Violets are not Blue

by Melissa Toppen

  “You’re a shit liar, you know that?” She laughs. “And for the record, I don’t object to this little union.”

  “There is no union.”

  “I’m just saying, I like the idea of you two together. Even if you’re not together, together.” She grins. “I always knew deep down you liked the guy.”

  “But I didn’t. That’s just it. But the more time I spend with him the more I realize just how wrong I was about him.”

  “I told you he’s a good guy.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that no one likes an I told you so?”

  “Just wait until you get hitched and pop out some equally gorgeous babies. My I told you so’s will be endless.” She smirks.

  “Now that’s funny.” I shake my head at her, pushing to my feet. “I’m starving. Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, I actually have to get going. I’m meeting Mom and Shari for lunch. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you weren’t dead, but once I saw Harris here, I couldn’t leave until I knew what the hell had happened.” She scoots to the end of the couch before standing. “But if you want to join us I’m sure my mom would love to see you,” she offers as I follow her toward the door.

  “Thanks for the offer but I think I’m gonna hang out here today.”

  “Uh huh. Sure you are.” She gives me a knowing look as she pulls open the door and steps into the hallway.

  “I’m serious, Hannah.”

  “I hear ya,” she sing songs. “Just remember what I said.” She starts humming the wedding march as she does a slow walk toward the elevator.

  “You are no longer my friend,” I call after her.

  “Whatever. You love me and you know it.” She laughs, throwing me a wave over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

  I close the door behind her and collapse against it, resting my forehead against the hard wood.

  Visions of Harris flood my mind. The sight of him coming undone beneath me in the car will probably go down in history as one of my top memories of all time.

  There was something so consuming about knowing he had never been with a girl like that before. That I was giving him a first he had never experienced. It made me feel sexy and powerful in a way I never have before. And while I have only ever had sex with one other person without one, my ex-fiancé whose name I refuse to think of right now, there was something incredibly special about sharing that moment with Harris.

  When I agreed to this bet just ten short days ago, I never dreamed this is where it would lead. And even though I know that it can’t last, I have to admit that I’m really enjoying myself. And it’s not just the sex. It’s Harris as a whole.

  He’s surprisingly sweet and caring. He makes me feel wanted and special. And he makes me laugh. God, does he make me laugh. I swear I’ve never laughed with someone more than I have with Harris. Well, except maybe with Hannah but that’s different.

  I’m startled out of my thoughts by the sound of my phone ringing. Pushing away from the door, I cross the room to where the device is vibrating on top of the kitchen countertop. I smile when I see MOM flashing across the screen.

  “Hey, Mom.” I feel like it’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to her or my father, even though I just spoke to both of them on Wednesday.

  “Blue.” My mom’s voice sounds strained and I immediately know something is wrong.

  “Mom, what is it? What’s going on?”

  “It’s Dad.” My heart drops into my stomach. “He’s in the hospital. They think he’s having a heart attack,” she chokes, fear the clearest emotion I can hear.

  “What do you mean they think? What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” She sniffs. “He was out working in the garage this morning. I came out to bring him a cup of coffee and found him on the ground. He was conscious but having trouble breathing, so I called 911 and they took him away in an ambulance. He’s with the doctors now but I don’t know anything more.”

  “I’m going to get on the first flight I can. Just stay calm and call me as soon as you know anything.” I wait for her to agree before hanging up the phone and making a mad dash into my bedroom to pack a quick bag.

  I don’t really think about what I’m putting inside. I start shoving random clothes into the duffel, my heart pounding and my mind racing.

  Please not Dad.

  It’s all I can think.

  Not my dad.

  ——

  By the grace of god I was able to get a nonstop flight to Clearwater later that evening, spending the entire three-hour flight an absolute nervous wreck. It wasn’t until I stepped into the hospital and saw my mom that I felt like I could breathe again.

  She informed me that it was in fact a heart attack but it was mild and they would be putting two stents in his heart tomorrow morning in hopes of preventing a more severe one in the future.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. I hadn’t been able to think about anything else except getting to my dad and making sure he was okay.

  Now, sitting next to his hospital bed as he sleeps, I realize just how lucky I am that it wasn’t worse. This situation could have turned out so differently and I am so grateful to the paramedics and doctors for taking such good care of him.

  I stretch out in the uncomfortable chair, my back feeling tight and sore, before leaning down to retrieve my purse on the floor. Digging for my cell phone, I pull it out, realizing that I still have it in airplane mode. Switching it off, I pull up my boss’ number and hit call. I know he isn’t in the office, considering it’s almost eleven o’clock at night, but I’d rather leave him a message now than forget to call in the morning.

  My mom went home for the evening. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to leave, but after reassuring her that I would stay the night at the hospital and call her if anything happened, she finally agreed. I think she knew there was no way she was going to be able to sleep in a chair given her back issues. And after the day she had, she needed a good night’s rest.

  I still think she felt bad leaving, and I understand why. But if she’s going to help nurse Dad back to health, she has to take care of herself. Sometimes I feel extremely guilty for not moving down here with them like they’d asked me to. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me wanted to. But Boston is my home. I didn’t want to leave my job or my friends. My whole life is there.

  Harris crosses my mind for the briefest of moments before my boss’ voicemail picks up, drawing me back. I leave a quick message, letting him know I will be out of the office tomorrow and Tuesday and that I’d let him know by Wednesday if I had an idea of when I would be back in town.

  When I hang up, I see that I have six text messages. Clicking on the message box, I’m not surprised to see that all six are from Harris.

  Harris: It’s only been five hours since I’ve seen you and already I’m having withdrawals.

  Harris: Come over tonight. I’ll order from that Chinese restaurant you seem to like so much and we can continue our conversation about who’s the best Avenger. I’ve got a hankering to watch Thor.

  I laugh at that one.

  Harris: Hello? Are you going to answer me?

  Harris: I’m going to tell myself you’re really busy and not ghosting me. Call me when you get these.

  The last one was sent twenty minutes ago.

  Harris: I’m starting to freak out a little and you’re making me feel very clinger-ish over here. Please text me that you’re okay.

  Not wanting him to worry, I type up a quick message and fire it off.

  Me: Sorry, I wasn’t avoiding you. I had my phone in airplane mode and I just got your messages. I’m actually in Florida right now. Something happened with my dad. I’ll explain when I see you next.

  My phone rings less than a minute later and I quickly move to silence the ringer, not wanting to wake my dad. Standing, I hold the device to my chest as I slip out into the hallway.

  “Hello,” I answer in a hushed
tone.

  “Is everything okay?” Harris asks, concern evident in his voice.

  “It will be. My dad had a mild heart attack. My mom called me when they arrived at the hospital. I didn’t have time to let anyone know I was leaving. I just had to get here.”

  “I completely understand. I would have done the same thing,” he says and I’m reminded that neither of his parents are still living. A sadness I didn’t expect to feel floods my chest. “Is he okay? What did the doctors say?”

  “He’s good. He’s sleeping now. He has a couple blockages so they’re going to put some stents in tomorrow. They haven’t said how long they are going to keep him, but the way they talked it wouldn’t be more than a couple of days. Assuming the procedure goes smoothly and his test results come back good.”

  “Well that’s good news. Are you at the hospital right now?”

  “Yeah, I made my mom go home to get some rest. I’m going to stay the night here and keep an eye on things.”

  “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do? Do you need me to let work know?”

  “I already called and left a message at work, but if you could let Hannah know in the morning I would really appreciate it. I don’t want to bother her this late.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks, Harris.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” His eagerness to offer help is really appreciated, but considering less than two weeks ago we were practically strangers it feels weird to be including him in such a personal thing.

  “No, I think I’m good.”

  “Well, if you think of anything, anything at all, you’ll call?”

  “I will. I should probably get back to my dad.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye.” I hang up the phone without waiting for a response.

  “Who was that?” I jump at the sound of my mom’s voice, turning to see her standing behind me.

  “Mom!” I exclaim. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going home to rest.”

  “I tried, but as soon as I got home all I wanted to do was come back. That’s my husband in there.” She gives me a sad smile, causing wrinkles to bunch around her eyes.

  It’s only been a couple of months since I last saw my parents but it feels like it’s been so much longer.

  I’m every bit my mom. If she were younger you would swear we were twins. We have the same blonde hair, though hers is now mostly gray. The same blue eyes. The same nose. We’re even built the same, though she’s a little heavier than I am now, and we both stand at exactly five-four. But personality wise I am one hundred percent my father. Independent, smart mouthed, and about as stubborn as they come.

  “Well you should have stayed at home. I told you, I’ve got this under control.”

  “I know you do, honey, but one day when you’re married you’ll understand.”

  I refrain from telling her that I have no intention of ever getting married. She’s still holding out for a wedding and grandbabies. I’ve never had the heart to tell her that I don’t want either of those things anymore.

  “I get it. He’s sleeping right now.” I gesture to my father’s door.

  “Who were you talking to on the phone?” she asks her original question again, her eyes going to the device clutched in my hand before coming back to my face.

  “No one. Just a friend from work. I had to let someone know that I wouldn’t be in for the next couple of days.”

  Her face falls slightly.

  “I’m so sorry to have you come all the way down here. I just... It seemed really serious. If you could have seen him laying on that floor fighting for air. It was the scariest moment of my life.”

  “Mom.” I reach for her, pulling her into a hug. “He’s going to be okay,” I reassure her, holding her for a long moment before finally stepping back. “And don’t apologize for calling me. I came because I wanted to be here.”

  “I know. But you have a life and a job and you can’t just pick up on a whim and fly hundreds of miles every time Dad or I have a health scare. We’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “Which is exactly why I will always drop everything to be here for you. You’re my parents. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I think you’ve got that backward, honey. I think it’s our job to make sure you’re okay.”

  “When I was young, yes. Now, the roles reverse,” I tell her matter of factly.

  “I’m so proud of you. I hope you know that. You really have grown into such a beautiful and strong young woman.”

  “I’m not really sure I can be classified as young anymore, but thanks, Mom. That really means a lot.”

  “Thirty-two is still young. Besides, it doesn’t matter how old you are, you will always be my baby.” She wraps her fingers around my hand and squeezes. “Come on, let’s go check on Dad.” She smiles before stepping past me.

  I follow her inside and we spend the next two hours catching up on life. I purposely avoid telling her anything about Harris. What’s the point? I don’t want to get her hopes up when I already know where this is going. Even if Harris is serious and he wants something long term, I’m not at a point in my life that I’m ready for that. I’m pretty certain I never will be.

  I sometimes wonder if James hadn’t cheated and things hadn’t ended the way they did, or if Dylan hadn’t cheated on me with my best friend in high school, if I would feel differently about love.

  It’s not that I’m immune to it or I have some kind of special ability to turn it off, because I don’t. I simply make the conscious decision to rule with my head and not my heart. In doing so, the last few years have been easier and less complicated than ever before.

  I thought it would be difficult, giving up what I thought I wanted for a simpler life, but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s been one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. Or at least it was until Harris entered the picture with his incredibly good looks and charming personality. It’s in the small moments with him that I see the things I’m missing. The things I had forgotten about in regard to love. Like how it feels to have someone look at me the way he looks at me.

  Right after one in the morning I decide to head down to the cafeteria to raid the vending machines. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten, though I hadn’t been hungry until recently. After grabbing a Diet Mountain Dew, a bag of pretzels, and two candy bars, one for me and one for my mom, I head back upstairs, finding my mom fast asleep, curled up in the bed next to my dad.

  I shake my head at the two of them. Even in the hospital, neither of them can sleep well without the other. Again, Harris enters my mind. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to escape the thought of him. It’s like all of a sudden he’s everywhere, and try as I might, I can’t seem to shake him.

  ——

  I don’t know what time I dozed off, or how long I slept, but when my eyes flutter open there’s daylight. I straighten in my seat, noticing that my dad’s bed is empty and my mom is nowhere in sight.

  Looking to my left, I see a large bouquet of red and blue flowers, complete with a crystal vase.

  My stomach instantly drops.

  “You’re awake.” I jump when my mom pushes her way into the room, a cup of coffee in her hand.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.

  “They took him downstairs to run a few tests before his procedure.” She crosses the room and takes the seat next to me before turning her gaze to the flowers. “These came for you this morning. I didn’t want to wake you so I told the delivery guy to leave them here.” A small smile plays on her lips. “So, are you going to tell me who Harris is?”

  “What?” I croak, not nearly awake enough for this conversation.

  “The name on the card says Harris.”

  “You read the card?” My mouth goes dry.

  “Well, how else was I supposed t
o know who they were from?” She takes a tentative sip of her coffee as she looks at me, clearly waiting for some sort of explanation. “I have to say, he seems quite sweet. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

  “Mom,” I groan. “He’s just some guy I work with. We aren’t dating.” I reach over and pull the small envelope out of the center of the flowers. Peeling it open, my eyes scan the card several times over as I try to keep my reaction from showing on my face.

  Roses may be red,

  but violets are not BLUE.

  Whether you want me to or not

  I’ll always be here for you.

  Harris

  P.S. Please send your father my best.

  P.P.S. Am I winning yet?

  Despite my best efforts, a smile still manages to touch my lips. It’s brief and fleeting, but my mother doesn’t miss it.

  “So, do I have to ask again or are you going to tell me who this man is and why he’s sending you flowers and love poems.”

  “Mom, it’s not a love poem. He’s just a friend from work.”

  “That doesn’t seem like something a friend would send to another friend. I know times have changed, but lord, I don’t think they’ve changed that much.” She gives me that look that only a mom can give you. The one that says she grew you inside her body, birthed you and raised you for eighteen years, so give her a little credit. “Come on. I’m sick to death worrying over your father. Distract me for a few minutes.”

  “There’s really nothing to tell. We really are just friends.” Lies, so many lies.

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s my friend. Yeah, I like him.”

  “Not what I meant and you know it.”

  “I do. He’s really nice and funny. But no.” I point at her face. “Don’t look at me like that. We are not dating nor are we going to.”

  “Well why not? You like him and I think it’s pretty obvious,” she gestures to the flowers before continuing, “that he likes you, too.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “Can we talk about this later?” I plead. I really don’t know what to say to her right now. It’s not like I can tell my mom that I made a stupid bet with a womanizing playboy and now we happen to be sleeping together. I’m sure that would go over really well.