought upon a feeling so powerless my limbs felt numb, my skin turned clammy, my mind spun into overdrive.

  William startled at my demand, his foot jerking back from Violet’s rolled up body. When his eyes met mine, it was as if I’d taken a step back in time, transporting me to my childhood. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. I wanted to kill him. But I was motionless. A meek little girl, defenseless against the fear of her father. It was pathetic. I was a grown, established, independen
t woman. Just moments ago, I was writing this place off—Violet, Lennox, and William included. Yet, the mere sight of him, so vicious and brutal, erased all my strength and replaced it with vulnerability.

  “Back from the dead,” he sneered at last, eyeing me with expressionless eyes.

  “No! Back for her,” I replied without thinking, surprising myself with the declaration and my bravery.

  William smirked, flicking his demonic gaze to an injured Violet on the floor.

  Violet’s eyes sparked to life, becoming large and round with my unexpected response.

  Time stood still, the air thick, noise nonexistent. I brushed past a speechless William, for once unafraid of the consequences, and held a hand out to Violet.

  “Can you stand?” I asked, analyzing her body and focusing on the reddening bruise on her cheek.

  She nodded but winced as she tried to sit. I felt her pain the same way I used to when we were children. I felt for her the same way I did when we were kids.

  I extended my hand once again, and this time she grasped it. It had been so long since we had any physical exchange. It was strange at first, something I wasn’t sure I even liked, but with William scrutinizing us, I put all that aside and did what I knew how to do best.

  I abandoned my previous vow of selfishness and put Violet’s needs first.

  Present

  “GET IN THE CAR AND don’t look back,” I ordered, ushering Violet to the passenger side of the car.

  She was slumped over, her hand clutching the side of her frail body where William had kicked her. Repeatedly. How he could be so vile to his own daughter was beyond me. She’d never done anything to him other than exist. If anyone should want to give her a good beating, that would be me, but even I felt sympathy for my betrayer.