Garden of Goodbyes
Page 3
Lennox said the rest of his goodbyes and politely bowed his head in the direction of Violet.
As happy as I was to be on our way and put those few minutes of doubt behind me, I couldn’t help but notice Violet’s displeasure with the whole scenario. I could’ve acted like a bitch, scolded her, given her a piece of my mind. Anyone would have, but that was exactly what she was looking for—a rise out of me. While toying with Lennox was a low blow and a big time violation of girl code, I thought it best to take the high road and keep with the terms I set when I announced it was better if we didn’t talk for a while.
“Violet,” I said, a greeting and a sendoff all rolled into one.
“Eden.” She mirrored my tone, clearly holding back what she really wanted to say to me.
With that, we left her in our wake and headed out to begin what would hopefully be the first of many nights spent making up for lost time and planning our future.
“You know her?” Lennox asked as we made our way through the restaurant.
“Yeah,” was all I cared to say.
He kissed the top of my head again and pulled me close to the warm familiarity of his body, where I fit. Where I belonged.
“Do me a favor?” I asked, nestling closer.
“Anything, baby.”
“Stay away from her, Lennox. She’s trouble.”
Past
WHAT SHOULD’VE BEEN A BLISSFUL homecoming for Lennox and me was cut short by my unease with the Violet scene back at the restaurant. I thought seeing him for the first time in months would trump all other emotions, no matter how erratic, but even after we made the sweetest love, caught up on what was happening in our daily lives, and cuddled in the safety of each other’s arms the way we used to each night when he lived at home, I had a desperate need to clear the air for once and for all.
“You okay, baby? You seem off.” He twirled the strands of my hair around his middle finger, his other hand holding his head up against a plush, oversized pillow.
I hated to lie to him, but there was no need to spoil the little time we had together with my plague of inescapable insecurities. I tapped his nose and smiled the brightest grin I could muster. “Nothing to worry about, QB. William was his regular passed out self when I left earlier and I should probably get home to make sure he’s still breathing.”
Lennox grumbled and threw out a few choice words for my father. To say William wasn’t exactly his favorite person was an understatement, but then again, he was only taking me at my word. I spared my boyfriend the unpleasant details of my screwed up family; I wanted to keep him, not scare him off. There was no need for him to meet them. Ever. They wouldn’t be a part of my life once we were out of here, anyway—Lennox insisted time and again. He wanted to make sure I was safe, warn my father not to do anything stupid, tell my sister to step up to the plate and take the load off me—but I’d found a way to divert his attention elsewhere until now.
“I can come with you.” He shot up into a sitting position. “We can sleep at your place for once. I can make sure nothing happens with your old man.”
It was the same tune every time. A melody I chose to ignore, no matter how enticing it would be to have Lennox ward off the big, bad, ugly monster that was William Hayward.
“No, Lennox. It’s okay. He’s probably still in the same spot I left him. If I need you, you know you’re the first person I’ll call.” I kissed him once more, lingering when his hands cupped my face and his tongue delved deeper. He wanted me to stay and I wanted more than anything to submit, but there was something I had to take care of before I could have any form of peace of mind.
I should’ve just told him how I felt about the whole Violet thing. But if I said anything to Lennox about what was bothering me, he’d think it was silly. We never did the jealous thing. We had no reason for it. I only had eyes for him and he for me. Long distance was hard, but we trusted each other, and Lennox made it clear that falling for someone else was equivalent to pigs flying. We’re written in the stars, Edie, destined to be together forever.
So why was I harping on this? Why? Because we were talking about Violet. I’d purposely gone out of my way to keep her and Lennox away from each other. Violet didn’t play by the rules and if she and I were clashing—like we were right now—all bets were off. I’d known her her whole life. She was ruthless. Violet always hit below the belt and went for the jugular. It was exactly what I walked in on tonight at the restaurant and, call me crazy, but I wanted to keep my jugular, and Lennox’s, intact.
It was a small miracle that I had any benevolence at all left for the girl. I guess I was the kind of person who liked to see the good in people, no matter how deep it was buried underneath bad decisions and malicious actions. It wasn’t always like this with Violet. That’s why I hung on to hope that this was merely another episode of her acting out and that things would go back to an enjoyable normal once we had a chat.
It was tough to leave him, but I made the decision to come home anyway. I opened the fridge for a snack, but gave up almost as quickly. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t tired, either, so I found myself sitting at the beat up kitchen table, fingering the warped grain of the oak surface. The humming of the rusty old fridge interrupted my train of thought from time to time. With my head down and my leg tapping at an endless pace, my jaw clenched as I played out in my mind exactly what I wanted to say to Violet when finally given the chance—if ever.
He’s my man! Stay away!
You’ve gone too far this time.
Leave us alone for good, already. I’m done with you.
Every last word, phrase, and rant I could think of sounded too harsh, yet far too forgiving at the same time. I wanted her to understand—clearly—that Lennox was off limits. I wanted her to understand—unquestionably—that her disregard for our relationship and my feelings stung like a slap across the face. I wanted her to understand—unmistakably—that she’d gone way too far and it was never to happen again. Lennox Dean and Violet Hayward were not supposed to cross paths. Not then, not now, not ever.
I had no idea how long I’d been sitting there stewing when she finally stumbled through the front door. Violet didn’t just walk into a room—she made an entrance. Whether it be her choice of risqué clothing, or lack thereof, the varying state of her non-existent sobriety, or her constant need to make some kind of noise. This time, it was all of the above.
Her black uniform tank top was tied in a knot right beneath her boobs, revealing her pierced midriff. She’d changed from work shorts to a tight leather skirt that exposed the rounded bottoms of pert ass cheeks. Her pink-tipped hair was a mess of snarled clumps covering the smeared streaks of eye liner that had accumulated under her heavy-lidded eyes as she bellowed an unrecognizable song. Nothing new. Business as usual. A typical night out for our guest of honor here.
When she spotted me, she stiffened but then immediately narrowed her eyes and slurred, “Well, well, well! Under the same roof again. To what do we owe this honor?” She swayed as she made her way to me, the pungent smell of alcohol wafting off of her with such potency I could probably get drunk off her stench alone.
“Cut your shit. I know what you’re doing.”
“And how, pray tell, would you know that? You’ve cut me off. I’m no one to you, remember?” Her condescending tone almost made me gag. Drunk or high or whatever the hell she was, she knew exactly how to push my buttons.
“Listen to me.” I stood, getting right in her face. Violet faltered backwards, nearly losing her footing before grabbing one of the mismatched kitchen chairs for support. “Do not go near Lennox again!”
The words flew from my mouth with such velocity my head nearly spun. It was ultimately all I wanted. Violet could be in my world, but not his. My little bubble of happiness with Lennox consisted of only the two of us, with the occasional peppering of his snooty parents and our few close friends. Cozying up under a Christmas tree or at a Thanksgiving feast with the Hayward’s would never happen. Not in this li
fetime.
“You’re fucking scared, aren’t you?” Violet ignored the gravity of my demand and looked right through me.
Truth was . . . How could I admit a truth so troubling my heart rate kicked up at the mere thought of confessing? I was scared. She destroyed everything she touched, and I didn’t need her anywhere near Lennox for that exact reason. I wasn’t afraid Lennox would fall for her antics, or even like her as a person, for that matter. He’d see her for what she was, I had no doubt about that. But I knew deep down if she got close to us she would try to ruin what Lennox and I had with her sick, twisted outlook on life.
With an audible gulp and false courage gathered from within, I lied. “I’m not scared at all, Violet.”
Dismissing me, she twirled around the dingy kitchen as if this were a joke, and sang, “Oh, you so are. And you should be, too. I could show your jock a real good time. And I could tell he wanted me to. A change of pace from whatever you’ve been boring him with for the last four years. You’re so rigid and righteous—Saint Eden,” she mocked. “You should’ve seen the way he was looking at me. Devouring me with those hungry green eyes. A devoted man doesn’t do that, Eden. Maybe it’s time I show him the way a Hayward ought to treat a man.”
“You evil bitch!” I lunged at her, yanking her hair and pulling her head back. She squealed at my assault but then laughed as her dilated, bloodshot eyes met mine.
How could she laugh? How could she not see what this was doing to me? Where was the little girl who used to look up to me? Who relied on me in the absence of our mother to be her rock, her everything? Tears pricked my eyes, my nostrils flaring with heat as I released my hold on her tangled hair. “I’m your sister, Violet! Your only fucking sister! Please don’t do this to me. I’ll do anything for you if you leave him—leave us—alone.”
Present
A ROUGH NIGHT BLED INTO a too-bright morning. I left a sleeping Lennox at home to face the day. It wasn’t just any day, though. It was the day of reckoning—aka, my sister would be arriving at our agreed upon meeting spot any minute. Lennox still had no idea. Hell, I could have written it across the sky with one of those fancy planes that do that sort of shit—Eden is coming to town to save your sorry ass—and he still wouldn’t have a fucking clue.
Things were that bad. Obviously. That’s why I called upon Eden in the first place. And even though Lennox was oblivious to the swarm of dread mixed with relief bubbling inside of me, I was only seconds away from either passing out or hightailing it the fuck out of here.
“Another refill?” A plump waitress with a pretty face hovered the half empty pot of coffee over my untouched, still full mug.
“No, thank you,” I managed, guarding the cup and its contents with shaky hands and smiling one of those would-you-just-leave-me-alone smiles.
She got the hint and walked off, only to ask the same question to the elderly couple sitting a few booths in front of me. I rolled my eyes, hating that I was so irritated by this woman who was merely doing her job. It wasn’t her fault that what I wanted her to top my coffee off with was inappropriate this early in the morning. Inappropriate for someone trying to stay clean.
That in and of itself was a problem. Staying clean. I hadn’t been sober this long in years. I had no reason. When Lennox played, I played. We played together. It was the name of our game. And Lennox, for as long as he’d been mine, was always playing. Except this game was no longer fun. It was beyond dangerous. It was deadly.
I gnawed at my chapped lips and tried to nibble away the dread surging through my veins. No matter how much I’d mentally prepared myself for this reunion, I was no more ready to face Eden than I was to head off to war.
Would it come to hostile combat this time?
I prayed, summoning a higher power I had no belief in to answer my desperate plea that the two of us could do this civilly. There was no more room for harsh words or blame. We’d been there, done that, on a repeat reel. Arguing got us nowhere but on opposite ends of the coast with nothing but time and distance between us. If we were to fix Lennox, we had to get along. We had to be on the same page. How would I convince Eden of that? I hadn’t the faintest idea.
My sister hated me—and for good reason. She had no use for Lennox anymore—he did worse than break her heart. He broke her spirit. And from what I understood, a once warm and caring Eden became cold and unfeeling as the result of what the two of us did to her. But some small remnant of her once beautiful, loving heart had to be there somewhere or she wouldn’t have agreed to come back.
I held on to that hope like a lifeline as I tasted blood from the slit I created in my bottom lip. When the door to the diner opened with a whistling rush of wind, my head jerked to attention and my nerve dropped heavily in the pit of my gut. Queasiness, fear, resentment and humiliation. Every one of those emotions came to a head and made me weak. Sweat pricked my skin at all the obvious stress points. My heart thundered against my rib cage and pounded in my ears until all I heard were my own uneven breaths. I had a moment—a millisecond, if that—to collect myself before Eden’s eyes met mine. Get it together, Violet.
With her hand still on the handle of the door as she closed it behind her, I watched as she faltered when she noticed me. Was she second guessing her decision? Would she turn back around and leave me here? Was she as petrified as I was to close the distance we’d lodged between us for so many years?
A strange, unexpected authority almost forced me out of my seat and into her arms. For a moment, all I wanted was my big sister to hold me again, to love me again. To accept me and my flaws. To forgive me. But that moment was fleeting, because after she took a deep breath—clearly priming herself—her eyes burned with disdain, pity even, as she made her way to the table.
I gulped and closed my eyes, then lifted the tepid coffee to my lips to keep my hands busy. I was so out of sorts it felt like an out-of-body experience. The Hayward Sister Shit Show, in full Technicolor. Part of me wanted to view it from afar to see how it played out as a bystander, not a participant. If only it were that easy. If only this whole situation wasn’t so utterly fucked up. If only . . .
“Hello,” she stated coldly, claiming the seat across from me.
“Hi,” I answered back, not making eye contact.
“You look like shit.”
That caught my attention. I jolted upright and smarted back, “So do you.” She didn’t, though. She was so put together in her designer clothing and impeccable makeup that the sight of us together must have been ridiculous.
“Same old Violet.” She laughed through her nose. “Just older and more . . . damaged.”
Not even five minutes in and she was already on me. “Is this how we’re going to do this? Insults? Digs? I didn’t call you here to be victim to your abuse.”
Eden clutched the rim of the Formica table, made like she was standing, and then must’ve thought better of it because she planted herself firmly against the cracked vinyl of the booth. “You are not a victim, Violet. You have not been abused. Not by my hand, at least. Whatever bullshit you’ve been dealing with, you brought on yourself. But now that that’s out of the way, you’re right—this isn’t about you, or me. It’s about Lennox, so where is he?”
She looked around the small, rundown diner as if he would appear at her command. He wasn’t here. He was home, in one of his comas. Yes, this was about Lennox, but we’d cross that bridge after we jumped this hurdle. We needed to somehow forge an agreement, forget about the past, and do penance for our sins in the time it took to order a meal and consume it. Without throwing it at each other.
“He’s not here. I didn’t tell him you were coming. It’s . . . complicated.” I fingered the rim of my mug in a continuous, unending circle. The action mirrored our sibling rivalry. A sick revolving carousel.
Eden’s eyes hardened and her lips transformed into a tight line at the news of his absence. She wanted to be here alone with me as much as I wanted to be sober. “I thought I was here to help Lennox! Ho
w can I help him if he’s not even here?”
I didn’t know much about my sister these days, but I did know she couldn’t possibly be this ignorant. Did she think we’d settle this, sober Lennox up, and get him the help he needed all under the roof of Flo’s Famous Diner? What the fuck? I could have screamed at her for being so callous, but instead I kept my own growing irritation at bay. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, oh, impatient one. We should talk first. Bring each other up to speed. Eat something—you’ll want as much strength as possible to deal with Lennox. Believe me; I know. It’s exhausting.” The clichés, the peace offering—they were my attempt to lighten the mood.
But it wasn’t working.
With no hint of emotion on her face or in her tone, she deadpanned, “Again, you did this to yourself. I won’t feel sorry for you, Violet. There will be no sympathy.”
Snap! “I’m not fucking asking for it!” I slapped the table and raised my voice louder than I expected.
Eden’s eyes darted around the diner to make sure no one was looking our way.
I couldn’t have cared less who was watching or if my sister was uncomfortable by my ragged appearance or my outburst, but this was getting off to a terrible start and I needed to rein things in for the greater good. For Lennox. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, settling down. “Can we please . . . Just . . . Can we not do this shit right now? Can we get along for half an hour? Can we coexist long enough to formulate some kind of plan? The quicker we make things right, the quicker you can be on your merry way and back to your fabulous Violet-and-Lennox-free life.”
Her nostrils flared and her lips, painted the color of sangria, formed a straight line. She was holding it together—barely—for the sake of appearances. Eden the Great. Eden the Wonderful. Eden the High and Mighty. “Fine,” she conceded.