“That would be great.”
I leave her office, clutching the envelope in my hand, grabbing the greenhouse key from the hook where it hangs.
When I walk to the greenhouse, the tears I’ve held inside run freely down my cheeks. I walk straight to Rhea’s azaleas. “Oh, Wilf,” I say to the air around me. “Why’d you have to leave me too?”
“It’s not about you this time, sweetheart,” I almost hear him say.
I take a stool and move it to the azaleas, holding the envelope close to my heart.
Dear Jess,
Dear is an old term of endearment. In case you didn’t know that. And since I’m old, it works. You are, you know. A dear. A strong girl. A good girl. A dear.
You’re going to be all right, no matter what you did to land yourself in this place. In some ways, I suspect that my Rhea had a spiritual hand in it. Bringing you here. I’ve no doubt she’s up there, an angel, looking out for me. I think she wanted us to meet. The daughter I never got to have. Or maybe the daughter of the daughter I never got to have. That’s confusing.
Anyhow. If you’re reading this, it means I’m departed.
Don’t be sad for me. I was ready to go. Ready to be with my angel again.
I need to ask you a favor. I would like you to look after the greenhouse when I’m gone. Another reason Rhea brought you to me. Because you can carry it on. In her name. With the right amount of love and appreciation. I hope you can do this, and then when it’s time for you to move on, let it go with no regrets. I’ve left funds to keep it running for as long as it can.
So good-bye, dear Jess. Remember you have your whole life ahead of you. Fight for what you want. Choose well. Be brave.
Love,
Wilf
chapter twenty-seven
The church where Wilf’s memorial is held is the biggest nondenominational one in town. Even though there are probably about sixty or seventy people there, it doesn’t seem full because of the large, echoing size of the room. I wish every seat was taken by people who knew how awesome Wilf was and how much he’ll be missed.
At the front of the church there’s a stage with bouquets of flowers in each corner. The front of the stage is lined with potted azaleas. I’m seated in the middle in a row with staff and volunteers from New Beginnings. It’s hard because Flynn and his mom are visible from where I’m sitting. They’re near the front of the church. Flynn’s mom is on one side of Kyle, Flynn on the other. He’s bent over, reading Kyle a book. I plead with the back of his head, hoping he’ll turn around, look for me. But he doesn’t.
We haven’t spoken in six days. I’ve given up hope that things are okay. My insides are gutted. I’ve gone over different scenarios hundreds of times. What if I decided not to go to the party? What if I were still home when Flynn arrived to talk to my parents? What if his stepdad wasn’t such a complete asshole?
People around me talk in hushed voices, but it’s hard to pay attention so I sit quietly and don’t say anything at all. My emotions are being pulled in one direction and then in another. My eyes keep going back to Flynn’s head.
I think about Wilf, wishing so hard he were sitting beside me, talking to me in his growly deep voice, making fun of the people talking about him with such quiet reverence. I didn’t know him long and only got to see a tiny part of who he was, but in our short time together, we had something special, Wilf and I both knew it even if we didn’t talk about it. Me and the grouchy old man. Keeping it real.
At the front of the room, below the stage, someone begins playing the piano. The service begins. A female minister walks to the podium and speaks in a clear, soothing voice. I smile at that. I’ve never seen a female minister before. The minister talks about God and about Wilf’s life. My heart soars and aches, hearing things about him I didn’t know. He was a successful businessman. He published a book of poetry. He played the bagpipes. He took Spanish dance lessons with Rhea. And oh, how he’d loved Rhea.
When she’s done, the minister introduces an older woman, a friend of Wilf and Rhea. The woman tells stories about Wilf. People sniffle and wipe their eyes and noses, and when she’s finished, the minister announces a family friend will sing a song for Wilf, a song Wilf requested and dedicated to his wife at his memorial.
My heart begins pounding hard when I realize it’s Flynn standing. He walks to the front, picks up a guitar leaning on a wall near the podium, takes it, and faces the crowd. I didn’t know he even played guitar. What else don’t I know? He begins to play. Tears flow down my cheeks. Flynn’s voice is beautiful and emotional. At the end of the song, his voice cracks and he looks over, and for a moment, our gazes meet. For a briefer moment, he smiles. Then it’s gone and he puts the guitar back and walks to his seat.
The minister finishes up a short, sweet service and announces snacks and beverages will be served in a room in the back of the church, outside the sanctuary. The crowd begins to file out, row by row. Flynn and his family stand and walk down the main aisle toward the back of the church. When our row is up, I follow the crowd into the main hallway of the church.
When I’m in the hallway, a hand grabs my arm. Flynn. He pulls me off, away to the side, out of the crowd. We’re standing close to the washrooms but far enough away, the traffic flowing in and out doesn’t interfere.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” My heart pounds harder as I stare at him with so much I want to say. My words trip over each other in my head, but nothing leaves my mouth. I’ve no idea where to start.
“How you doing?” he asks.
“Wilf would have loved your singing. I mean, I loved your singing too. I didn’t even know you played guitar.” I sound formal and weird.
“I guess we don’t really know all that much about each other,” he says.
I want to find out, I think. I want to know. He nods at someone across the room, and I turn and see his mom and Kyle. Kyle’s back is to us, but his mom moves away, swept toward the room where the snacks are.
“How’s Kyle?” I ask.
“Okay. He’ll be okay,” he says.
I nod again. Gnaw my lip. Twist my earring. Wish I could find the right words. He smiles, his lips tight, not showing his teeth. His expression worries me.
“I’ve missed you,” I blurt, and then words uncork from my brain. “I’ve wanted to come and see you, see Kyle, but wanted to give you time too. You can come back to New Beginnings. Stella doesn’t mind. Not anymore.”
He’s looking across the room though. Not at me. “I’ve missed you too, Jess,” he says, still not looking at me. “It’s just…” He pauses.
Just?
“I should have been there.”
“I can help you look after Kyle if you want,” I say in a rush. “We could take him to that beach. My turn to get the pizza.” My voice sounds desperate. Clingy.
“Timing,” he says softly.
It sounds like good-bye.
Definitely good-bye. My back stiffens. A hot flush leaks sweat from my body. I almost place my hands over my ears. Run away.
“Timing?” I manage to say.
He doesn’t answer and stares off in the distance.
“So that’s it?” I ask him. My voice shakes. “We’re done?”
“I have to think about my mom. I mean, I should have been there. I shouldn’t have been, you know, partying like I have no responsibilities. I do. I have to be around. For my mom and Kyle.”
My sadness is drowned by a flood of anger. “That’s not fair.” I don’t try to keep the anger from my voice.
“Ferris wheels and corn dogs,” he says. “Fairs.”
That makes me furious. I know there’s no use arguing. But it’s ridiculous. Giving up on me so easily. “You’re not responsible for what happened.”
“Maybe not. But who is if I’m not there?” he asks.
“That doesn�
�t mean you don’t get a life of your own too.”
“I can’t. I can’t be the boyfriend you need me to be.”
“I don’t need you to be anything, just you.”
He smiles at me, but he’s already gone.
I drop my gaze. “I thought I mattered,” I say with more hurt than I’ve ever felt before.
“You do,” he says quietly.
“Then fight for me,” I plead. “You are allowed to have both.”
He doesn’t say anything, and the silence lands like a punch to my stomach. I’m robbed of air. It’s almost as if he’s breaking up with me, but we never even really established ourselves as a couple in the first place.
“Fine,” I say. But it’s not fine. It so far from fine, it’s in a completely different time zone from fine. I spin on my heels, hurrying for the bathroom.
“Jess,” he calls but doesn’t come after me. He doesn’t fight.
I hurry to the church washroom, and amazingly, it’s not lined up with women. I’m able to run straight into an empty stall and sit down on the toilet, gulping air and trying to keep tears from dripping down my face. My head droops to my chest. Keeping the tears from flowing is a lot of effort, but I sit still and will them not to come. Heels click on the floor, and I realize there’s a lineup starting outside my stall, so I take a deep breath, wipe under my eyes, flush, and walk out. I ignore the other women and walk to the mirror and stare at my reflection. At least I don’t look out of place, with my red eyes and blotchy face and sniffly running nose.
If Wilf were still alive, he’d give me hell for crying about my own problems at his funeral. Perspective, Jess, he’d tell me. Thinking about Wilf makes me miss him even more. I turn on the tap and run water over my hands, pool it up, and splash it on my face. My makeup is already ruined. It doesn’t matter.
While I’m drying my hands and face with the rough paper towel, the door opens. I glance up. Flynn’s mom gazes at me in the mirror. I blink fast.
“Jess,” she says.
“Hi,” I manage but can’t think of what to say next.
Neither can she, apparently.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” I finally say.
“I am too.”
I look at the sad stoop to her shoulders. The old black skirt she’s wearing. The slightly frayed sweater. I need him too, I want to tell her. And I thought he needed me. Is it right for Flynn not to have a life of his own? Does he owe her that? Should he sacrifice his life or his happiness so his little brother can have more than he does?
I don’t know. I don’t know the answer.
She married Kyle’s dad. And now she’s paying for it in more ways than one.
And so is Flynn.
My tears are threatening to roll again, so I start walking. I pass her and open the door. “Good-bye. Good luck.”
I walk into the main area. Some people are leaving, some are hanging around the door, but most have piled into the room where they’re serving snacks. I spot Stella close to the exit and hurry toward her.
“I’m leaving,” I tell her and give her a hug.
She watches me, pity in her eyes as I hurry out as fast I can move in my high heels. When I’m safely inside the Audi, I drop my head to the steering wheel and let myself go. I cry as hard and as loud as I want to.
“Good-bye, Wilf,” I whisper when my tears are finally dried. “I hope you’re with Rhea now,” I tell him. “I hope you’re happy.”
I turn the key in the ignition.
I have no idea where I’m going. Or even how I’m going to get there.
chapter twenty-eight
Penny and Allie are sitting on my bed, jumping up and down to bounce me around, trying to get me to laugh.
“Come on,” Allie says. “Get your lazy butt up. We’re going to take you to the new frozen yogurt place. It has every kind of topping you can imagine. No one can feel bad when they’re eating frozen yogurt with gummy bears and chocolate.”
I want to lie back on my bed and moan, but there’s no use arguing with these two. I see in their faces they’re not giving up. I’ve already lain around in my bed all last weekend, and based on the way she keeps checking up on me, it’s starting to freak Allie out. Even Mom was up more than me, after a slight relapse. Now she’s getting outside for walks and going to a therapist almost every day.
Nance came to see me after the party. She didn’t remember most of it, but she laughed it off, like blacking out was another highlight of a great summer bonfire party. I didn’t say anything about Flynn and neither did she. When I tried to talk to her about her parents and how she felt, she brushed me off. “I don’t care about what they do,” she said. “Don’t be lame.”
After that remark I told her Penny and I were talking again and trying to make up.
“You’re a loser” were her exact words. “You deserve each other.” She left without saying good-bye.
Since Wilf’s funeral, I’ve been working back at New Beginnings regularly. I keep at it, because I have to look after the greenhouse now. I’ve potted and built up an herb garden like I promised Stella. The cooks are trying to incorporate herbs into the meals we serve, but it’s hard when they’re bulk-sized and the dinners are usually donated. Still, I love having the herbs at the greenhouse, and no one else minds.
Allie pulls me to my feet.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll eat some stupid yogurt.”
The two of them only complain a little that I don’t change out of my oversized, slightly stained T-shirt over my short shorts. My hair is in a messy bun, and there’s no makeup on my face. At least I brushed my teeth. That’s as much as I can care.
Allie drives and I tell Penny to ride shotgun and sit in the backseat. I listen as they chatter the whole way, trying to engage me. I pretend to smile and try to hide the extent of my disinterest in everything they’re talking about.
When we get to the yogurt place, I take a container and force myself to add gummy bears and candy sprinkles to piles of yogurt that don’t appeal to me and pick a bright-green teddy bear spoon after the girl weighs my cup. Allie pays for mine, but not even that or the bright colors and candy can dent my mood.
The girls try extra hard, but I barely eat.
And then it happens when we leave.
“Oh,” Allie says and steps in front of me and tries to turn me around, shove me back inside the store. “I forgot I should take one home for Doug,” she says.
But it’s too late. I’ve seen him.
Flynn is walking through the parking lot. He has an arm draped over a girl’s shoulder. He’s pulling her head close to him, and they’re laughing. He leans down and kisses her. She’s tall. Thin. She’s wearing a tiny shirt that shows off a brown flat belly and shorter shorts than mine. Her hair is long and luxurious. She’s gorgeous.
My first urge is to throw up. My second urge is to run at her and gouge out her eyes. My third is to punch him in the stomach. Penny grabs my hand, and Allie pins herself to my other side. And then, Flynn glances over and sees us. Sees me. The smile on his face freezes. His eyes open wider, and he pulls his arm away from the girl. She looks at his face and then follows his gaze over to the three of us. Me, looking like a hot mess, and Penny and Allie clinging to the side of me like I’m a pathetic loser. All of us staring at them.
My face is on fire.
“Jess,” he calls. “Hi.” He walks away from the girl, glances at Allie and Penny, and tries to smile, but it doesn’t work so well. “Hey,” he calls.
The girl narrows her eyes. I want to hate her. He says something to her and then starts walking over to us. I watch the girl walk away, her head held high. And then I recognize the car she’s heading for. Braxton’s piece of crap. Braxton is leaning against it, and he waves at me. Beside him, under his arm, is Jennifer. She looks embarrassed for me, but she lifts her hand.
Th
en Flynn blocks my view. He’s standing right in front of me. I can’t ignore him, though I really want to. A lot.
“Hey, Jess,” he says softly. Penny and Allie don’t leave my side. “Girls,” he says to them. Allie and Penny don’t say anything. “Can I talk to Jess for a minute?”
“Go ahead,” Allie tells him.
“Alone?”
I nod my head. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?” Penny asks.
“It’s okay.”
They each squeeze a hand and glare at him and slowly walk away. Not too far.
“How’re you doing?” he asks. He runs his hand through his hair.
“Not as good as you, obviously.” Screw being civil. “That your girlfriend?”
I want to sound like I don’t care, but my voice cracks and betrays me. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says.
“No? You’re just sleeping with her?” I look straight at him. “That’s what you wanted? Easy?” I clench my hands into fists at my side. “Do you even know how embarrassing that is for me? That I thought I meant something? I heard it enough times. That you have lots of girlfriends. Everyone told me. Even Kyle.”
“I never lied to you,” he says.
“Whatever.” My fingernails press into my palms. “Does she think she’s special too?”
He reaches for me, but I pull my hand back.
“Don’t,” I tell him.
He glances toward the girl. She’s watching us but pretending not to. “She doesn’t mean anything.”
“She does. She’s a person. She deserves to be treated like one.”
He drops his gaze. “Jess?”
“Go,” I tell him. “You’ve made things more than clear.”
He doesn’t move. “I’m sorry.”
“Go!” I say again, but this time I yell it.
Allie and Penny are quickly at my side, but Flynn is already walking away. The girl is gone from Braxton’s car.
The three of us move in a straight line back to Penny’s car. Jennifer stands by it. Why didn’t I see Braxton’s car when we pulled into the parking lot?
The Truth about Us Page 23