by Amelia Grace
Darcy walked over to me. He ran his hand through his hair and pulled his eyebrows together. ‘Your grandfather called. He wants you to call him back. Immediately.’
‘I will. Thanks, Darcy.’ I wondered why Gramps didn’t call me first.
I walked into the cold room amongst the flowers and dialled Grampapa’s number. He picked up before the first ring even finished.
He started to speak. I froze at his words and ran from the cold room out to the store, my work boots slamming against the floor boards.
I dropped my phone. ‘I’ve got to go, Darcy!’
I retrieved my bicycle from the office, wheeled it between the flower displays, out the front doors, mounted it and rode to the tallest building in Tarrin: the Crown of Tarrin.
The hotel elevator was taking too long to arrive, so I ran up fifteen flights of stairs and walked out on to the roof of the building, sucking in deep breaths.
I stopped when I saw Gram standing on the edge of the roof.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled and a shiver ran down my spine. She was no longer the colour of pink. She was the colour of black. Pitch black, with an electrical storm.
I took slow steps towards her. ‘What are you doing, Gram?’ I asked, keeping a gentle tone in my voice like jumping off a building was an ordinary everyday event. I ignored my heart beating double time.
‘I want to end it!’ she said, looking over the edge of Tarrin’s only hotel.
‘No. You can’t. I love you, Gram! My heart will break!’ My voice cracked while my thoughts scrambled to understand. But then I did. Perfectly. I too had wanted to escape the pain of this world after that terrible day of the scars; mentally and physically. But I'm so glad I didn't. There were beautiful things in my life now, and I was thankful to be here to experience them. Each day wasn't always perfect. But it was getting there.
‘But it’s my life, and I get to choose, Landi. I don’t want to live this way anymore. I’m not living. I’m like a passenger trapped inside a vehicle on a cruel journey of which I have no choice and no control ... I’m done.’
‘No, Gram! What about Gramps?’ My voice was desperate. My chest tightened, and my limbs started to tremble.
‘I’m right here, Yolande—it’s what Gram wants.’
I turned towards my grandfather's voice. He stepped out from the shadows, his colour a swirling mass of dark gray mixed with black. He was betraying us all. And at that very moment, I hated him.
Gram sighed. I turned back to her. ‘Vertigo from heights is nothing like the vertigo of Meniere’s—the cruel and unforgiving Meniere’s disease ... oh how I abhor it!’
‘What about the people below who will find you. They will be forever traumatized—that’s not fair to them! You say you love us—but how can you do this to us?’ I had found a sudden strength in my voice. The one that wanted to be heard.
Gram looked down towards the pavement far below, and the wind blew her hair. ‘You say you love me—but why won’t you let me choose?’
‘You’re not alone in this, Gram ... let me help you!’
Gram sobbed. ‘I wanted to kill my Meniere’s vertigo with height vertigo. It seemed fitting really...’
I held out my right hand to Gram, my pulse thrumming all the way down to my fingertips. If she took it, I would hold it so tight that it would be impossible to ever let it go ... not like with Mia ... I was trembling.
Gram looked at my hand and let out a breath.
Panic seized me. I could hear my heartbeat thrashing in my ears. ‘Please, Gram ... I need you ...’ I whispered. I stretched my hand desperately further towards her. ‘Please, Gram. Hold my hand.’ I held in my sob.
Gram’s eyes softened as she looked at me, and placed her hand into mine. I swallowed hard, not feeling any relief from the panic inside me.
‘Landi ... my life is nothing now. I can’t work in the flower shop. I can’t drive. I can’t walk without losing my balance. I can’t socialise. I can’t hear. I can’t eat what I want ... I can’t ride my bicycle. My independence has been stripped away. Every moment is lived in fear of a vertigo attack, even while I sleep. I will never hear silence, or peace and quiet again, with the five impossibly loud sounds of tinnitus, incessantly torturing me. Meniere’s has taken everything from me ... everything ... except family!’
‘Gram ... we can beat it, together!’ I said, nodding my head. There was a pain in the back of my throat.
‘There’s no cure, Yolande. No. Cure!’
‘There is—we’ll find it. We’ll fund research. We’ve already set up a Meniere’s account at Flowers for Fleur, and we've been raising money. We’ll employ doctors to find the cure. It’s there. I know it is—waiting to cure everyone who has it—including you. Together, Gram, let’s find the cure ... let’s make a difference!’ I was frantic.
Gram looked down again, and a moment of time felt like a thousand years. She looked at Gramps. ‘I love you, forever and a day. Start singing, my love.’
My eyes darted over to Gramps. I had difficulty swallowing and I started to shiver.
Gramps stepped forward and took Gram’s other hand and kissed it. ‘Fleur, my love,’ Grampapa’s voice fractured. ‘I will love you until my dying breath ... I will grieve until we are together again.’ He let go of Gram’s hand and stepped back from her.
Nausea rose in my stomach. I placed my hand over my heart where it felt like it was bursting out of my chest. ‘No, Gramps, no—no—no! Remember how you felt when you first met Gram?’ My words were ridiculously fast.
‘Landi,’ Gram said with a haunting peacefulness. ‘It’s okay. You know how to run Flowers for Fleur. I’ve been training you for three months now. The business is left to you in the will.’ I released a short quiet squeal. Gram had already given up.
‘No! This—’ I waved my hand over the building. ‘This ... is not an option. What if, you’re not allowed to take your own life, and you won’t be singing with the angels ... ever?’
Gram looked at me, her eyes wide.
‘There’s treatments you haven’t tested yet. Try the gentamicin, Gram. It will stop the vertigo attacks!’
‘But it will destroy my balance on that side...’
‘You will learn to balance using your sight. The brain will relearn. And I’ll be there with you, step by step ... please, Gram ... please,’ I sobbed. ‘I love you ... I couldn’t bare it if you left—and it would be my fault because I didn’t save you ...’ I let out a loud sob. I didn’t want to cry, I had tried to be emotionally strong, but this was beyond heartbreaking.
Gram’s eyes softened. ‘Oh, my dear Yolande. I wish it was all so simple.’ Her voice was gentle.
‘Nothing good is simple, Gram. You told me yourself—remember—when I was little, trying to do ballet while learning my own version of rocket science—remember? There were cupcakes baking in the oven, Gramps was singing, and you and I were sipping on hot chocolate solving the world’s, and my problems ... remember?’
Gram gave a loving smile and swallowed hard. ‘How could I forget?’ She stared at me for a moment. ‘Yolande, what have you done?’ Gram’s voice was impossibly higher.
‘What do you mean, Gram?’ My eyes widened while my heart thudded in my chest.
‘I found an escape—a way to escape from the Meniere’s ... when I fell into that memory of that time we had together, it was just me and you, and no Meniere’s. I was free, just for a moment.’ Gram looked at me with a wide smile. She turned her body fully towards me. ‘I want to explore that more ... my mind over Meniere’s ... I think I can do it!’
‘Yes, you can, Gram—we can!’ I smiled back at her, my heart leaping with joy, but it vanished as Gram wobbled on her feet—and slipped.
I fell forward at the tug of Gram’s hand in mine. My shoulder seared with pain as I was reefed forward. But I gripped her hand tightly. I slid along the roof top until I stopped at the raised ledge, where my knees hit and stopped me from going further, from free falling, with Gram.
<
br /> I squeezed my eyes shut and held on to her hand impossibly tighter, and I would never let go ... I would never let go. I didn't want to remember Gram as the colour of broken, nor let her last breath be the colour of broken.
Gram’s scream pierced the air. ‘Don’t let go, Yolande!’ she yelled.
‘It’s okay, Gram. I’ve got you!’ I yelled.
I could hear Grampapa’s desperate mumbled pleas beside me. Then he started singing, like a final good-bye.
‘Stop singing, Gramps! Don’t you dare utter another note!’ I yelled, raging with anger. The pain in my hand and shoulder was horrendous, but I would never let go of Gram’s hand.
I closed my eyes and groaned at the excruciating pain that was ripping through me. Please ... why wouldn’t somebody help?
I sent a silent prayer to heaven. The exact same prayer I had said on that terrible day of the scars with Mia.
When I opened my eyes, another hand reached down to Gram. It didn’t belong to Gramps. But I knew those fingers ... those beautiful fingers; that lovely warm hand.
‘It’s okay, Gram. We’re okay ... our rescuer is here.’
Gram let out a sob.
Xander pulled Gram and lifted her back onto the rooftop.
I fell onto my back and looked up, conscious of my heart hammering against my chest, and my shoulder throbbing, rhythmically. Since when is the sky so blue?
I looked over at Gram. Dr Alexander Parker was beside her, holding her hand, guiding her to breathe to calmness.
He was the colour of bold blue: protection.
He looked over at me and I gave him a nod. I was okay except for my shoulder. In fact, I was more than okay. My heart was bursting with love for the man I trusted with my life.
Earned, not given.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
XANDER SAT ON THE END OF MY HOSPITAL BED. ‘How’s the pain?’
‘I’ll cope.’ I gave him a fake smile.
Xander gazed into my eyes and a sadness fell over his beautiful face. ‘You could’ve died with your grandmother.’
‘I had it sorted. I was anchored on the ledge.’
‘And dislocated your shoulder and did major damage to muscle and ligaments that only surgery could fix!’
‘Better that than the other alternative.’ I shuddered.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Thanks for saving us. You placed yourself in a danger, too.’
‘I had it sorted. I was anchored on the ledge,’ he said, and raised an eyebrow at me.
‘How’s Gram?’ I clenched my teeth together as a wave of pain hit me.
‘She’s had gentamicin injected into her middle ear, in the hope that it stops the vertigo. There's other treatment options, but she chose to try the gentamicin. She’s also having counselling and has a support system in place. You’re on her support team.’
‘Good,’ I said and pressed the button for a morphine fix. I looked up at Xander, and sighed when the medication took effect. The last thing I saw was Xander’s blue eyes gazing into mine, emitting that light I so wanted to sample.
*~*~*~*~*
‘Are you sure you’re ready to tell me what happened on that day?’ Dr Jones asked.
I was lying on the couch facing away from her. That way I wouldn’t see her reaction to the story I was about to entrust to her. Not that she ever showed reactions to anything I said. But today, I needed to tell someone the entire story, not the censored, edited one, that six other people knew, who reacted with a sense of terror—bulging eyes and a stiffened body, followed by tears and reaching out to hold me.
I sipped on the tea she had served me today. It was divine. I think she added a dose of courage to it. ‘I’ll never be ready. But keeping it inside is like being self-destructive.’
‘Yolande, you can either tell the story in first person, or third, like you are detached from the situation and looking on. Which do you think you will use?’
‘First person. I need to express what I was feeling through the entire event.’
‘Good. When you’re ready ...’
I took another sip of the tea and placed the cup back onto the saucer, the clink of the china sounding too loud. I lay back on the couch and placed my hands on my stomach, my fingers entwined, then knotting together. I looked up at the ceiling and watched the shadows of plants dance on the ceiling, like they were celebrating a moment of significance.
I took a deep, shaky breath.
‘Mia was a party girl. She loved the music, the drinks, the laughter, the dancing ... she loved flirting with men, taking it as far as she could go without any intimacy. She’s my best friend and I love her for eternity. I was always her anchor. When she went too far, riding on the moment, I would pull her back in, saving her from embarrassment, or regret.’
I took another sip of tea. Of courage.
‘On that day we were at a party. A day party, which was unusual. Two men walked into the party premises, unknown to the birthday boy. They were the colour blue, a safe colour. They were good looking men. Buffed and full of self-confidence. A magnet for Mia ... she found them at once and started flirting with them while I watched from the distance, unsure about their type, that intuition type of feeling. But Mia was having a ball.’
I cleared my throat.
‘The one named Jack, put his arm around Mia’s shoulders and led her outside. His mate, Johnno, followed. And so I followed from a safe distance behind. When Mia got into a car with them, I ran up to her and opened her door.
“Mia, I have something insane to show you!” I grabbed her hand to pull her out of the car, to stop her from making a mistake.
‘But Johnno was behind me. I could smell the stench of the liquor he'd been drinking. He gave me a firm shove and I landed across Mia’s lap in the back seat. I heard and felt the car door shut. And then another door closed. But by the time I had raised myself up, Jack was driving the car away from the party.
‘“Where are we going?” I asked, taking note of the scenery around us, and looking for a moment of slow speed where Mia and I could jump out of the moving car. Their colour was no longer blue. It had become red, bright red: danger.
“Up to the outlook to watch the sunset. It’s amazing at this time of the year.”
‘My heart slowed down a little. There would be heaps of people at the outlook watching the view. It would be okay.
‘But the outlook was different to the one I knew. Jack had to follow a bumpy, rugged, off-road track to get there. When he stopped the engine, he turned to us. “This is the real party, girls!”
‘Jack and Johnno got out of the car. They gripped our wrists and pulled us out of the back seat. They pushed us down onto the grass and laughed. I kept my eyes on them. We had to run.
‘Jack pulled out a bag of white powder from his pocket and snorted it, then handed it to Johnno, who did the same. In an instant, their unlikeable demeanour became surly and repulsive ...’
I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t say anymore of the events out loud. It was like a black monster growing larger inside me with every word I spoke. And it scared me. I didn’t want to unleash it. Not yet. Not today. I closed my eyes and brushed my shaking hand over my forehead and up into my hair.
‘That’s all I can tell you right now, Dr Jones,’ I lied. I wouldn’t be telling her, or anyone the entire event that changed my life on that terrible day of the scars.
‘Thank you for trusting me to share a part of your difficult story, Yolande. If you’d like to tell me more, I’m here when you are ready.’
I turned and faced her. ‘I will. Thanks,’ I said with a calm voice that betrayed the turmoil inside of me. I wanted to run out the door, and never return.
I stood and brushed my sweaty hands down my jeans.
Dr Jones stood a moment after me. ‘You need to talk to Mia.’
I nodded my head. If she had told me once, she had told me a thousand times. I took six long strides and I was out of her
office.
For good.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
‘FLOWERS, TEA, COFFEE OR BOOKS?’ The words rolled off my tongue with a melodic sound. It felt like the millionth time I had said it. It probably was. The couple who stood before me were the same colour, purple—wisdom and spirituality.
‘One of each, please.’
I beamed a megawatt smile at the couple before me. This was an insane moment! A quadfecta! I had never sold all four at once. UN-believable! I looked around to see if someone was playing a trick on me. Nope. Although I had my suspicions, and they rested with Darcy.
‘What type of flowers would you like?’
‘Star of Bethlehem if you have it. If not, irises and some peonies—hope and healing.’
I stilled for a moment and thought of Gram. Hope and healing. It’s what I needed too.
‘I’m thinking of an outstanding bouquet that boasts of the secret language of flowers that will permeate the air with hope and healing for you. I need to go the workbench and put the collection of blooms together. Meanwhile, please go over to Darcy, our barista, and have a tea and coffee on the house. Tell Darcy that Andi sent you. The books are on the shelf to the left to the café.’ I watched as they walked away, happy.
I opened Gram’s order book and wrote down the flower recipe I was about to create. Heavy footsteps stopped before me.
‘Flowers, tea, coffee, or books?’ I asked without looking at the person, breaking my own rule.
‘Thanks,’ said a familiar voice. I looked up at Gramps. He was smiling at me. He was the colour of yellow, with a new enthusiasm for life. ‘How’s your shoulder?’
‘Better now, after six weeks ... more importantly, how’s Gram?’
‘She’s so happy, Landi. She’s has more hope than she’s ever had with this disease. Her ear has healed well after the injection of gentamicin, and she's been vertigo free for five weeks now. But it’s still early days. We’re taking one day at a time and capturing precious moments while we can.’