by Gina Azzi
“And this brings me to my third photograph.” I study the photo for a moment. It’s difficult to make out what it is since it’s such a close up. But if you do take the time to study the picture, you can tell that it’s the yarn of blankets, in the pale pastels that comprise a nursery. A soft pink, a light yellow, a muted blue, a sweet green. The yarn is knitted in different patterns and the colors blend together with bits of white running through them, separating them, joining them. “I took this photo using the macro mode and no flash. I used the timer and a tripod to ensure no movement. This is a photograph of baby blankets, representing broken dreams.” I gulp at the air then, trying to keep my tears checked. And while I’m not going to share with my class about the loss of my baby, it didn’t feel right overlook the role he or she played in my healing process. Because the truth is that my baby helped me find hope for the future again, my baby gave me a moment of clarity, a purpose, that spurred my healing journey. “When we are babies,” I continue, my voice steady once more, “our parents have all of these amazing dreams for us. For the people we will grow into, for the things we will accomplish, for the passions we will embrace. As we grow older, those dreams shift and change and develop. And sometimes, those dreams are cut short completely. But for that short amount time while we are wrapped tight in the soft blankets of our childhood, anything seems possible, everything within reach. And nothing is really broken. Until we break it ourselves.” I take a step forward, clasping my hands in front of me. “And strangely, sometimes it’s the loss of a dream, the loss of an expectation that gives us the clarity and the strength to move forward. For me, this photograph represents loss just as much as it represents hope. And for me, this photo is meant to heal broken.”
I exhale slowly and walk over to the final photograph. It’s a series of four oars slicing through the Schuylkill River, interrupting its smoothness, its calm, and creating a ripple. I explain the slow shutter speed and small aperture I used to capture the droplets of water dripping from the oars, falling back to the water. “This is a photograph I took of the LaFarge men’s team practicing. My brother rowed for LaFarge. In the photo we can see the oars slicing through the water, breaking its flat surface, turning a smooth surface into a choppy, tumultuous one. I chose to take this photo for several reasons. After Adrian’s death, after I broke, rowing seemed like both a curse and a salvation to me. It was a curse because it tied me to so many memories I had of my brother, some I was trying to forget. And it was a salvation because it tied me to so many memories I had of my brother, some I would give anything to remember in perfect clarity. Rowing was always the thing I turned to when I couldn’t shut my mind off, it instills me with a peaceful clarity, a calmness that helps me process, helps me make sense of things. It was an important component in trying to mend some of the cracks I was struggling with. And lastly, I always loved that moment, the one at the start where all the boats are lined up. The sun is shining down on us and for an instant, everything is perfectly still. Sounds cease, the shells are in a perfectly straight line, and even the water stops moving. It’s this complete calmness before utter chaos begins. A sort of calm before the storm. A moment of still before the moment breaks.” I smile openly and it feels genuine. “But the moment of crazy chaos that comes afterwards is amazing. And I’ve learned this semester, especially through this assignment that sometimes broken is beautiful and that being broken, feeling pain and anguish and despair, can eventually make you really, fully whole. Thank you.”
I stand still as the class drinks in my photographs for one more moment before applause breaks out. Professor Minela comes forward and wraps an arm around my shoulders as my classmates continue to clap before Q and A.
I release a shaky breath and smile, relieved that my presentation is over, pleased with the overall outcome of my final project, and finally feeling like some of my jagged, broken pieces are starting to fit back together.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Zack
It’s strange, that moment when you walk into a home you’ve been in a thousand times, sometimes treated like your own, and everything is suddenly different. Or maybe you’re just different. That’s the way it feels as I walk into the Rodriguez home at Maura’s side. It’s as if the million memories of me sitting at the dinner table as Adrian’s friend, sleeping over and helping myself to coffee in the morning, spending holidays with the family, chatting with Adrian’s aunts and laughing with his cousins never really happened. Because now I’m not here as Adrian’s best friend but as Maura’s boyfriend. And everything suddenly feels different even though the house is exactly the same.
I was surprise when Maura asked me to have dinner with her and her parents. I know she really pulled away from them after Adrian passed. She barely brought them up in conversations and when she did, it was with a grimace. But I guess part of the healing process, part of moving forward, is making amends. And so here we are, standing in the foyer of the Rodriguez family home.
Mr. Rodriguez shakes my hand firmly, his eyes curious as to why I’m here with Maura. Mrs. Rodriguez seems elated to see me, pulling me into a hug that feels motherly and familiar. “I’m so happy you guys are here for dinner. I was so surprised but happy when Maura called to tell me she was coming over tonight. And bringing you with her!” she gushes sincerely.
Mr. Rodriguez nods in agreement, his eyes still watching me carefully.
Mrs. Rodriguez beckons us to enter and sit in the living room. “How are finals going, Maura?” And before Maura can answer, “How are you Zackary? It’s so good to see you again.”
Maura smiles and places her hand over mine before me tugging me down next to her on the couch. “Finals are great, Mom. And I wanted to come home for dinner tonight to see you guys and to introduce you and Dad to my boyfriend.” She drops the news like bombshell, and I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing. Way to go, Maura! No lead-up there. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez.
I watch them closely for their reactions as I keep Maura’s hand tucked in my own.
Mrs. Rodriguez’s face lights up, “Oh my God! You and Zack?” she exclaims, her hand covering her mouth momentarily as her eyes dart between Maura and me. “Why, that’s the best news I’ve heard in ages!” She’s up again, walking over to us and enveloping us in a huge hug, pushing the three of our head together.
This time I do laugh.
“Thanks, Mrs. R,” I tell her sincerely.
We all look to Mr. R. He’s quiet, eyeing me speculatively, studying my face for the truth as to my intentions. I remove myself from Mrs. R’s embrace and begin to stand. Mrs. R’s arm shoots out to stop my movement as she turns to Mr. R and snaps him out of his trance. “Henry?”
He shakes his head slowly before a small smile works his way across his lips. “I’m just surprised is all,” he clarifies. “You sure about him, mi melon di corazon?” he asks Maura.
She nods seriously, smiling at the endearment.
“Well then …” He walks toward me and I meet him halfway. He throws an arm around my shoulder. “You always were part of this family, son. It’s good to have you back at the dinner table.”
I breathe out in relief and thank him.
And with that we all move our way into the dining room to sit around the large table and consume the delicious, home-cooked meal that Mrs. R prepared.
Drinking wine and filling my plate with roasted pork, plantains, and rice, we talk about rowing, about politics, about mine and Maura’s plans after graduation. And a strange almost déjà vu feeling settles over me as I laugh and talk and smile every now and then over at Maura. Even though everything is familiar, it’s also so different. In some ways it’s better. And I can’t stop the feeling of relief that envelops me as I sit in the Rodriguez home as one of the family again.
* * *
At night Maura and I sit in our usual picnic spot on her bedroom floor and eat the coconut pudding that Mrs. R sent us home with.
“This is delicious.” I say, heaping another sp
oonful into my mouth.
She nods. “Mom was really happy you came for dinner. Before I even told her that we were together. I think she misses you.”
I think about that and nod. It makes sense. Mrs. R has been like a second mother to me, especially with my own family so far away during the school year. And I guess, in a way, I was like her second son. When Adrian died, I sort of disappeared too. I swallow the pudding and try to shake the guilt from my gut. But now I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere this time, no matter what.
“It was really nice to see your parents again. And to eat Mama R’s home cooking.” I take another heaping spoonful of pudding.
Maura laughs. “Yeah. It was weird, right? Like everything felt totally normal even though it’s all different?”
I stare at her for a moment, surprised that she senses that too. “Yes. I kept thinking the same thing. It was almost like déjà vu. I kept expecting Adrian to walk down the stairs.”
She nods. “I know.” She eats a bite of pudding and takes a sip from the coffee she’s drinking. “You know, I’d like to meet your family.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised. “They’re all certifiably crazy. Especially my sister,” I tell her honestly.
She laughs. “I don’t care. I’d like to meet them anyway. I feel like you know so much about me, about my family. Hell, you’re already an honorary Rodriguez. I’ve got some catching up to do.”
I mull over her words, touched that she would want to make a trip all the way to Nebraska. “You know you’ll have to come to a square state for that to happen, right?”
She laughs, blushing furiously. “As long as I don’t have to go cow tipping or whatever you people do for fun.”
I snort, laughing with her. “Don’t worry. We’ll just make you party in a barn, ride ATVs, and shoot a gun.”
Her eyes widen, a streak of panic crossing her face.
“I’m kidding,” I say, laughing at her reaction. Jeez, she’s going to be disappointed when she realizes my family lives in a sub-division that could probably sit in any suburban town in the country. “Come for New Years. Unless you have plans with your friends.”
Her face lights up. “Really? I mean, I don’t have any plans. But would that be okay? Is it too soon? Do you think they’ll like me?”
I reach a hand out to quiet her stream of questions. Who would have thought that steel nerves Maura would be nervous about meeting the Huntington clan? “It would be more than okay. My mom will be over the moon, trust me. She’ll probably make you go to a holiday-themed flea market with her and Pinterest a craft. Trust me, everyone will love you. And it’s definitely not too soon.”
She smiles widely, licking a bit of pudding off her bottom lip. “Then let’s celebrate New Year’s Eve together.”
“I promise I won’t make you drink in a haystack or anything country like that.” I laugh, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips, thankful I’ll get to do just that at the start of the New Year.
“And, after New Year’s, do you want to come to New York with me?” Maura asks, pulling back slightly.
“What’s in New York?”
She scrapes her spoon against the plate, scooping up extra pudding. “Cade planned a reunion for Lila … Well, it’s kind of for all of us … on January 7 in New York. I want you to meet my friends for real, not just in passing at some crew party, but as my boyfriend. Will you come?”
As if that’s even a question. “Of course.”
Maura beams. “Good.”
* * *
“Are you bringing anyone special home for Christmas this year, Zackary?” Mom’s eyes light up as I FaceTime with my family. They’re decorating the massive, oversized, ridiculously large Christmas tree in our living room. Behind the tree, I can make out the candles flickering in the big bay window at the front of our house. Off to the side, mistletoe hangs from the doorway leading to the kitchen. The entire room is washed in reds and greens and golds. I hold back a laugh as Nicole dances behind Mom, her eyes wide with curiosity and Dad rolls his eyes, turning to place a macaroni ornament I made in third grade on the tree.
I shake my head and Mom’s face falls slightly.
“No, Mom, not for Christmas. For New Year’s though,” I tell her, laughing as her face lights back up.
“Really?” she asks, as if she’s unsure if I’m just joking with her.
“Really.” I nod.
“Oh, Zack!” Mom’s hand flies up and over her heart. “That’s lovely, really. Is this Adrian’s sister, Maura?” Her eyes look hopeful.
I try to cut Nicole a look over Mom’s shoulder, but my sister turns and suddenly becomes incredibly interested in the ornaments dangling from the tree.
“Yeah, Mom.”
Mom nods. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet her. Don’t worry, we won’t scare her off.”
Nicole turns at this and flashes me an evil grin, tapping her finger tips together mischievously behind Mom’s back.
Dad snorts and does a weird dance in the background.
Yeah right. My family is going to go to great lengths to embarrass the hell out of me.
“Sure,” I say.
“I’ll start preparing the guest room.” Mom smiles.
“Mom, it’s weeks from now.”
“Oh, Zackary.” She waves a hand at me. “It has to be perfect.”
I shake my head but smile at her anyway.
Just getting to kiss Maura at midnight on New Year’s Eve is all the perfect I need.
* * *
I turn in my last final exam and breathe a sigh of relief. This semester kicked my ass with classes, and I am so freaking happy to be done. One more semester left. I studied my ass off for these exams and as they all count for thirty-five percent or more of my final grade, there’s still a slim chance I will maintain a B average for the semester. God, I hope so.
I leave the Architecture building and pull my hoodie up over my head. It’s bitterly cold out but the bite in the air does little to dampen my spirits. I’m done with finals and tomorrow, Maura and I board a flight to Boston. Just the two of us. Our own adventure, as she says.
“Zack! Zack, wait up.”
I turn around to see who’s calling my name and nearly collide with Lauren. My hands shoot out to steady her before she falls.
“Hey,” I say gruffly, unsure what she could possibly have to say to me after the way things with us ended last time.
“Hi,” she says shyly, smiling sweetly.
I narrow my eyes. Now that I’m onto Lauren, her sweetness, which I used to find adorable, intoxicating at times, makes me uneasy.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she says softly.
Huh? She wants to apologize? After all the shitty things she said, threatened to do.
“I was wrong for the way I treated you this semester. I just … I love you, Zack.” She looks up at me then and her eyes are sincere, truth shining from their depths. She offers a sad smile. “I always thought we’d end up together, you know?”
I don’t say anything and just watch the emotions play out over her face, letting her say whatever it she needs to get off her chest.
She sighs. “Look, I get that how I handled everything was wrong. It was desperate. And I shouldn’t have tried to manipulate you or threaten your future with Maura. I was jealous.” She shrugs. “Anyway, just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. And Merry Christmas.” She smiles again, her fingers going up to touch the pendant on her necklace. Two interlocking hearts. Once mine and hers.
I groan inwardly. It’s hard to just erase someone from your life because they messed up. A bunch of good moments, happy memories that Lauren and I shared flash through my mind. And really, now that Maura and I are together, I’m not even that upset by her past actions, her behavior. Because now Lauren doesn’t really mean much more to me than a sweet romance I had in college. Maura, she’s my future.
So I release Lauren from her guilt. I forgive her and move on.
Just as she turns
to walk away, I reach out an arm and place it on her shoulder. She looks at me hopefully. Offering a lopsided grin, I nod my thanks. “Merry Christmas, Lauren.”
And with that closure also in place, I head home to pack for Boston.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Maura
The air outside even looks cold as our plane descends over Boston Harbor and prepares for landing. The sky is gray with a gloomy chill of rain hovering over the city limits before disappearing into a fog. I clutch Zack’s hand on the armrest next to me as the plane slowly cuts through the fog, the lights on the wings blinking.
“Nervous?” he asks with a smirk, flipping his hand under mind and lacing our fingers together.
I roll my eyes. “Not much of a flier.”
He chuckles, glancing at my white knuckles locked in his hand. “No kidding?”
“Shut up.” I squeeze his hand but the laugh that falls from my lips eases the tension in my neck and shoulders. “We never flew much growing up. Before going to McShain, I’d only ever been on a plane when we would visit Puerto Rico every few summers.”
He nods. “Yeah, we didn’t fly a ton growing up either. Not until Nicole and I got older. Then all of a sudden Mom got this travel bug and insisted we see the country as a family.” He laughs. “We would take these random trips to places like Minnesota and Idaho while everyone else was going skiing in Aspen or to New York.”
I smile again. Zack talks about his family a lot. I’m not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it, but whenever he tells a funny story about his sister or mentions his parents, a warm look crosses his face and a smirk raises the left side of his lips into an almost-smile. He’s obviously close with them. Kind of like how Adrian and I used to be, and Mom and Dad and I. The past nine months have been incredibly hard on my family, but I think we’re on our way to mending the hurt, closing the distance that’s been separating us. And if I’m being honest, a lot of that was my fault anyway. I’m happy we’re working our way back to being a unit. I know it’s what Adrian would want for us all.
