Beyond The Roses

by Monica James

  He does. “I’ll see you later. Maybe we can finish our discussion in my office when you’re free?”

  “Maybe,” I reply because I haven’t made a choice either way.

  Although my response wasn’t exactly positive, it wasn’t negative either. I’m on the fence, which is a big deal, considering I was on a fence…in Antarctica a few days ago. Roman’s smirk has me inching closer and closer to one side. How long until the scales tip, and I decide?

  Seven cups of coffee later, I’m seeing double. I skipped dinner because I’m determined to gather as much information as I can before I decide my fate.

  So far, the odds are stacked in the drugs’ favor. The research I’ve done all details the same findings. The trials have shown some fantastic results, so why am I not jumping for joy? The reason sits scrunched up in my fist.

  Georgia’s bandana is like my stress ball. It alleviates the stress when I think I’m moments away from having a breakdown, which happens every thirty seconds.

  Every time I read about something positive, Georgia’s face flashes before me, and a blanket of guilt is thrown over me. Why wasn’t this available when Georgia was alive? Both our results showed great promise, and I know this would have saved her life. But it didn’t. On the other hand, it’s here now, and it can save mine.

  Groaning, I drop my face into my palms as I wish I could make this decision and feel good about whatever I decide.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Lowering my hands, I see Sadie standing with a paperback copy of Hamlet pressed to her chest. She looks beyond concerned.

  “Not really.” I don’t even have the energy to lie.

  “Want to talk about it?” There is so much knowledge behind Sadie’s youthful eyes that it saddens me.

  “I wouldn’t want to bore you.” She smiles, pulling up a chair beside mine, indicating she’s listening.

  Clearing my throat, I tap at the computer screen. Clue number one.

  Sadie leans forward and reads the heading, her intelligent eyes widening. She spins to look at me, not hiding her surprise. “This is what you have?”

  I nod.

  She continues reading, scrolling through the article. When she gets to the end, she exhales, appearing to process everything she just read. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I shouldn’t have burdened her with it. I’m supposed to be her support unit, after all.

  “You have to do it,” she says in a small whisper. A command such as this, coming from such a tiny creature, makes me feel obliged to obey.

  “I’m thinking about it,” I reveal, reaching for my coffee cup. Looking inside it, I’m disappointed that it’s empty.

  “Thinking about it? What’s there to think about?” Her question isn’t malicious or accusing; it’s simply honest.

  “Remember Georgia?” She nods quickly. “I feel so…undeserving to have this opportunity when she never got the chance. Both our trial results were positive, which means I’m in with half a shot of this drug working for me. It’s slim, but it’s not hopeless.”

  “I don’t understand then. Why wouldn’t you try it?”

  “Because Georgia had hope and look at what happened to her. I had hope once, and it sucked the life from me. I’m afraid that if I participate in this trial and get my hopes up, it won’t work.” Expressing my weaknesses and fears aloud is a hard thing to do, but I want to tell Sadie the truth.

  She rolls her chair forward so our knees touch. “It’s okay to be frightened. I think it’s better to be scared because you’ll do everything not to feel that way again. And I think it’s better to be scared while trying instead of being scared of trying.”

  Is this kid for real?

  I couldn’t have said it better myself.

  Unable to stop myself, I lean forward and hug her with all my might. She is smaller than she looks, which only has me squeezing harder, wanting to protect her with my life.

  When put so simply, Sadie is right. Better I die fighting than die without a fight.

  Life wouldn’t be what it is without fear because fear pushes us to beat our demons and transform those weaknesses into strengths. Georgia teaches me that every day. She may not be here, but her memory lives on, reminding me to fight for what I believe in and love.

  “I owe you at least a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s.”

  She giggles into my shoulder, never letting go.

  She has no siblings, so she knows what it’s like to be alone. “Remember how I told you Georgia was my sister?”

  “Yes, I remember,” she whispers, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck and snuggling close.

  “Well, she was older than I was. I’ve always wanted to be an older sister. Maybe, if it’s okay with you, I could be yours?”

  She freezes in my arms, her tiny frame going rigid. Just when I think I’ve said the wrong thing, she nods. “I’d like that…a lot.” Her voice is heavy with approaching tears. She toys with her locket. “My grandma gave this to me. She said I was to fill it with a picture of something or someone I love.”

  I nod, giving her my complete attention.

  It takes three attempts before her trembling fingers can open the clasp. When she does, my heart breaks. It’s empty. It appears we’re two birds of a feather.

  “Welcome to the family, Sadie. Our family.” I know how much that means to someone who hasn’t heard it before.

  We continue to hug, Sadie never letting go, but that’s okay because I owe her a million hugs and so much more.

  It’s now 12:35 a.m., and I’m wide-awake, pondering everything from the mysteries of life to whether I want a grilled cheese or not. Kicking off the covers, I decide to take a walk to clear my head and settle my churning stomach.

  Slipping into a peacock-colored summer dress and Chucks, I close my door quietly and tiptoe down the hallway in the opposite direction of Roman’s office. Most people are fast asleep, unlike me, the insomniac skulking through the night. I have no real desire to go anywhere specific, but the gardens seem to be my go-to place when I feel the need to escape.

  The star-kissed sky flashes above me, reminding me that I’m a mere speck in the greater scheme of things. So many tragedies are happening right this second, and I should be thankful for all the good things I have.

  I venture over a grassy hill and see the tall pine trees surround me on both sides, prompting me to remember that I’ve seen this sight before. If I recall correctly, a stunning rose garden should be just up ahead. It was stunning from afar, so I can only imagine how extraordinary it will look up close.

  The moon is full, providing all the light I need to navigate past the pines. Just beyond is an amazing spectacle that takes my breath away. Rows upon rows of roses are planted as far as the eye can see. Every color rose is cultivated, the well-ordered effect unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. All the colors of a rose rainbow.

  I wonder why this was positioned here. Why is it so far away from the main building?

  A light wind picks up speed, alerting me that a fellow insomniac is close by. The shifting of dirt can be heard quite distinctly, which makes me wonder why someone is gardening at this time of the night.

  I decide to find out.

  The flowering bushes are thick and lush and well maintained. They are looked after with love and care. As I peer down each procession, the digging gets louder and louder, but after five minutes, I’m certain I’m hearing things and consider turning back.

  However, I scream bloody murder when a soft voice sounds behind me.

  “Lola?”

  “Holy shit!” I spin around, wielding the stick that I picked up along my journey as a weapon.

  “Are you planning to stab me?”

  “Maybe,” I reply breathlessly, attempting to calm down my racing heart. “You almost gave me a heart attack. You do realize this is how every horror movie starts, right?”

  Roman runs his forearm over his sweaty brow, leaving a dirty smudge in its wake.

  Peering down at his shovel
and mud-covered boots, I raise a brow. “So…are you digging a grave?” Hardly appropriate, I know, but why on earth is he out here at one a.m.?

  As I’m still waving the stick around like a sword, Roman reaches out and lowers my wrist. The contact shoots fireworks all the way to my toes.

  “I’m gardening,” he reveals, which doesn’t explain why he’s out at this ungodly hour.

  “And this gardening couldn’t wait until the morning? When it’s daylight and a lot less…serial killerish?” I ask, searching for the right word.

  No matter how often I’m rewarded with that lopsided smirk, it always feels like the first time. “No rest for the wicked.” He accents his comment with a wink.

  “S-so what is this place?” I ask, breaking the sudden static in the air.

  Roman licks his bottom lip, then glances around with a sigh. “Want me to show you?”

  I nod.

  He extends his palm. I peer down at it, nervous. “I won’t bite.”

  Pushing my fears aside, I take his hand, relishing in the connection. He threads his fingers through mine and leads the way. He knows his way around and explains all the types of roses.

  It takes about forty-five minutes, but by the end, Roman has shown me the complete gardens. The entire time I listened, lost in his voice and his passion for something truly beautiful.

  When we stop at what appears to be the first row of roses, he doesn’t let my hand go. He circles my palm with his thumb, appearing to be lost in thought.

  Something near my feet catches my eye, and I look down, wondering what it is. The moonlight has slipped out from behind a cloud, highlighting a small bronzed plaque. The message inscribed and the small cherub depicted in the top right-hand corner have tears instantly welling in my eyes.

  Leave Room in the Garden for the Angels to Dance.

  A towering rose bush in a dazzling shade of red grows just behind the plaque. This rose is the leader of the pack. This is the sight June looks upon every day from her office window. Realization of just what this place is hits home, and suddenly, I can’t help but feel so alone.

  A tear slides down my cheek. “Each rose represents someone who has…died, doesn’t it?”

  His silence says it all. The crisp smelling air suddenly turns sickly sweet.

  There are countless roses, each bush standing in place for a once living, breathing soul. “There are so many of them.”

  He tightens his hold, squeezing tight.

  This commemorative garden is what June sees when she looks out her picture-perfect window—all the people she’s lost. The red rose, the centerpiece, I know was the first one planted. It was in honor of her daughter.

  “That’s for June’s daughter?” I gesture with my quivering chin to the prevailing rose.

  Roman nods, his head bowed. He looks so unbelievably sad. “June planted that rose with her bare hands and nothing else. She didn’t want her daughter to be alone, so that’s why this place exists.”

  “And you tend to it?” He nods once again. “Did you know them?”

  His pause is poignant. “Most of them, yes. It’s my way of remembering them and never forgetting the impact they had on the world.”

  By this stage, tears are streaming down my cheeks. The thought is so tragically beautiful.

  June loved each and every one, and to show that love, she welcomed them into her family. And for Roman to tend to each plant so lovingly reveals that he loved them too.

  Being surrounded by such beauty and knowing what each represents has me expressing something aloud that plagues my heart every day. “P-promise me you’ll plant me a red rose.” I squeeze my pocket where Georgia’s bandana lays. “It was my best friend’s favorite color.”

  Roman hisses a breath through his teeth, his hold on my hand becoming tighter.

  “Promise me,” I whisper when he doesn’t reply.

  His chest rises and falls, and his face…the broken look on his face hurts more than the thought of my own death.

  “No,” he says with only raw emotion.

  “No?” I query, not understanding why he would refuse this one final request.

  “No, Lola, I won’t.” His conviction is clear.

  Before I question why, he staggers forward, placing his large tremulous hand on my cheek. “I’ll plant you a sunflower instead.” He rubs his thumb over the apple of my cheek, wiping away my tears.

  My eyes widen. “W-why would you do that?”

  “Because…” He swallows, taking two steadying breaths. “You’re different. You stand out from the crowd, and you deserve that, in this lifetime and the next.”

  A sob rattles in my chest. No one has ever said something so beautiful to me before. At this moment, I feel treasured, and whatever happens, I’ll never forget that feeling for as long as I…live.

  Live.

  And just like that…my decision has never been clearer. It was hidden beneath murky waters, but now, I can reach it.

  I can see it.

  I want it.

  “Okay,” I whisper slowly.

  Roman’s hand is still pressed to my cheek, so I can feel the tremor pass through his body.

  “Okay?” he questions, his eyebrows knitted together.

  “I’ll do it.”

  His eyes search every inch of my face. “Do what?” He knows what, but he needs to be sure.

  Licking my suddenly dry lips, I reply with sincerity, “Live.”

  Tension crackles between us, setting me on fire. My decision seems to have unlocked a door for us both, and I feel like we’ve just unearthed something that will change our lives forever.

  “You’re sure?”

  “No, but someone made me realize something.” He cocks his head to the side, waiting for me to explain. “Better I die fighting than die without a fight.”

  He closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds, before allowing me a front row seat into his soul. He looks relieved, but most of all, he looks hopeful.

  “I won’t go to the hospital, though. I can’t do that again.”

  He nods immediately. “You can do the trials here. I will take care of everything.”

  “Everything?” I know what I’m asking, but I need to know.

  That overwhelming static bounces between us, and I know something is changing. I can taste it in the heavens. He caresses my cheek with a tender touch and corrects hoarsely, “I will take care…of you.”

  And I believe him.

  I turn into his touch, closing my eyes, and bask in this stillness. There is no more white noise.

  There is nothing left to say because I’ve made my choice, and I’m sticking to it. Whether I succeed or fail, it doesn’t matter. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

  I’ve just taken mine.

  “Are you helping Tamara this morning?”

  My breakfast bears a resemblance to abstract art as I prod at it with my spoon. Humming under my breath, I scoop outward to construct a beard on my oatmeal Santa.

  “Earth to Lola!” Snap. Snap.

  Zoe’s clicking reminds me I have company, and that I have totally spaced.

  Shaking my head, I gingerly meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Zoe. I’m just a little…distracted.”

  “I can see that. Want to talk about it?”

  “No!” I nearly yell.

  My spoon catapults from my grip and skids along the table. Zoe looks down at it, then up at me. She hands it back as I cringe in my seat. The trials haven’t even started, and I’m already buckling under the pressure. I have no idea how I’ll keep this a secret.

  Last night was intense, the most intense night of my life.

  After Roman promised he’d take care of me, I went back to my room, confused and scared. This was a normal response, of course, considering I’d just done a 360 on a decision previously set in stone.

  Hope seems to brighten the darkest of spaces, and that’s what I have. Hope this will work.

  It may be a false sense of security, but
having Roman with me every step of the way has changed my outlook. He said he’d organize everything, and we’ll start as soon as possible.

  We both agreed not to tell a soul as it’s best we keep this between us. Although he’s qualified and licensed to do the trials, it’s not standard protocol to perform them outside a hospital. Not to mention, I’m a volunteer here.

  I hate to put him in such a position, but the thought of doing this in a hospital is unbearable.

  From the research I’ve done, the side effects are similar to the first set of trials. I don’t expect Roman to be on hand twenty-four seven because things can get ugly, and honestly, I’d rather he wasn’t there to witness me puking my guts up. It’s not going to be easy, but it never is.

  My phone vibrates on the tabletop beside me.

  Ready when you are.

  My heart hastens because I didn’t think Roman could organize everything this quickly. Was he up all night? Either way, this is happening. And it’s happening right now.

  “Everything all right?” Zoe asks.

  “Y-yes, fine. I just have to do something. I’ll catch you later?” I hate keeping Zoe in the dark, but it’s better this way.

  “Sure.” We say our goodbyes.

  Needing a moment to catch my breath, I peer down at my phone, my fingers wavering over the buttons. This is my last chance to back out. Once I agree, it begins, and there’s no turning back. My life from this moment forward changes forever. But I won’t know whether it’s for the better unless I try.

  Roman’s message stares back at me, the innocent phrase never seeming more important. Thinking back to standing among the roses and remembering all the lives lost, I let go of my reservations because I’m not ready to be planted among them.

  My reply may not be poetic, but it amounts to a thousand words.

  I’m ready.

  And I am. There is nothing more I can say because, in this circumstance, actions speak louder than words.

  With that thought in mind, I pocket my cell and turn, determined to see this through. My willpower diminishes, however, when I see Tamara standing a few feet away.