Goodbye, Orchid

by Carol Van Den Hende

  “So, I have a story to tell you,” she said, her voice quiet and soothing. “Imagine, twin brothers, schoolboys in the same class, with the same teacher, with the same math test. One gets a 97 percent and petitions the teacher to allow a retake, convinced he can do better.” She paused. “The other gets a B- and gives up, since he hates school anyway.

  “Which way is right?” she asked.

  He recalled his and Caleb’s divergent paths. Had their differences in motivation been evident even in elementary school?

  “Of course, both the perfectionist and the dropout are going to have issues,” he said, eyes still closed.

  “Well said. So maybe it’s time you were okay with something less than 100 percent.”

  He opened his eyes to stare at her.

  “Or rather, maybe it’s time you believe someone else could be okay with less than perfection.”

  He swallowed over the hard lump in his throat, blinking.

  “She’s got standards,” he said. “I don’t know if B- is going to be enough for her.”

  “I may be biased but I don’t see anything less than an A here.”

  She sat up to look at him directly. “From the look on her face, I don’t think Orchid sees anything less than 100 percent.”

  Tears surprised him, heating his eyes as they sprang to existence. He blinked through the prickling sensation in his scalp as he worked to keep them hidden.

  The sun shifted, the distinct colors of the room muting to speckled grays in the afternoon dusk.

  “She said she wants to try again. She said she loves me.” His throat tightened as he remembered her expression that morning. Aren’t I here now? Dealing just fine?

  “And what’d you say?”

  “I told her there was nothing between us.”

  His mom studied him, pressing down the spot of hair that always lay against the grain of the others. “Some imperfection is a bit endearing,” she said, looking at the errant wave.

  “Christ, Mom,” he exploded, stabbed by the impossibility of what he couldn’t have. The source of his emotions hurtled sixty miles an hour away from him, her feelings growing cold faster than Caleb’s motorcycle could take them back to the city. “I’m a double amputee. I’ve got one hand and one leg. Do you think sensitive Orchid is going to find that freakin’ endearing?”

  His mom remained calm despite his outburst. Betsy and George slunk out to the kitchen. He was glad that his cousins and Lucy were nowhere to be seen.

  “I don’t know Orchid as well as you do, but do you think her experiences could make her more empathetic about all that?”

  “Remember I had nightmares during those early days in the hospital?”

  “I remember. You didn’t talk much about them.”

  “I dreamt I was crawling through a fire and no one would help me,” he said, obscuring the details about his family’s imagined callousness. “Except Orchid.”

  “You see?” she asked. “You knew even then that Orchid cared for you.”

  “In my dreams, Mom, she saved me from the fire, yes. But she did so at her own expense. She threw up looking at me. She carried me . . . out of pity,” he spat.

  “I didn’t know,” Mom said. “I’m sorry.”

  Her stare reminded him of the desperation in her eyes as he’d fought to regain the small slips of independence in the early days—transferring to his chair, eating independently, and dressing.

  “You know that’s just a dream, right?” she asked.

  “The dream feels more real than reality. Like that’s what’s going on for her behind all that fake bravado.”

  She lifted his hand, warming it against her cheek. “No, honey, that’s what’s going on for you behind all your bravado.”

  The room empty, alone with his mom, real tears came. “I’m scared, Mom. Scared to try, and then she’s going to figure out that this sucks.”

  Veronica nodded. “You know what I’m scared of?” she asked softly. “I’m scared you’re letting that train take more than it already has.”

  CHAPTER 53

  WHO’S LEAVING WHO

  Phoenix

  MONDAY APRIL 1

  “Hell of an Easter weekend,” Phoenix said from behind his desk.

  “Oh yeah? Bunny forget to bring your basket?” Dex flicked a wrist to pop balled paper into the air, then caught it.

  “Orchid showed up with Caleb.”

  “What do you mean, ‘showed up with Caleb’?”

  “I thought the same thing at first, that they were together. Turns out he was doing her some favor, because she wanted to talk to me.”

  “I knew it!” Dex pounded his fist onto the desk between them.

  “Knew what?”

  “That she had a thing for you. At the anniversary party, she was all doe-eyed. But I don’t get it. Wasn’t she a bitch to you? And why was she thinking you were engaged to Tish?”

  Phoenix shook his head. “My life is a mess.”

  “If we ever pitch a soap opera, we’re coming to you for material.”

  “I cut her out of my life. After the accident. Don’t judge me.”

  “No judging here. That was a hell of an accident. It’d screw anyone up, for a bit anyway. So, you know Fiona’s going to want all the details. Why’d you cut her out of your life, and what happened when she showed up for Easter?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? That is one sensitive woman. Remember she was the one who couldn’t look at military ads? Who was bleeding all over the office and still tried to avoid the hospital?”

  “So what?” Dex huffed. “She’s also the one you said was special and sweet. The one you brought to Cannes and came back like you were smitten.”

  “Yeah, that was all before I ended up half metal, half man.”

  “All right. So what happened at Easter? Is she all freaked out, or cool, love my metal-man?”

  Phoenix got up to walk to the plate glass overlooking Midtown. “Crazy woman says she loves me.” The words hit him hard. “She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s still traumatized on the inside.”

  “Yeah? What makes you think that? Did she faint? Freak?”

  “Naw, she was cool. She even stayed with me one night.”

  “You sly dog.”

  “Cut it out.” He paced, agitated. “You know her parents died, right? Some terrible car accident. She witnessed it, and seeing people hurt reminds her. So what am I going to do, torture her every time she’s with me?”

  Dex stroked his unruly beard. “Honestly, all decked out in Armani, you don’t look that busted up to me.”

  Phoenix looked down, from tailored suit to buffed shoes.

  “It’s more like you’re bionic. Cool in that Ironman, Six-Million-Dollar-Man way,” Dex said.

  Phoenix considered this. He’d achieved all those goals he’d set with Nadine.

  “Hey, if she’s telling you she loves you, you might want to hold onto her. Fiona only tells me that after she’s had a glass of wine. Or four.”

  And then he saw it.

  The pieces of the puzzle he’d been focused on, Orchid’s horror over her cut, while true, was just one side of the image. Flipped to the front side, he recognized new connections. Orchid massaging away his pain, seeing his missing pieces and, after these many months, still offering her care. Caleb, Mom, and now Dex each advised the same thing. The loving textures and hues of Orchid’s care had been there all along, just obscured by his own prejudice. She saw nothing less than 100 percent. Maybe he could do the same.

  CHAPTER 54

  MISSING PIECES

  Orchid

  Two days frozen and then Orchid’s thaw came in wet salted waves.

  She first pictured Phoenix whole and angry. Gorgeous and stunning too, even while pelting her with sarcastic and biting accusations.

  Next, she sa
w his pain, and the inequity of what he had to deal with. Her own source of pain was that, despite the finality of his abandonment, she still cared for him.

  It wasn’t how he looked that shocked her. Rather, seeing him ambulate without prostheses produced pained images of his difficulties. His scooting, hand past bum, gave a glimpse of daily challenges.

  At home after work, bag slung over a chair, mail tossed on the table, her everyday tasks laughably easy, the dam broke. Misery tightened in the space beneath her eyes, watering her view. The sympathy he wouldn’t want clenched high in her throat. It erupted in baby pockets of sobs. “It’s not fair.” And then despair squeezed sobs at a faster tempo. “No, no. It can’t be. Don’t take that away. Undo it. Make him whole, the way he was. For his sake.” The sobs turned ugly, blurring her view of the room.

  The denial stage of grieving.

  The tears unleashed vulnerability. The frozen of the last two days washed away with the warm water. In its place, a quiet and growing acceptance. He’d survived and now thrived.

  Yet, what concern was it of hers? He was no longer in her life.

  Then, that evening, a pale hue still touching the sky, the phone sounded. She stared at the lit screen, her surprise dotted with both anticipation and concern.

  “Phoenix?”

  “Hey, Orchid, how are you?” His voice, light and unencumbered.

  Ugly pained air expelled. Fresh clean air inhaled. “I’m okay. How are you doing? How are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling fine. Why do you ask?”

  “I was a little worried about your phantom pain.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Those have become pretty rare nowadays.”

  “That’s good to hear. Everything else okay?”

  “Things are great. I’m calling to see if you’re free Saturday.”

  “Free Saturday?”

  “To attend Tish’s wedding with me.”

  She regained her footing with sarcasm. “What? Are Liv and Rina busy?”

  He laughed. “I prefer you, in case I need to find the men’s room.”

  “I am good at finding the men’s room. So tell me the truth, are you just taking pity on me?”

  “What? Friends can’t invite friends to events?”

  She paused, her heart at risk.

  “Hey, I was kind of an ass last time we saw each other. Can I make it up to you?”

  No. But at least I can say goodbye before China.

  “Okay, thanks for the invitation. What’s the dress code?”

  His chuckle brought a smile to her face. “Since when did you care about someone else’s dress code? I’m going black-tie and I’m sure you’ll come up with something uniquely Orchid.”

  She hung up, vowing to keep their final evening together light. More important than her outfit or a nail appointment, she began to erect a scaffold around her bandaged heart.

  What’s appropriate to wear to the wedding of your crush’s ex-girlfriend when you’re still in love, despite a tumultuous relationship?

  A full-length Free People dress in a modern interpretation of Scottish tartan, the pattern turned forty-five degrees, low in the front and low in the back, seemed to hit just the right vibe. Orchid sipped an iced vodka cranberry cocktail as she dressed.

  Her doorman called at five. Right on time.

  Heading down the elevator, she mentally checked if she had everything she needed: lipstick, phone, keys.

  Her legs moved on automatic pilot off the elevator. Holy hell, he’d gotten hotter in the week since she’d last seen him. Attired in a well-cut dark tux, offset with a crisp white shirt and trim, dark tie, he looked like an ad for men’s cologne. It wasn’t just his physical beauty. The corners of his eyes crinkled with happiness. He met her halfway through the foyer and captured her around the waist. Dipping her, he kissed her cheek. She stood and looked up at azure eyes smoldering a familiar hole into her racing heart.

  “Well, how are you, hungry bird?”

  “I am great. You?”

  “Super happy to see you,” Phoenix said, guiding her through the lobby doors.

  A driver with a burst of billowing white hair exited the car and opened the door for them.

  Caleb, waiting in the back seat, scooted over for Orchid. Phoenix slipped in behind her. As the car started moving, Caleb handed her a flask. She eyed him. “It’s a wedding. We need fortitude,” he said.

  The three of them passed the Scotch. There were few other places Orchid would prefer to be than wedged between the Walker brothers in the back of a stretch limo.

  The car pulled in front of Cipriani’s. How surreal, she thought.

  She turned to Phoenix. “What are the chances, from the Effies to Tish’s wedding?”

  “Yes, it did take some work to convince the bride to choose her locale based on us,” Phoenix said dryly. The idea of “us” gave Orchid an undeserved thrill.

  “What’d we send her?” Caleb asked, sporting a rarely seen tuxedo that covered most of his arm tattoos. He pushed open the massive door before Phoenix or Orchid could reach it.

  “The week before a wedding, registries have slim pickings. We were able to snag some linens and a honeymoon crack-of-dawn bike expedition from the top of a volcano.”

  “Nice,” he smirked. “Sheets for her bed from her ex.”

  “Tom’s got nothing to worry about. Tish has seen the damaged goods.”

  Orchid slipped a hand around the shortened left arm of his suit jacket to twine with his elbow. “Hey, you look pretty great to me.”

  The hall was festooned with garlands of white roses, and an usher at the entrance greeted them. “Bride’s side or groom’s?” asked the awkward teen, sparse facial hair sprouting between pimpled skin, feet oversized like a puppy’s.

  Seated two-thirds of the way back, they could still see the huppah, or Jewish wedding tent, clearly.

  They were just in time. The bridal march began and flower girls lobbed petals onto the carpet more randomly than a Jackson Pollock painting. Bridesmaids on the arms of suited men came in widely varied body types. Clothed identically, they looked like mismatched furniture upholstered in the same bad chintz.

  All the players in their expected places, Tish and her parents entered the room to a collective sigh at the beauty of the bride. The guests heaved to their feet. Caleb rolled his eyes at no one in particular.

  Tish played the part well. With a simple silk gown that draped from her bosom in one flowing line several feet behind her, she looked the picture of a contemporary bride. Tish paused mid-strut, sensed her moment, then raised her bouquet high in the air, emitting a face-splitting “Hoo-yeah!”

  Appreciative applause and sprinkled “Hell-yeah’s” echoed through the hall.

  The breaking of glass was followed by a kiss and catcalls as if the attendees had just been freed from a decade in a nunnery. Throughout all of it, Orchid wondered if it’d ever be her. To find the love of her life, and have him be willing to commit. Wasn’t looking good.

  After the ceremony, the trio shuffled along with the crowd towards the banquet hall. Phoenix scored a champagne flute, handed it to Orchid, and grabbed another for his brother, then himself. His blue gaze held hers as they clinked glasses. God help me, I’m still in love, she thought. Phoenix swallowed his bubbly and returned the empty glass to the silver tray.

  In the receiving line, Phoenix greeted the mother of the bride.

  “Mazel tov. Tish and Tom look very happy,” he said, leaning down for a hug. Orchid’s imagination wandered, thinking that Tish and Phoenix had looked happy. Orchid and Phoenix, too.

  “Thank you. They are perfect together.” Tish’s mom smoothed her sequined gown. “I’m sorry about your accident,” she said to Phoenix while studying Orchid.

  “I appreciate that. I’m doing much better now. Do you remember Caleb, my brothe
r?”

  “Congratulations,” Caleb said, and bent to touch cheeks with her.

  “And this is Orchid, my friend.”

  “Nice to meet you. This is a beautiful wedding,” Orchid said.

  “Thanks. You know this one’s a troublemaker?” she said, nodding a chin towards Phoenix while shaking Orchid’s hand. Her tone said teasing, but the words hit Orchid like the truth.

  “Um, yeah,” Orchid agreed. “I’ve experienced that firsthand.”

  “I like a place where I’m not the troublemaker for a change,” Caleb said.

  “Thanks for all the votes of confidence,” Phoenix interjected. “We better let you go,” he said to Tish’s mom. “Congrats again.”

  She smiled, and turned to a young couple next in line.

  “Troublemaker, huh?” Orchid said to Phoenix as they picked up their tented name cards outside the reception hall.

  “Have I got stories,” Caleb added.

  “That was the old me,” Phoenix said.

  As they made their way to a table, several women waved at them. “Tish’s sorority sisters and their spouses,” Phoenix whispered.

  “Phoenix!” shouted a freckled redhead, as if he wasn’t already headed directly for her.

  “Gail,” he said, leaning in to kiss both cheeks. “I’d like to introduce you to Orchid Paige.”

  “Nice to meet you, Orchid.” She turned to Phoenix, curious. “Is this your girlfriend?”

  “Definitely not,” Orchid muttered just as Phoenix shook his head. His denial, expected as it was, cut her.

  “This is my brother, Caleb.”

  Gail studied him from thick hair, to the tips of serpent tattoos showing above his collar, down to his muscular physique. “You have good taste in brothers,” she said, and then extended her hand.

  Caleb bowed his head.

  They sat, Gail inserting herself in between the Walkers. “Just broke up with my beau,” she offered. The waiter came by to fill glasses next to their salads. “White, please,” Gail and Orchid called. “Red,” Phoenix said. “Both,” declared Caleb.

  While Caleb consumed the appetizer, greens and several rolls, Gail questioned him about his barely visible snake tattoos, exclaiming over every new piece of information.