Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “You’re ready to go home.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah.” I exhale a heavy breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. “It’s time. There are things I need to do, more ways I need to better myself, and I have to do that there.”

  “I understand.”

  “Are you coming with me?”

  A small smile tugs his lips and he looks at our fingers wrapped together. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about too, Meadows. This city is where I belong. It feels like home. I’m going to get a job and stay here.”

  I smile back. “Look at us making grown up decisions.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Meadows.”

  My throat closes up. “I’m not even gone yet and I already don’t want to leave you. I…” Biting down on my lip, I squeeze his hand. “I can’t thank you enough for coming on this journey with me. I was set on doing this on my own, but it was so much better with you by my side. I will never ever forget this time.”

  “Fuck, Meadows, it sounds like you’re saying goodbye forever. We’ll see each other again. You can’t get rid of me this easily.”

  “I love you.” I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight.

  He freezes for a moment, then his arms twine around my body and he hugs me back. “I love you, too.”

  Ansel is so much more to me than a friend. He’s family.

  “I’m scared to go home.” It seems dumb to admit since this is my decision. “But I know I need to.”

  He lets me go, giving me a serious look. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  “You’re not mad I’m leaving?”

  “You’re not mad I’m staying?” he counters, arching a brow.

  I laugh, realizing how silly I’m being.

  “When are you going to leave?”

  “I’ll look for a ticket tonight.” I look around the apartment, a little sad to leave this place behind. “Probably pick one for a week from now.”

  “You’re going to be okay, Meadows.”

  My eyes drift back to him, my lips tugging into a smile. “I know.”

  Paris on New Year’s Eve is a delight. The city is always vibrant, full of life, but tonight it’s even more abuzz with energy and excitement over the impending New Year. Ansel and I run out of the restaurant hand in hand, full of giggles, faces flushed from the wine we had with our dinners. It’s dark out, the sky sprinkled with glittering stars.

  A short distance away the Eiffel Tower looms above us, beautiful and magnificent. It takes my breath away every time I lay my eyes on it.

  Ansel’s laughter carries over his shoulder as he runs, dragging me behind him.

  “Slow down,” I giggle, “your legs are longer than mine.”

  I feel tipsy and happy, loose in a way where the bad things can’t touch me.

  Ansel doesn’t slow and in no time we’re below the Eiffel Tower. We actually stopped by before our dinner, riding the elevator up to the top while it was still light out.

  I love it like this, lit up in the dark like a beacon.

  “Come here, picture time,” Ansel commands, when we’re near the landmark but at a good spot to get it in the background.

  He swings me around in his arms while I laugh. He holds out one hand with his phone and starts clicking, the flash lighting up our faces as he takes multiple photos. I kiss his cheek and then we’re both laughing.

  “I think I got enough.” He flicks through the fifty or so photos he took by accident.

  “Send the best ones to me.” He starts looking through them. “I didn’t mean now.”

  “Too bad, Meadows.”

  My phone dings a few minutes later with the photos and I save them to my phone, staring down at our happy, carefree faces, the Eiffel Tower looming behind us.

  I don’t know what makes me do it, it’s been weeks since I last sent him a message and he doesn’t read them anyway, but looking down at the photos of Ansel and me, I want nothing more than to make Lachlan jealous.

  I send two of the photos to him, one of us laughing, and the one where I kissed Ansel’s cheek.

  Me: This is what moving on looks like.

  I want to blame the alcohol I had, which even though it wasn’t much I’m sure it’s a contributing factor in me being reckless like this, but mostly I’m sad, because last year I spent New Year’s Eve with him and now he’s a ghost.

  Ansel and I continue walking up to the tower, hand in hand.

  There’s nothing romantic between us, not in our touches, not in our glances, but I sent those photos and that text to Lachlan because I want him to think there is. I want him to hurt like I have since he left. He’s probably moved on with some beautiful woman who’s his age, with long legs, and shiny hair, and she probably works an awesome job, and wears skirts and heels every day and—

  My phone buzzes and I yank it out of my pocket. It can’t possibly be him, not after all these months of unanswered texts. It’s probably my brother or a wrong number or—

  Lachlan: You never read the letter.

  It’s not a question.

  It’s a statement.

  And he’s right, I never did.

  My body goes cold, a sweat breaking out over my body like a sticky second skin.

  “Are you okay?” Ansel asks, noticing the change in my body language.

  I look at him with tear-filled eyes, my hands shaking so much he takes my phone from me. He sees the text and a look of anger comes over his face. He puts my phone in his pocket and slings his arm around my shoulders.

  “We’re going home, Meadows.”

  I wrap my arms around his torso, leaning against him because my weight is suddenly too much to bear.

  He’s right, I never read the letter, but it can’t possibly change anything.

  Right?

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  I pack my clothes into my suitcase, trying to find a way to fit the items and knickknacks I’ve picked up along the way. Ansel watches from the doorway. He’ll be moving out of this place at the end of January since we already paid for the month. I saw his new place, it’s not nearly as nice, but he got a job at a local café and wanted to minimize his spending since he can’t live off his parents forever.

  I joked that I guess he made more when he was dealing weed.

  “Why did you sell weed?” I look up from my suitcase and he startles at my sudden question.

  “What made you ask that, Meadows?”

  “I was thinking about things.” And you know, trying to distract myself from the text Lachlan sent a week ago about the letter. The one I promptly tossed in the trash as soon as we got home.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I think getting that text from him after all this time infuriated me. He’d clearly been reading everything I sent, and because I said I was moving on he finally decided to give me a response.

  I kind of regret throwing it away, but I can’t do anything about it now.

  It’s gone, like whatever we were.

  Ansel sighs, rubbing his stubbled jaw. The shadow of hair on his cheeks makes him look older. “I don’t know, I guess it gave me control over something. And the money was nice too.” He winks at me.

  “You’re so weird.” I laugh, stuffing a t-shirt into my suitcase.

  Ansel saunters over, picking up one of my bras. “Nice lace, Meadows.”

  “Give me that.” I snatch the lacy bra back from him, shoving it under some jeans.

  He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to miss you.”

  I sigh, feeling the burn of tears already stinging my eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

  “Come here, pretty girl.” He grabs me into his arms, holding me tight.

  “Stop making me emotional.”

  “Can’t help it. Girls just weep when I speak.”

  A laugh bubbles out of my throat and I push him away, his stomach hard beneath my hands. “You’re so full of it.”

  “Finish packing, Meadows. We nee
d to leave for the airport in an hour.”

  “Right.” I lower my head, stomach coiling at the reminder of the flight waiting for me to catch.

  He squeezes my hand as he passes. “It’s all going to work out. Don’t stress.”

  I flash him a smile. “I know.”

  I finish packing and in what feels like no time at all we’re piling into the taxi to take me to the airport. I told Ansel he didn’t have to come, but he insisted. Truth be told, I’m glad. It’s going to suck saying goodbye to him, but I know he’ll make sure I don’t chicken out and stay.

  Since it’s the afternoon, the drive to the airport takes a little longer than normal, but is still too quick.

  Ansel hops out, paying the driver despite my protests, and grabs my suitcase for me, wheeling it inside.

  “Is Sage picking you up?”

  I shake my head. “He doesn’t know I’m coming back. There are some things I need to do first.”

  Ansel arches a brow. “Do what you have to do, Meadows, just don’t forget to call, write, send a carrier pigeon—on second thought, no carrier pigeons, I bet they shit everywhere.”

  I can count on Ansel to make me laugh. We make it to security and I know it’s time to say goodbye.

  “I love you.” Standing on my tiptoes I hug him tight.

  “Love you too, Meadows. Don’t forget about me.”

  “Never.” I kiss his cheek and step away, tears coming once more.

  Grabbing the handle of my suitcase, I start to walk away.

  “Dani! Wait!” His voice stops me when I’m barely twenty feet away.

  He jogs the short distance to me, pulling something out of his back pocket.

  My eyes rest on the envelope in his hands, my name in Lachlan’s writing on the front.

  “You … you should read this.” He holds it out to me. I stare at it like I can light it on fire with my brain waves alone. “Meadows, read it, okay?”

  I finally get my hand to take it. “You read it?” I squint at him, rubbing my fingers over the edges.

  “Yeah.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I know I shouldn’t have but when I saw it I knew it had to be from him and I wanted to see what he had to say.” He scratches the back of his head. Lowering his head, he whispers in my ear, “You were never going to choose me, not when you have someone who loves you like that.”

  He grips my hands around the letter before backing away a step at a time.

  “Read it, Meadows.”

  He turns his back to me then and I watch him walk away until he’s gone from my sight. I look down at the letter clasped in my hands, tempted to toss it in the trash, but I don’t.

  I have a plane to catch.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  The plane reaches thirty-two-thousand feet before I finally open the letter.

  Dani,

  I know you probably hate me so much right now. You have every right to. Leaving seems selfish, I know, but I’m doing this for you. For us. For a chance that maybe one day we’ll have a future together. One where we’re free to love in the light, and we don’t have to hide.

  Things are getting more than complicated—it’s downright impossible to hide my feelings for you. Someone is going to find out and I know I could handle the consequences, but I don’t want you to have to bear that burden. I know you’d blame yourself, even though this is on me. I refuse to say it’s my fault, because to me saying there’s any fault in the love we have is like saying the feelings aren’t actually real.

  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. You’re the woman who was meant to be mine. I don’t know why it’s you, or me for you, but it is and I’m so glad. I hate that I have to leave you, and I realize I’m taking a huge risk, one where you may not ever be able to forgive me, but because I love you I’m willing to take the chance.

  You need to grow without me. I see that clearly and it kills me because I want to be with you more than anything. You’re not dealing with your trauma the way you should and I’m worried you’re using me as a Band-Aid. I want you to get better, let go of your past, but I see now that I’m not the person that can help you do that. It’s why I have to go. You have your wings, Dani. Use them to soar.

  You’re brilliant, amazing, beautiful, and strong.

  Don’t be so hard on yourself.

  I feel like I’m not making sense. Frankly, my thoughts are everywhere. I don’t want to leave you. The scent of you still clings to my pillow. I want it to stay there forever. I want to wake up to the sight of you in bed beside me. I want to laugh with you in the kitchen. I want to watch movies together. I want to marry you. I want to have babies with you. I want everything with you.

  If you think for a minute me leaving is because I don’t love you, you’ll know that’s not true. It’s because I love you too much—enough to let you go, to give you the room to grow.

  I only hope you’ll come back to me.

  But if you don’t, I understand that too.

  I love you, Dandelion Meadows.

  You’re my sunshine.

  —Lachlan

  My tears sprinkle the paper, making the ink run in some places.

  Beneath his name is a bunch of random numbers I don’t understand.

  I rub my fingers over the numbers, wondering what they mean.

  4.22.21 47.6205 122.3493

  Somehow, I know in my gut, they’ll lead me back to him.

  But Lachlan’s right, I need to better myself, and I have to do it on my own.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  The grass crunches with morning frost beneath my feet, a steady drizzle falling from the sky like it’s weeping.

  Mud sticks to my sneakers and I’m sure if anyone could see me I look like a complete weirdo trekking through the cemetery at the early morning hour in my jeans and raincoat with the hood pulled up, flowers cradled in my arms.

  My plane landed in Portland yesterday and I slept for fifteen hours in the hotel I booked. As soon as I woke up and showered, I headed out, wanting to do what I have to do before I catch my flight to Utah in a few hours.

  The taxi idles near the cemetery’s entrance, waiting to drop me off at the airport once I finish here. I should stop in and visit my grandparents, perhaps even drive by my childhood home, but I purposely wanted to make this a quick visit so I didn’t go into a full-blown panic.

  I see the gravestone up ahead. I’ve only been here once. Sage brought me before we flew to Utah, ironic that I’m visiting now and doing the same thing. I didn’t get to go to her funeral, not with being in the hospital at the time, but it doesn’t keep the guilt from nagging at me. My limp becomes heavier, my leg throbbing and I don’t know whether it’s from the rain or the memories.

  Stopping in front of it, my lower lip trembles.

  Laurel Meadows.

  Loving Mother and Wife.

  I trace my fingers over her name, tears pouring from my eyes.

  “Hi, Mom. I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. The last two years have been rough.” I lower my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I haven’t handled things the best, but I’m going to try now. I’m going to be better. Sage says you’d be proud of me, but I’m not so sure. I’m going to try my best.” I lay the bouquet on her gravestone, holding onto the seven other individual flowers I bought as well. “I fell in love, Mom. With someone I shouldn’t have, but it happened anyway. Despite the age difference and … other things, I know you’d love him. He’s wonderful. I … I don’t know if things will work out between us, but I know I’ll never regret loving him. I lost myself, but I’m finding my way back and he helped. It’s up to me to do the rest, so that’s what I’m going to do. I love you, Mom.” I kiss my fingers, placing them against the cold wet stone.

  Standing up, I search the graveyard for the seven other faculty and students who were victims that day.

  We were all victims, I know no one who was in the school that day will ever forget it. The pain, the fear, the suffering … but these seven pe
ople, eight including my mom, suffered the greatest loss. A life left unlived because a monster decided he had the right to decide when time was up.

  With all my flowers gone, I climb back into the taxi.

  That’s when the text comes.

  Lachlan: The first time I saw you, the sadness radiated out of you. I could feel it in the air. I’d never felt the force of any emotion that powerfully from any human being before. My heart broke for you. Not because I felt sorry for you, but because I knew no one deserved to endure what you had. I vowed then to do everything in my power to help you.

  Lachlan: Even if it meant I had to leave you.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Back in Utah, I find an apartment to rent.

  Lachlan sends another text.

  Lachlan: Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, even if it was for the best.

  I take my driver’s test since it’s been so long since I drove. I pass.

  Another text.

  Lachlan: It’s okay that you hate me. I expected it.

  I don’t tell him that I don’t hate him. I never did. I just wished I did.

  I get a job at a hardware store a couple miles from my apartment so I’m forced to drive. I keep pretending to Sage that I’m still in Paris. Ansel is sworn to secrecy on the very off chance my brother would contact him. I’m not trying to hide from my brother, just grow, and I can’t do that with him breathing down my neck teetering between sibling and parent.

  Lachlan: I wish I could stop thinking about you, but I don’t think it’s possible not to. Zeppelin misses you. I do too.

  I start seeing a therapist. One I choose myself. One who specializes in trauma and PTSD—apparently that’s what I have. The dreams started up again as soon as I was alone, but with her help they’re getting better. She makes me use breathing techniques and meditation because I refuse to take drugs for my issues. I’m getting better.