Goodbye, Orchid

by Carol Van Den Hende

  Knows him better than anyone else? Christ, am I really that person for another human being?

  She leaned forward, one elbow on his workspace. When she rested her chin onto the palm of her hand, she pulled back, surprised. “Ow! I keep forgetting,” she said, putting one hand up to her bandaged forehead.

  Caleb drew himself straighter. Phoenix would want him to protect her, just as he himself had tried to protect her.

  “What happened?” he asked, drawn in despite himself.

  “Have you ever been to his agency?” she said, answering his question with a question.

  “Yeah.”

  “I crashed through a glass case there.”

  “What?” He stood, chuckling darkly. “You want a tattoo of that?” he asked.

  “Very funny,” she said.

  “Why’d you do that?” he asked, sitting.

  “I didn’t mean to, I tripped. After his admin threatened me.” Her face fell and then she jutted her chin up, like a little girl acting tough to get herself through a difficult spot.

  “Tiny little Liv?”

  “I think he let her think that I’d been a bitch to him, too.”

  “And you’re sure you haven’t?”

  “I only found out about his accident four days ago. So how could I have been a bitch about it?” Her voice hardened and she looked out the window, fingering the frayed piping of her army jacket.

  “But?” he encouraged.

  “I guess I said something insensitive when I last saw him.” Her chin dropped.

  “After you knew about his—”

  “Yeah. After I cut myself, he went with me to the hospital. And I guess I was worried about how my face looked. I think I called it hideous and disfigured.”

  “How’d he take that?”

  “He left.”

  Good. Smart man.

  “If that’s the case, seems damned straightforward to me. What’s the point of chasing someone who doesn’t want you?”

  “But that’s the thing,” she insisted, straightening. “I don’t think it’s so straightforward. My stupid comment didn’t mean anything. I’ve got to let him know that we should try again.”

  Damn, she’s tenacious.

  “Don’t you freak out over every little scratch?”

  She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes grew large. “He probably thinks I do, but I swear, after the initial shock of seeing his arm, he was just Phoenix to me. All I could think was how I’d missed him. I mean, I feel terrible for him, but it’s not going to freak me out.” Her fist pounded the armrest for emphasis. “You’ve seen us together. What’d you think?” she pressed.

  “Yeah, I guess you had something. At that triathlon, and down the shore. But that was all before, you know.” He was surprised he couldn’t name the time that dominated his life last fall. He looked out the window at piles of shoveled snow. He worried about Phoenix taking a tumble.

  “I don’t know. Tell me what happened,” she said, her eyes growing even more expressive.

  He stood to stretch, looking up, thinking. Only with Sascha had he shared the images and regrets that still dogged him. A pressure built. He wanted to unload the memories. Not for her. Rather, for himself. He talked while he paced.

  “Freakin’ call came to my shop in Jersey,” he said, remembering the day. “I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t picture it. I couldn’t even drive, I was so messed up, so Sascha drove me. Mom said I needed to come say goodbye, just in case.”

  Orchid appeared to have forgotten to breathe, eyes frozen wide.

  He stopped, gazing at the pattern of the black-and-white checkered tiles on the floor, his mind elsewhere. The whine of a siren whizzed by and faded, reminding them of the city past the clear glass door.

  “Then I saw him, and it was him, but he looked bad, not moving, tubes and shit. Scary, you know?”

  She nodded, even though she hadn’t been there and couldn’t have known.

  “I didn’t know you could be hit by a train and survive.”

  She yelped.

  He strode, pacing around the shop in the darkening shadows of late afternoon, agitated. “What? You didn’t know?” He stopped walking, hands on his hips.

  “So he really was hit by a . . . train?”

  “Yeah, saving a homeless guy. He woke when I was with him, and I had to tell him. He was so broken up, I didn’t know what to say. Then Mom came in and she told him it was okay. But I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t make him feel better. I still can’t.” His voice cracked, having stated the worst part, the part where he’d let his brother down.

  “Saving a homeless guy?”

  Emotional when he didn’t want to be, and suddenly aware of responsibilities he didn’t know he’d held towards his brother, he headed to the shop door. He turned around the sign so that, from the outside, it read CLOSED.

  “It’s after five, I’m closing up.” He moved around, locking up the safe and cash register.

  “Here’s the thing,” she said, getting in his face to make him look at her. “I think we have something special. I think he thinks I can’t deal. I think he thinks he’s protecting me.”

  “Yup. Sounds like him.”

  Caleb wrapped a scarf around his neck against the cold wind and shrugged on his warm, lined leather coat, relishing the smell that reminded him of rides in open air.

  Stomping one booted foot, she put a hand to her forehead. “So, are you going to let your brother sacrifice himself for no good reason? When he has a chance to be happy?”

  “You sure you can make him happy?” He infused her romantic dreams with some reality. “That’s some tough shit,” Caleb warned. “He’s not the easiest guy to live with, and he’s probably even more ornery now.”

  “Because of his arm?”

  He grabbed his keys. “Vamoose,” he told her, indicating the door.

  “Just do this, Caleb. For me . . . for him. Find me a chance to see him so we can talk.” She followed him out, buttoning her coat. He swung onto his bike parked at the curbside, revving the engine.

  “I’m outta here but I’ll think about it. And to answer your question, yeah, probably missing a hand makes him ornery, but how come you aren’t giving any credit to his missing leg?” He accelerated away from the curb in a wide arc, pulling a U-turn before the oncoming traffic reached them. “Ciao, babe,” he called to the gape-mouthed beauty staring after him.

  CHAPTER 44

  LOVE, INTERRUPTION

  Orchid

  SATURDAY MARCH 16

  Orchid walked Uptown, head bent against the cold. There was no way she was going into the subway system and board a train after what she’d just learned.

  Missing leg? She realized that it didn’t change her feelings for him. Of course, it shouldn’t matter. How little credit did he give their relationship to hide that from her?

  Her resolve withered when she imagined the full extent of his injuries. Then, she was angry for even pausing. He’s still Phoenix, right?

  How had he kept all this from her while she was in China? Not for the first time, she reexamined the time they were apart. She’d been climbing the Great Wall while he was immobile in a hospital bed, trying to protect her with silence. She’d cherished his protectiveness, but now it seemed like his Achilles heel.

  She found herself at Mandy’s building. The doorman called her friend’s apartment, then sent Orchid up.

  Mandy opened the door dressed in stretchy leggings and an oversized T-shirt.

  Mandy glanced at Orchid’s bandaged forehead. “Did you get in a bar brawl or have you taken up wrestling?”

  Orchid hugged her friend. “Long story. How are things with you?”

  Mandy guided her through the warm apartment. “Oh, we’re all good. Same old. Hubby’s worried about his job, as usual. Part-time daycare’s going
fine, when it’s not closed for snow days, that is.”

  “Yeah, heck of a winter, huh?”

  Mandy patted the barstool nearest the kitchen and then grabbed a wine bottle from the fridge.

  Orchid felt a little better in the familiar chaos. “Where’s Matty?” she asked, and reached for two crystal stems.

  “Down for his nap. Hopefully, he’ll sleep for a while. So, what’s up with you?” Mandy filled the glasses high, commensurate with how rattled Orchid looked.

  “My company wants me to move to China.”

  “No way! Congratulations, right? But you know you can’t leave me.”

  “Don’t worry. There’s at least two trips home a year.”

  “Cool, so why are you not sounding excited?”

  “Phoenix,” Orchid said with a sigh.

  “Weren’t my orders for you to move on?”

  “Yeah, except it’s not what I thought,” Orchid said. “He didn’t call me because he was in a train accident and didn’t want me to worry, or he thought I’d reject him or something stupid like that.”

  “Train accident? Sounds serious. Is he okay?”

  “Hard to say. He looks okay. He looks good, actually. I’ve only seen him a few times since I came back. Remember at that holiday party? I guess I was so focused on the girl he was all wrapped around that I didn’t notice much else.”

  “Yeah, what happened with that girl?”

  “Turns out I misunderstood. That was his admin, and they weren’t dating.” Orchid took a sip then replaced her glass onto the counter. “So, my boss took me to a party at his agency.”

  “You go, girl.”

  “Only when I see him, I look down and realize he’s missing his hand.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Yeah, poor guy, right?”

  “Yeah, and poor you. How are you feeling about all this?”

  “Stupid sensitive me. I had a minor freakout. But then, I was so worried for him, like did it hurt, was he okay. Then I thought that maybe that was why he stopped talking to me and he just needed to see that we’re still good together, and we can make it all right again.”

  “Sounds good. And if that were the case, I’m guessing you wouldn’t look so glum, right?”

  “You know me too well. So, it gets complicated. Phoenix’s not returning my calls, so I went to see his brother to ask for his help.”

  “You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here. Hot brother willing to help out?”

  “I dunno,” Orchid said, “except he tells me that the accident took his leg, too.”

  “What? Oh my god! That’s messed up.”

  “I know. I feel terrible that this happened to him. And I wasn’t even around when he was going through all this. And then, he doesn’t even want to tell me. He kept it secret for six months. Just from me, ‘cause he thinks I’m a total dolt.”

  “Aw, Orchid. You’re not a dolt. He knows about what happened to your parents?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s why he didn’t want to tell me. Plus, I freaked over a cut on my foot with him once. He knows I don’t watch the news. And I couldn’t look at pictures of injured soldiers, and . . .” Her voice trailed off realizing how damning the evidence must have appeared to him.

  “Hey, just curious here, how could you not tell before? About his leg?”

  “Well, he walks perfectly fine. He was wearing pants, and you really can’t tell anything’s different. After I found out about his arm, I looked it up online. With adaptations, he can probably do what he wants.”

  “Holy crap, this is unbelievable. Are you okay, honey?”

  “I’m okay. He’s the strong one. I can’t believe everything he must’ve been through. And here’s the kicker. Last time I saw him, I called my cut hideous and disfiguring.” Orchid pointed towards the bandage on her forehead. “He walked out.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Her own part in this began to dawn on her. “You know what sucks? I can be pissed at him for thinking he gets to decide what happens to us. But, honestly? I’m pissed at myself too. I thought I had it down pat. Avoid anything unpleasant. Don’t read the paper; don’t watch the news. Live my sheltered life working in beauty.”

  “Who could blame you?”

  “I do. I thought I was smart keeping myself safe. Now it’s cost me any chance with Phoenix. Life is messy, and I need to grow up and face that. Otherwise, he was right all along.”

  “You want messy? Come by next time Matty has a blowout diaper.”

  Orchid swilled her wine, and stood. “That one’s all yours, hon, I have my own mess to deal with.”

  At home, Orchid pried open her laptop and typed in her password. The information from Caleb didn’t reconcile with her perception of Phoenix. He moved with fluidity and grace. He’d sprinted to her side and held her when she was hurt.

  Orchid typed multiple amputee into the blinking search bar. Pages of links filled her screen. She tried not to look away. They’re just pictures. Nothing bad is going to happen. There were stories about military veterans and their prostheses, about amputees surfing, training for 5K’s, skateboarding, and rock climbing. The guys looked tough and tenacious.

  One article described a soldier who was blown up by an IED and lost both legs and a hand. She paged through quickly, learning that he spent a year at Walter Reed, adapting to driving and living on his own. It was a hard recovery. Yet, he felt the experience made him stronger. Even if he could, he wouldn’t change a thing. His only wish was that people wouldn’t judge him based on how he looked. Orchid winced recalling her insensitive comments last she’d seen Phoenix. He wasn’t likely to interpret her judgment kindly.

  Her perspective shifted. Avoiding these images hadn’t brought her parents back. Looking at them didn’t make bad things happen. And she wasn’t some overly sensitive person who was repulsed by other people’s imperfections. She felt their pain with empathy.

  Did she want to curate an artificially rosy existence? No. I just need to find Phoenix to tell him how much I care.

  He wasn’t letting her get in touch with him, so she shot hope into the atmosphere for the goodwill of one tattooed giant.

  CHAPTER 45

  HIP (EPONYMOUS)POOR BOY

  Caleb

  MONDAY MARCH 18

  Phoenix peered down the corridor even though his office was too far to be able to see the receptionist’s desk. “Caleb’s here?” he asked, confused.

  “You want me to tell him you’re busy?” Liv asked, one hand over the mouthpiece of her phone.

  “Remind me again. I’ve got a two o’clock, right?”

  Glancing at her computer screen, Liv nodded. “Right.”

  “Send him in.”

  Caleb arrived at the heels of the office receptionist, toting a paper bag.

  The receptionist warily eyed his scowl, black jacket, jeans and untied combat boots. She shifted nervously.

  “Oh my gawd,” she said, “will this snow ever end?” She stopped snapping her gum long enough to flash her wide, perfectly bleached-white teeth.

  Caleb grunted and strode towards Phoenix. The receptionist turned and slouched back towards her spot in the waiting area.

  Phoenix stepped out of his doorway to greet Caleb with a brief one-armed hug. “Hey. This is a rare and pleasant surprise.”

  He turned to Liv. “Caleb, you remember my executive assistant, Liv? Liv, you’ve met my brother Caleb.”

  They shook hands. Caleb deigned a quick “Hey,” then pointed at Phoenix’s office, situated behind Liv’s desk. “Should we sit in there?”

  “By all means,” Phoenix said, leading the way. He indicated two swivel chairs adjacent to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Midtown.

  Caleb waited for the door to shut behind them and joined his brother, plopping the bag onto the low table between the chairs. He shru
gged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair, where it promptly slid off the slick plastic surface. Caleb left it, sinking into the chair and leaning forward to open the paper sack. Rich, meaty odors emitted from the oil-spotted bag.

  “Hungry?” Caleb asked.

  The smells triggered the feeling that it was lunch time. Phoenix nodded. “Two Boots, nice. It reminds me of you sneaking food into my hospital room.”

  “Rules mean shit,” Caleb said, dumping the contents of the delicious-smelling bag onto the table.

  “C’mon, we’re in an ad agency. No clichés allowed.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “Breaded chicken, catfish po’boy, or meatball parm? Or are those too cliché for lunch?”

  “Touché. I’ll take the chicken, if you don’t mind.”

  Caleb pushed one wrapped sandwich towards his brother and opened another for himself.

  “Thanks,” Phoenix said, peeling back the paper and taking a bite of the dense white roll compressed around lettuce and still-hot chicken breast.

  Caleb looked through the glass wall toward the row of offices stretching down the corridor back to the reception area. He swallowed a bite of meatball sub and wiped his mouth with a brown paper napkin. “I still can’t believe you made this place. Look at that,” he said, pointing towards Liv with his sandwich-clutched hand. “You have a secretary.”

  “Executive assistant,” Phoenix corrected. “You did the same. Built a business. Different product, same principles.”

  “It’s not the same. I don’t have a secretary,” Caleb said, chewing while studying Liv typing rapidly.

  “I’ll send her to your place for a day. She’ll scare away your clients with her efficiency,” he said, laughing. He finished one corner of his meal and rolled up the other portion inside its waxed paper wrap.

  “Is half enough?” Caleb asked, eying the leftover food.

  “Half a guy, half a sandwich,” Phoenix said. The image hit him in the gut. He shook his head to clear it. “So, what are you doing here?”