by Kelsey Soliz
was depression, Theo kept trying to come up with ways to help me through.
At some point I mentioned I used to like drawing, so we tried that. The
problem is that those lines are too small for me to see. So, I needed
something bigger.
We tried big canvases and thick charcoals, and that is something I love to
do, too. But being able to mix up colors and put them exactly how I see the
world is kind of freeing. Showing people what I see makes me feel like I
matter, makes me feel like I can maybe relate to somebody else out there
somehow, that maybe I can connect with them through something I make.
“Which one?”
“It was that one of the magnolia tree you painted a few weeks back. The
one with the giant bloom off center?”
Hm. Don’t know why anybody would want something that simple.
“Why do you look confused? What’s your happy?”
He is still kneeling in front of me, at an absurdly close distance, but that’s
the only way I can even sort of see his pretty face. He keeps facial hair
because I like feeling the texture with my fingers, and his golden-brown
hair is away from his face.
“Who bought it?”
“This guy I work with. Said it reminded him of home.”
That hits me in the gut. In the south though, there are Magnolia trees
everywhere. People from this town see them all over the place, so it’s pretty
narrow-minded of me to assume that one of my boys just bought some of
my art.
“Hm. Okay. Happy? Your mother came for a visit with Ms. Lynn.”
“How was she today?”
“She was…in a good mood. She tried to make sweet tea for us, but she
confused the salt for the sugar. I didn’t want to be impolite, so I had to drink
an entire glass of salted tea. I don’t know how she didn’t taste the
difference.”
Theo laughs his big, booming laugh that warms me up. “You’re too nice
for your own good. I can’t imagine how awful that must have tasted.”
I shrug. “Easy price to pay to make someone happy. She was so proud of
herself for making it alone.”
Theo’s mom struggles with dementia. She lives alone with a caretaker
nearby and likes to come visit with me. She’s about the only other person I
get to speak with during the week, so I always look forward to seeing her.
Even if she does get up to trouble.
“You have a date tonight, right?”
“Oh, do I?”
“You said you did.”
I narrow my eyes at him. It’s kind of weird that a single guy lives with a
twenty-year-old female, but he refuses to let me move out. Sure, I could go
above his head and just leave, but I have come to depend on him way too
much and he says he’s happy to have me here.
His place is small, but it’s cozy and it’s home now. I’ve been pushing him
to meet women, because it’s not healthy for a young, attractive man like
himself to spend so much time at home. He should be getting out and
having fun, not worrying about me. My worst fear is that I hold him back
from becoming who he’s supposed to be or that he’ll miss out on something
big.
“Right…I guess I’ll go shower then.”
He leaves me to clean up as best I can, following my routines as I put all
my things away for the night. When I first woke up from the fire, I was
terrified I’d forever be completely dependent on someone else for
everything.
Truth is, there’s so many amazing devices and technology to assist those
that are hard of sight, so although it took an incredible learning curve to
figure everything out, I can do pretty much everything I need to do on my
own. Not that I always want to, but I’m slowly gaining my independence.
I’m not sure what will happen when Theo finally meets someone he
wants to continue seeing, when he falls in love and wants her to move in. I
know I’m on a limited time frame here, but as long as he insists he liked
having me here, I’d stay.
Theo
I don’t know why I told her I have a date, but I wish she’d stop
remembering when I did tell her. I don’t have a fucking date. But if I told
her that, she’d ask why. And then I’d have to tell her that I can’t even think
about looking at another woman because she’s all I see. All I’ve been able
to see since I took her home with me two years ago.
I hate how hard she is on herself, how she doesn’t see herself as a viable
option for a partner. Anytime things start to get even slightly more than
platonic, she makes awkward jokes and changes the subject or leaves the
room. Eventually, she’ll realize that she’s worthy of affection. That she isn’t
broken or ruined or useless. Hell, maybe I’d even convince her that she’s
still beautiful.
I go through the motions, picking out what I’d wear if I was taking her
out. I know she wouldn’t see much of it, but just knowing I’d put thought
into my appearance would make her happy. She’d let me take her to a nice
dinner and we’d eat way too much. We’d stay up too late talking about
anything and everything and maybe she’d let me kiss her.
My co-workers thought I was losing my mind. They couldn’t understand
how I could be so in love with someone that doesn’t have a clue and not get
angry about it or demand attention. But how could I not love her? The way
she sees the world after everything it’s put her through never ceases to
amaze me.
She thinks the most of everyone else yet believes she doesn’t deserve the
same respect. Date. More like I was going to dress up, tell her goodbye,
then pick up a pizza so I could go park somewhere quiet and waste time on
Netflix or something until an acceptable amount of time had passed.
She thinks I go on dates a few times a month, and every time it’s the
same thing. A total fake-out. It should hurt that she doesn’t jealous at the
thought of me with another woman, but I know she doesn’t think she’ll ever
be worthy of that kind of attention again.
I wish I could find those boys that haunt her, convince her to let them
back in her life. I hear her calling for them nearly every night in her sleep,
see the ghosts of their memories in her art. Sometimes she’ll go quiet and
just stare off, and I know she’s thinking about them.
The decision to talk to them again has to come from her, though. If I push
her, it won’t work. She’s made amazing strides in the few years since the
accident, but she has a lifetime of bad to make up for. I like to think she’s
finally at least a little happy living with me. From what she’s told me, she’s
never had that. And that fucking kills me.
Her soul is so pure that when she smiles, I want to just wrap her up and
steal her away from everyone else. I also have a feeling that she would
never be ready to see my love for the vastness it really is until she’s made
peace with her past.
Amelia has never had any closure. For all I know, they’re out there
looking for her, planning their life out together with her while she gets
stronger. At this point, I’m sure they don’t know about the fire. Or if they
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do, they don’t realize she made it through. There’s no other way that
anybody that truly knew Amelia could abandon her when she was in the
state that fire left her.
Sometimes I get this raging anger in me because she still belongs to
them, but then other times I tell myself she has to belong to me, too, right?
She’s here, she lets me keep her safe. That has to mean something. If those
three guys ever came back and pledged their devotion, I’d beg with the rest
of them for her to keep me, as well.
I don’t know them, but I do. Amelia has talked about them so much in
therapy that I’m sure I could nearly write a biography on them. She’s even
started smiling when it happens. I love that she’s allowed herself that
window to her past finally, and it seems to be helping her to heal. Or maybe
I could write a novel on the way she looks when she’s lost to those happy
memories. I’m glad that she has at least that from her past to keep her
moving. Some days, I wasn’t sure she’d make it through. I’ve never seen
someone so broken before, but she’s a fighter.
I’d have to get along with them, because I can no longer see a future
Amelia isn’t in. If it has to include three other guys that want to love her
and care for her, who am I to deny her? If it makes her happy, I can’t be
mad. Until then, I’ll keep steady and go on these ‘dates’ so she doesn’t get
suspicious. I’ll keep loving her and caring for her, until she realizes what
my words and actions actually mean and can reciprocate them.
Cameron
I’m staring at the painting that Alex carted in last week, mesmerized. I
don’t know how many hours we all spent inside the branches of that
magnolia tree, but this painting pretty much sums it up. There are no clean-
cut leaves or borders, but the colors, the feeling poured into the swirls of
color are pure nostalgia.
I’m staring at the artist’s signature in the bottom corner, trying to read it.
It’s not the precise lettering of most names you see on art, looking more like
symbols than letters, but something about the way it was carefully thrown
onto the canvas begs me to look closer.
“Strange, huh?”
I nod as Constantine sinks onto the couch next to me, eyeing the art as
well now.
“Alex didn’t say anything about the artist?”
“Nah, somebody he works with at the station sold it to him. His
roommate painted it or something, but he didn’t ask for any details about
him. You know how he is.”
That pretty much summed up Alex. You know how he is. After we lost
Amelia in that fire, he’s been cold and impersonal. I was shocked when he
brought this home because it seemed a little impulsive, but when I realized
it was a magnolia tree, I understood immediately. It reminded him of her.
Stupid, how after two years we’re all still as hung up on her as we were
when she died. We saw her mere hours before she was locked in that room
and ripped from us, and that knowledge alone is enough to keep us all as
hermits. She was our everything.
With all the shit between us, we never got to explore anything. I had that
one, perfect time with her when we were kids, and then everything went to
hell. She changed my soul, and I’m not convinced any of us will ever truly
get over her.
Alex can try and pick up women every weekend, Constantine can bury
himself in the garage fixing up bikes, I can kill myself with farm work until
my hands bleed and my legs want to collapse, but at the end of the day, it’s
still her smile I still fall asleep to. Her body I still reach out for.
“Weird. Anyway, you gonna go to the funeral for Sophie’s aunt
tomorrow?”
“Kind of feel like a jerk if I don’t. I know I’m not the one that dated her,
but we were still kind of friends. I’m sure Alex would appreciate the
backup too, they’re not on the greatest terms right now.”
Constantine snorts. “Because she’s a total bitch. I don’t know how the
fuck he ever got it up to touch her.”
Alex and Sophie. Pretty sure I’ve thrown up a few times just thinking
about that combo. Make no mistake, Alex was completely in love with
Amelia. When she disappeared, though, he fell for Sophie’s fake charm
hook, line, and sinker. Not right away, but after a year or so with no
interaction, with Sophie feeding him shit about how Amelia didn’t want to
see us anymore, I think he got sick of hurting.
They were mercurial. Fighting constantly, then fucking, then back to
screaming. She wasn’t unattractive, I’d give her that, but she just always
seemed…off to me. I could never believe a word she said, especially with
how she always seemed to obsess over details of her cousin.
As far as I knew Alex was really done with Sophie this time, but I
wouldn’t be surprised to see them hooking up somewhere just because they
could. Really, Amelia was gone. We hardly even had a real claim to her, so
I’m not sure why it still makes me angry when I think of any of us with
someone new. It just doesn’t compute for me.
Constantine has picked up a girl here and there since Amelia’s accident,
but like me, he’s not ready to open up to anyone else.
“I just wish…”
“That everything was different? That the perfect woman didn’t have to
die in some stupid ass fire? I still think it’s suspicious that Sophie’s Aunt
wasn’t around for the fire.”
There had been a big investigation after the fire, but Sophie’s aunt had an
alibi. No way that Amelia would have locked herself in that room, though.
She had been through shit, but she wasn’t that kind of person. Sophie and
her Aunt always insisted otherwise. Said she chose to go and took the house
with her. I say it’s bullshit.
But since we’re not family, we can’t really get any other details. We have
been forced to depend on what Sophie says about it all, and deal with her
tears, that I’m sure were manufactured for sympathy. She barely even knew
her cousin, as far as I knew.
“You know that, and I know that, but either her Aunt had someone at the
police station in her pocket, or she really was innocent. She was kind of
awful as far as human beings go, but I don’t want to believe she could have
murdered her own niece.”
Constantine grunts at this, his eyes lost to forbidden memories for a bit as
we both think about what Amelia must have felt in those last minutes. How
scared she must have been, how badly it hurt. Did she think about us?
When she realized she wasn’t getting out, did she conjure our faces and find
comfort?
“Let’s go. We can’t sit here all night and keep living the nightmares.
Amelia would be pissed if she saw us.”
“Where we going?”
“Alex has a buddy from work, the guy that sold him the painting, invited
us out for some drinks.”
We weren’t quite 21 yet, but there was this local tavern that didn’t really
care as long as we didn’t cause problems.
Alex
Theo had asked me several times to come hang out
after a shift, but for
some reason I’d just always turned him down. He seemed like an okay guy,
and I was pretty sure he kept asking because I was kind of a loner at the
station. Maybe he saw some of my demons, and thought I was a charity
case. Either way, I needed an excuse tonight.
Sophie had been all whiny, which I guess is expected since her mom just
died, but we weren’t together anymore and maybe it made me a total
asshole, but honestly, I didn’t really care. When I think of her mom, all I
can see is that look of disgust she had on her face when she told us all that
Amelia was moving away to boarding school.
I’m not supposed to keep thinking about her, but it’s like I just can’t even
stop it. Maybe the fact that Amelia should have been going to this funeral,
that it concerns her family, is stirring things up so her memory tortures me
more than normal. I didn’t want to go to the funeral, but I felt I kind of
owed it to Amelia. Yes, I realize she’s not alive.
I clung to the toxic relationship with her cousin though, because I wanted
any piece of Amelia left behind. Fucked up, I know. I never really believed
any of the bullshit that Sophie liked to feed us, I saw through her Aunt’s
judgement and knew that’s where the vitriol was really stemming from. I
pretended real well though to make nice with Sophie.
I walk through the bar doors, nodding at the bartender that never IDs me,
and slide into the booth where Constantine and Cameron are already at.
Their pitcher of beer is ready for a refill, but they don’t look any happier for
it. I thought beer was supposed to make you happy?
“Hey man.”
“Hey, glad you guys could make it out. Sophie has been texting me all
day, begging to see me and I just…couldn’t.”
“Just glad you finally shut her down and wised up.”
Constantine has barely ever even tried to like Sophie, but I wasn’t going
to try and convince him otherwise. I knew she was not a nice girl.
“Yeah, well.”
Theo walks in then, nodding at me before sliding into the booth with us.
“Theo, these are my guys, Cameron and Constantine. Guys, this is Theo.
He was one of my mentors when I started working at the fire station last
year.”
They all give each other a nod, because we’re men and we can’t act too