Cole (The Leaves)

by Hartnett, J. B.

“Aimes, really, I promise you I’m fine.” She was eyeing me cautiously as we walked the aisles. “Tell me again how we went from buying Halloween costumes to looking at wedding dresses for me?”

  “By the time you’re ready to go shopping, I’m gonna be the size of a house. I love to shop, you know that, and I’m willing to do whatever I can as your M.O.H. but dude, I’m exhausted.”

  “M.O.H.?” I asked. She rolled her eyes.

  “Maid of honor, duh?” Really, I should’ve been more up to speed on the maid of honor duties since I was hers and her wedding was only a month away. But Aimes wants things the way she wants them… all I had to do was follow her specific instructions.

  “Wow, I really don’t know anything about this stuff. I have an idea though.”

  “Tell me, please, tell me. But wait here. I’ve got to go pee. Again.” She left me in a sea of white and cream and tulle.

  Ever since I scared the hell out of everybody, they all wanted to throw me into life and not give me a moment to dwell on anything that happened. That’s how it felt anyway. I was constantly being asked how I was doing, if I needed to talk to anyone, meaning a shrink. Blah blah blah. Cole was the only exception to this. It was like he sensed what I needed. Honestly, I felt better than I had in my entire life. I couldn’t remember a time when I felt happy, really happy, until now. I knew it was wrong to have your happiness wrapped up and dependent on one person, but Cole was the main reason. He wasn’t the only reason though. I was able to paint for a living. I had a family, a real family. My best friend had also found love and was having a baby… my mother was gone and Joe was gone, for good according to Cole.

  “They took her from me Annie. They tried to keep us apart. They sent me away. Then I found your mother. She was a beauty, your mother. And she let me have you, you see? I could pretend you were my Serena. And as fate would have it, I will have her back. Who knew you would serve two purposes for me. One, to satisfy my hunger for sweet youth and two, to take back what belongs to my family. I will have my Serena and my family will have their business. But to make sure they understand… this is going to hurt, Annie.”

  “Inky?” I jumped about a mile and fell into a rack of dresses.

  “Please, Aimes don’t sneak up on me. Ever.” I took a heaving breath.

  “I actually didn’t sneak up on you. I’ve been talking to you for a good twenty seconds.”

  So maybe I did need to talk to a professional.

  “Sorry, I zoned out. What were we talking about before your bladder interrupted?”

  “Inky, don’t change the subject, what the fuck?” She was gentle, but she had a potty mouth just as much as I did and when we needed to throw in the F word for emphasis, we did just that.

  “I was just remembering that night. The most recent one with Joe. It’s all so surreal. I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore, you know? But these little memories… I don’t think they’ll ever really go away, Aimes. I think it’s just part of who I am, but I am happy. No one seems to believe me but, I swear to God, I’m okay. I promise I am. Cole and I talk every day. If I remember something, anything, I talk to him… and he talks to me.”

  “But neither one of you has talked to a professional.”

  “Well, Cole actually does.”

  “Really?” We’d begun walking through the racks again, but at that revelation, she stopped.

  “Really. He and his dad have been going together. Trying to repair their relationship. In fact, apparently there’s talk of a family Thanksgiving… which I’m told I should ask you and Gus to join us before we all head to Vegas.”

  “Hm. What should I bring?” She asked sarcastically, tapping her finger to her lips. “I mean, ya know, when you’re having a meal at a multi-millionaire’s mansion you can’t exactly show up with flowers and a bottle of two buck Chuck.”

  I started laughing so hard I thought I might pee my pants. “You should make a pie. Make your famous pumpkin pie.”

  “It’s not really mine… it’s Martha’s.” Some people were Paula Dean people, Aimes and I were Martha Stewart people.

  “Doesn’t matter. Home-made is home-made. And Gus made that chocolate pie and that was the best pie I’ve ever eaten in my life. Maybe one of each?”

  “Okay, so let’s go over this again, because maybe you’re not getting it. The maid opens the door, ‘Right this way’ she says and takes my pie and my coat. Do I ask her for my Pyrex baking dish at the end of the day or do I ask Cole’s mom? These are things I need to know.” She was joking, but only kind of.

  “I’ll ask Cole.” I chuckled. “Oh, Aimes-” We were just about to walk out the door when I saw it: the dress. “That’s it.” I stated firmly.

  “Dude, try it on. Now! Go! I’ll meet you there. I have to pee again.”

  She began to rush away, “Seriously?” I teased.

  “Seriously. And fuck you.”

  I took the dress from the rack when Sally, the aggressive sales-lady, appeared like a specter. Her name wasn’t really Sally; it was She-devil.

  “That is a Monique Lhuillier. Lace and embroidery over a fine, silk, A-line gown. When is the big day?” If you had to translate what she was really saying, it would have sounded more like, Listen, you can’t afford this, don’t touch it. I was having a Pretty Woman moment right now. I was tempted to say, ‘Look lady, I got money to spend in this place’ but I just started to laugh. Aimes appeared and was standing behind her with a smirk and a look I understood to mean, just say the word my friend. Just say the word. I also knew she probably needed to pee again or would within the next five minutes, so I gave her a nod as if to say, it’s cool man; I got this and went with it.

  “Actually, what’s your name?” I asked all smiles.

  “Tanya.”

  “Is that with a y. a. or an i. a.?”

  “Actually it is spelled, T-a-w-n-e-a.”

  Right.

  Bitch.

  “Well, Tawnea, may I please speak with your manager.”

  “She’s on a break. I can help you, I’m sure.”

  “No, no…” I said smiling my ass off, “I need to speak with her. She’ll understand and forgive the interruption, I’m sure.” She turned on her heel, which did not scream practical work-wear, and went through a closed door. Less than a minute later, an older woman appeared. She appeared very business-like and with a no-nonsense attitude look to her face.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes, you can, Tawn-e-ah here…” I didn’t want to get her in trouble, not really, because I’d been helping the elitist assholes of the O.C. for years, so I did understand the appeal of making someone feel like crap if you’d been taking that crap for years. But I never, not once, was rude or snobby to anyone, even when they deserved it. I also didn’t want her to kiss my ass and do the fake thing either. So I decided to cut out the middle man and just deal with the manager. Especially after the bomb I was about to drop. “Said she would get the manager for me, that’s you?”

  “Yes, it is. I’m Rachel. What can I do for you?” You have lipstick on your teeth. No, I’ll save that, so far she seemed nice.

  “My future mother-in-law wants to buy my wedding dress. I like this one. Can I try it on?” She looked to Tawnea wondering why she couldn’t have handled this simple request, but led me to the fitting rooms. It was similar to the set up where Aimes took me before the Gillies Exhibit. The only difference between the two, the shoes and undergarments provided here were in various shades of white and ivory.

  A few minutes passed and a quick knock rapped at the door before the older woman came in… uninvited I might add. “Sorry about Tawnea. I can only imagine. She’s the daughter of the owner’s best friend but she’s a bitch, and unfortunately dating my son. He must’ve taken stupid pills. I can tell you’re a real girl.” She emphasized the “real” part. “Now, what are we doing here?”

  I’d attempted to get into this frock all on my own. I didn’t want to ask Aimes because I wanted to walk out of the r
oom and wow her. My attempts failed. “Does it come with instructions?” I asked. She gave a light little laugh and began to separate the beautiful lace overlay from the simple silk gown underneath. “Oh, it’s a two-fer.”

  “It gathers into a beautiful bustle as well. Hey, that’s one hell of a tattoo you’ve got there.” She seemed a little suspicious, but I tried to ignore it.

  “It certainly makes a statement.” I said this to break the now awkward moment.

  “Look at this.” She stopped what she was doing and took off her suit jacket and untucked her blouse. She opened her shirt to show a dream catcher. A huge dream catcher that included the most beautiful detailed running horses, feathers and clouds that started at her lower back and snaked around her breasts… or where her breasts should’ve been. “Double mastectomy. My husband and I both have a Hog. He wants me on the back of his if we go on a road trip, but when I was five years cancer free, I got my license, got this ink, and bought my own bike. I think I’ve earned it.”

  “It’s beautiful. How long did it take? Mine’s been a work in progress for a good eight years.”

  “I think five or six times. But my husband and I made a date of it. Everyone complains about the pain of getting a tattoo, but I’m telling you now, chemo, radiation, a double mastectomy, losing my hair, and peeing out my ass from the chemo… after all of that, the pain of a tattoo doesn’t compare.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” She began getting dressed again. Then I realized something I was sure she already knew. “Nico did that, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did.” There was a moment that passed between us, an understanding. She caught my eyes again and said, “Yeah, he knows how to get the demons out of your soul and onto your skin. So, when’s the wedding?”

  “We haven’t set a date. My fiancé would do it tomorrow if I asked. It’s been a big year, so I didn’t want to rush it. I just need to breathe, you know? I would be happy if it was just the two of us and no one else.” I whispered, “But my friends would kill me.”

  “Close your eyes. I’ll finish getting you pinned and everything. I’ll get you a veiled headpiece. It’s just the thing for this dress.” I closed my eyes tight. “That’s a beautiful ring. I can see why you chose this dress. A lot of people shy away from a little color but I think this was made just for you.” The train was a pale, silvery, blue, as well as some of the beadwork. She didn’t let go of my hand. “Honey? Did you have chemo too?”

  I’d heard somewhere your nails could become brittle and fall off from all the chemicals they pour into your body from chemotherapy. A even though my nails had started to grow back, there were still yellow bruises from the pliers. I squeezed my eyes harder, but unfortunately a couple of tears escaped down my cheeks. “No.”

  “Tell me this isn’t the work of your fiancé because I gotta tell you, I can help you. No amount of money is worth that kind of pain, and I know your man has money because between this ring and this dress, you have a nice down payment on a house.”

  Seeing as how she wasn’t going to let me go, I said, “He saved me.” But apparently the truth-a-thon was going strong. “This monster showed up after years of being gone from my life.” I opened my eyes, “But this time, he’s not coming back… get my drift?”

  She stared at me, studying me, searching to see if I was lying and then said, “I believe you, honey and I’m glad to hear it. Now close your eyes.” She continued fixing the dress. I heard her open a drawer and she started arranging pins in my hair.

  “How did you know?” She seemed to have a sense about what I’d been through, on some level anyway.

  “I know Nico has a thing for helping women. He wouldn’t give his art to just anyone without a good reason. But also, my husband does social work, and I volunteer at the battered women’s shelter. I’d like to say I haven’t seen this before. Now, you walk out to your friend with your head held high. I’ll hold your hand and help you step onto the dais. You tell her these are tears of joy, but when you get back to the arms of your man, you talk to him about what happened today. Sorry, it’s none of my business, I know, but I’ve seen a lot of ugly things in my day, don’t let the nice suit fool you.”

  She arranged the dress and I kept my eyes closed. “I will. I’ll tell him.”

  “Good girl. Now, I’m gonna open the door.”

  Yeah, I needed to talk to someone.

  I heard Aimes start sobbing. “Fucking hormones.” she happily wailed.

  “Is it good? I’m gonna open my eyes now.”

  “You won’t be disappointed, my friend.” And I wasn’t.

  “I’ll take it.” Tawnea approached me to assist me stepping down. “No, this sale goes to Rachel.” I nodded to the manager, who came to help me down, and declared, turning toward Tawnea, “And my future mother-in-law, Mrs. Patricia Carlyle, wife of Richard Carlyle, mother of my fiancé… Cole Carlyle … will arrange payment.”

  When the doors to the dressing room closed, Rachel held up her hand and gave me a high five. “Way to go!!”

  “That’s not usually my style, but she’s a bitch.”

  “I’ll give you my card with my cell on the back. If you’re ever in a jam you give me call. I or my Tom - that’s my husband – we’ll come get you. Oh, and we have a way of helping people.” She paused and with a smile said, “Get my drift?”

  “Thank you.” It was a real live kindness from stranger’s moment that I would never forget.

  ***

  “So my mom called.” I walked into the kitchen to find Cole pouring me champagne. He handed me the glass and we clinked them together.

  “A celebration I should know about?” I was grinning. I loved playing these little games with him.

  “You bought a dress, I hear.”

  “Your mom has a big, big mouth.”

  “I think the next time she’s this happy will be when she hears you’re knocked up. I swear, I have never heard her so excited… and this is just the dress.”

  “Cole, I don’t care where we get married or when. Just not too many people. The ones that matter, okay?”

  He set our glasses down and snaked his arms around me. “Whatever you want, you know that. All that matters to me is that you and I are together. I don’t want to piss anyone off, but they’re not the people I want to wake up to every day either.”

  “There’s something else.” I rehearsed in the car. I was a terrible friend. I let Aimes talk and talk and responded at the appropriate times, but my mind was already here, having this conversation. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t want to say anything, but I had to.

  “What is it? Did something happen?” He was freaking out. He hid it well, but I knew he was worried about me all the time.

  “Can we sit down?”

  We sat on the couch, across from our painting. I glanced up at it and said, “How appropriate…”

  “Anika…” He let out a sigh of exasperation.

  “Okay, first things first… baby, you need to let me breathe a little bit. I know you’re looking out for me, I know you’re worried about me, but I need to be able to fall. I’m happy to be here with you all day, every day, but sometimes I need some time to just… be. That starts tonight. I need to paint it out, Cole.” Right as I said the word ‘paint’ I began to cry.

  “I was wondering when you were going to. Whatever you need. I can go out and leave you here. I won’t be far; you can call me if you need me…”

  I cut him off, “No, that’s not what I want or need. I want you behind me, in your jeans, coming in every so often to check on me. And I need to go see Nico. I need a new leaf. I hope you understand, Cole. It’s not because you’re not enough, you are. But I’ve been doing it for so long it just feels like I need that piece of the puzzle.”

  “Of course. I don’t think that at all. We’ll go now if you want.”

  “So, we’ll go see Nico, and then we’ll get some Mexican?”

  “Sure,” he said, brushing my hair back.

 
“And then, I need you to make me an appointment to talk to someone, Cole.” He didn’t say anything, not at first. He just pulled me tight against him and began shaking. Oh no. The last thing I wanted to do was upset him. “Cole?”

  “Fuck, Anika, if I could make it all disappear, I would in a second. I’ll make a call. I already found someone who specializes in… your situation.”

  Then something occurred to me and it scared the hell out of me.

  “Cole?”

  “Yeah, baby,” he said gently. He brushed a tear from my cheek.

  “How do I talk to this person without telling everything? I mean, Joe… his family probably had him offed… my mom, Joe probably killed her and dumped her body somewhere… how do I, what do I…?”

  “She’s only legally bound to share outside that office if you intend to harm yourself or someone else. Even if you went in there and said, ‘I chopped up this guy with an axe and he’s buried in my basement…’ her job would be to help you do the right thing and go to the police. She would do that, to help you heal. That’s her job, not to pass judgment.”

  That was a relief.

  “I love you so much Cole. You have no idea. Thanks for not giving up on me. I know I’m a little bit crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy, Anika. You’ve had some crazy shit happen to you, but you’re not crazy, baby.”

  I stared at his chin and remembered standing on that dais, hearing Aimes’ reaction to me in my dress before I’d opened my eyes. “The dress is beautiful. I know this will sound over the top girly, but I totally felt like a princess.”

  “Look at me, Anika.” I knew he was smiling too. “That dress, or whatever dress you wear could be encrusted in diamonds and it would only be an accessory to your beauty… inside and out.”

  “Right. Back. Atcha. Except in a tux, not a dress. Just so we’re clear.” I giggled.

  “Yeah, baby. We’re clear.”

  Best. Fiancé. Ever.

  Cole 11

  Cole

  Aimes had given me Nico’s number secretly, just in case. I wondered when Anika was going to break. She’d been going right along like nothing happened. She told me about the woman who managed the bridal store. How she was able to recognize Anika’s pain. I wasn’t really sure how, but she said they’d both had tattoos done by this Nico guy so that must’ve tipped her off.