Lilly’s steps aren’t careful or calculated. As the tears stream down her face, she runs to me and throws herself into my good side. The side without the broken ribs. Lilly burrows her head under my chin and begins to weep, and I do, too.
“It’s all over, baby. It’s all over.”
“Mommy,” she tries to speak through her sobs. “Please, Mommy. What happened?” Lilly pulls her head from me and stares at my badly bruised face. My swollen eyes. The burgundy color of my skin, remnants of a life not just lived for, but fought for.
Inwardly, I scream at myself that I must subject my daughter to this. But I know two things are true. One, keeping Lilly from me was only hiding her from the truth. Two, our bond, no matter the circumstances, will never be shattered.
I hold my little girl as tightly as I can and fight off the world. Tell her that I’m okay, that we are okay.
Once her heart slows down and her tears match the pace, I explain to her, in a six-year-old’s realm of understanding, the story of a man and woman who fell in love. A man and woman whose love wasn’t made of all things good. An unfixable man who tried as best he could to be a good father and a husband. And a beaten woman who tried so hard to fix him, to fix herself, to be the seam that held the family together.
As I tell the story to Lilly, I realize that it was my own trauma that kept me there with Brett. It was my own abandonment from my mother that I didn’t want to revisit. The times she left to drink instead of making my music recitals or school functions after I got better. The nights I stayed awake, for fear my mother would leave one more time. I tried to fix her. I tried to make her better by being a good girl, complying with her requests, keeping my room clean, helping make dinner, doing the laundry, trying to hold the pieces of us in place. And here I was, all these years later, trying to do the same thing. But here, right now, I can be the difference for my daughter. I can show her, not tell her, how she can be the change.
“Many times in your life, you’ll find yourself at a crossroads, Lil.”
“What are crossroads?” Lilly’s hand gently rests against the scar on my chest where one life was lost and another gained.
“Crossroads are those decisions in life that we have to make, to see all situations for what they are, and hopefully, you’ll make the right choice.”
“And you didn’t?”
I try to smile, my face screaming at me to hold still. “I made a wrong decision that led to a lot of little bad decisions. The problem is, they felt right in my heart, but my head didn’t agree.”
Lilly jerks her head back. “Your heart talked to your head?” Her lip curls inwardly as she thinks.
I gently laugh, holding Lilly on one side. My ribs on the other side ache. “You know when you do something for someone else? Like the day you helped Ida across the street?”
Lilly remembers. “Yeah.”
“How did your heart feel?”
“Really good because Miss Ida is old, and I was worried she was gonna fall down and get hurt.”
“And what did your head tell you?”
She shrugs. “Good job, I guess.”
“So, that’s when you know it’s a good decision.”
Lilly sighs. Looks down at her fingernails. “Like the time I took your red lipstick and tried to draw a picture on the wall for you.”
I remember the time very well.
“My heart told me the picture was beautiful, but once I was done, I knew you would be mad because I had never seen a picture with red lipstick on our walls before.”
I hold her tighter, as best I can, and want her to never let go of her innocence. I know it’s inevitable. I wish the world weren’t so cruel for a heart this pure.
“Honey”—I push her blonde hair that’s stuck to her forehead back—“I need to tell you about William.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Know what?”
“He died.”
“Who-who told you?”
“He did.”
Wait, what?
“What do you mean, baby?”
She toys with the string on my immodest hospital gown. “Well, he said something like, ‘I went to heaven, so your mommy wouldn’t have to.’”
Electricity shoots through my body, charging my heart, my lungs, my head. I haven’t told a soul about who pulled me from the water. But I remember it as vividly as the lily fields when I was a little girl. I try to catch my breath.
The sight.
The touch.
The feeling I got.
If William hadn’t died, there’s no way he could have known we were stuck in the truck and sinking quickly to the bottom of the ocean. He couldn’t have died just for me. I won’t believe that for one second.
“Then, he said, ‘Everybody has a time. She’s right where God intended her to be.’ And then he disappeared,” Lilly says.
I stifle a cry, but tears come, and they hurt as deeply as my wounds—some open and some just tender to movement.
William’s words on that beautiful bright day outside the bookstore on the bench come to me.
“You aren’t runnin’, Lydia. You’re doin’ this deal called life. You’re right where God intended you to be.”
I know for a fact that William didn’t die for me—not to save me, but instead to show me the bigger picture.
We get stuck in our heads. Unable to see the picture from a bird’s-eye view. It’s not until someone comes along and delivers news in snippets with pockets of hope.
Will gave me life when he and Elena gave me Shelby’s heart.
I’m here because this is my story. This is the story I am supposed to tell. The path that I’m meant to be on.
I feel Lilly’s slow, steady breaths against my chest and realize she’s fallen asleep.
Aaron cracks the door. I see his beautiful face. He quickly shuts it behind him and makes his way to us.
Us. I like the sound of that.
“Hey,” I whisper and reach out for his hand.
He takes it.
Our hands have always seemed to fit together perfectly.
“Hey,” he whispers back before he kisses Lilly and me. “How are you feeling?” He pushes a strand of my hair from my face, standing above us.
I stall before I say this, knowing it will show vulnerability but also love, “Remember how I told you I’d find my way?”
Aaron takes the seat at the end of the bed, facing a sleeping Lilly and me. “Yeah.”
“Well, I did. I know it was the hard way, but I did. And you two are the most important people in my life.” I pause to try to collect my thoughts. “Of all this, I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I thought. That my daughter is stronger than I thought. That I’m worthy of love—not because of you, but because it’s how I feel about myself.
“Aaron, I won’t be the woman who waits for you to eat dinner at night, but I’ll be the woman who warms your plate when you get home, sits with you as you eat, and asks about your day. I won’t be the woman who squanders the hours while you’re away on a job; instead, I’ll be the woman who’s redecorated the bookstore or redone the guest room because I can. But, when you walk through the door, I’m all yours. And, last and most important, I won’t be the woman in your corner, rooting for you, but instead, I’ll be alongside you, rooting with you.
“From the day I met you, knowing what I felt for you, I knew a friendship would never suffice. I knew that the only way to protect Lilly’s heart and my heart from you was to create distance.” I look down at the scar on my wrist and think about the scars on my thighs, my back. “I know now that I was trying to cover up the beauty of life. The wounds that we earn by tough battles won.”
I think about the scar on my chest. And the heart that was given to me, the life that was given to me. William and Elena didn’t have to give me Shelby’s heart. But they did.
“Now, I choose to live my life unafraid of heartbreak, unafraid of what will happen, because the honest-to-God truth is, I can’t control any of it.�
�
Another tear streams down my cheek, giving the wounds on my face a wake-up call.
Relief washes over Aaron. He reaches over, takes my hand, and kisses it. He looks into my eyes. I see the anguish in his eyes, the guilt.
“I saw Sarah the day Brett took you.”
This doesn’t surprise me. He still visits Sarah in the home she’s at.
“But you see Sarah once a month.”
Aaron shakes his head. “No. I saw her taking groceries home.”
I’m confused.
Aaron tightens his grip on my hand before he proceeds, “I was on my way into headquarters and thought I’d seen a ghost. But it was Sarah. Walking down the street, carrying her groceries.”
I swallow what feels like a pile of sandpaper. I listen.
“Said, one day, almost three weeks ago now, she just came out of it.” He stares back at me.
I want to use my fingers to fidget, to distract my heart, myself, my eyes.
“We agreed to go to coffee after I got off. I called you but couldn’t get through.” His voice is quiet.
But he doesn’t leave the destination we’ve unspokenly agreed to with our eyes—the halfway point from me to him.
Lilly sleeps.
Coffee. It was just coffee, Lydia. That’s it.
“When I didn’t get through, I waited a bit and tried again. Still, I couldn’t get through.” Aaron’s voice breaks. He coughs and covers his mouth. His inward guilt matches his eyes.
“Aaron, this isn’t your fault.”
He nods. “I try to keep telling myself that. But then I think, What if I hadn’t gone to coffee—”
“Stop it. You didn’t force me into the truck. You didn’t drive off the cliff. You didn’t do any of this, Aaron.”
“I know, but I should have been there to prevent this.”
I stop stroking Lilly’s hair. I see it now. Why he says this. It isn’t out of self-pity. This is out of love.
When people fall in love, some say their heart picks up the pace. That it beats faster, beats more for the person they’ve fallen for. Mine has just found a new rhythm. A song. A new pace to work with. A pace that’s right. And it feels good. Aaron is the reason I was running the whole time, too scared to allow my heart to find this new pace.
I use measured breaths when I say this, measured breaths that allow me time between words so that this doesn’t come out jumbled or messed up but instead clear and full of love, “God Almighty couldn’t have prevented this, Aaron. What makes you think you could have? Don’t you see? I was supposed to face my demons, Aaron. Maybe it was the wrong timing, but I was supposed to fight this battle and win.”
Thirty-Nine
Lydia
One Month Later
Helen offered to take Lilly after school, as I had to drive to Augusta for my last follow-up checkup after the accident so Alex took over the store, and I’m pulling into town now. It’s just after eight p.m.
I swear that Granite Harbor tucks itself and its people into bed at 7:51 p.m. every night. Even in the summertime when our summer tourism is in full swing, it’s like our visitors get the memo that the town shuts down from ten p.m. to eight a.m.
But, on this evening, I notice orange lilies running the length of Main Street. Bright, beautiful orange lilies. They’re stacked on both sides of the street, as if strategically placed for someone to see. Staged.
At first, I think, That’s a whole lot of money that someone just tossed down the drain, but then I ask myself why they’re here. I pull up to my bookstore, put the car in park, and slowly get out.
Not sore anymore from the accident, but still allowing my body to overcompensate for the pain I used to feel, I look back down the way I drove and then the other way down Main.
The way the lampposts come alive with light all at the same time makes everything look a little more magical.
I turn from my car and notice a note on the bookstore door.
I walk to it.
DEAR LYDIA,
MEET US IN THE MIDDLE OF MAIN.
AARON
I walk to the middle of the street and look to my left, and see Aaron and Lilly, walking hand in hand. Lilly’s wearing a white jumpsuit with a jean jacket—the outfit my mom bought her in Boston this summer. She’s holding a single lily.
Aaron is wearing a gray suit with a white button-up dress shirt underneath. Black dress shoes. He’s carrying two lilies.
Somehow, I don’t feel underdressed with a flowing white blouse and capris with sandals. I suppose I should. But something about this moment has nothing to do with material things; it has everything to do with what’s being created right now. A memory that we can tuck into our lifetime and pull out when life seems to be too much. Because there’re no two other people I’d like to do this life with.
My heart finds the rhythm. The one that Aaron gives me.
My beautiful daughter walks with him toward me.
I cover my mouth with my hand and smile beneath it.
Lilly is grinning from ear to ear, which makes me grin even more.
A single tear leaves Aaron’s eye and rolls down his cheek.
What is going on?
One rolls down my cheek. Then, two. I wipe them.
Aaron and Lilly reach me, and he gives her hand a soft wiggle, as if to say, Okay.
Lilly grabs her notecard from her pocket and begins to read, “Dear Mommy, I love you more than all the lilies in the world. Flowers. Not people.” She grins and looks up at me. “When you look at Aaron, you smile a lot. I don’t see you look at Leonard, the mailman, like that. I like how Aaron looks at you. Like you’re the prettiest unicorn in the whole world. I would really like it if Aaron could sleep over every night. I like how he makes you so happy.” She leans her head into Aaron and continues to read, “Aaron asked if it would be okay if he married me and you.” She smiles. “I told him that you’re only supposed to marry one person at a time. But then he asked if he could be my dad.”
I look up to Aaron.
Tears are now streaming down his face.
“I told him that I love him and that I love you, and if marrying us both gets me the best dad in the world, I’ll take it.”
She looks up at Aaron. Looks at me. “Mommy, will you marry Dad?”
Aaron puts his finger up, signifying he needs a second. Looks away. And then back to me. Takes a step forward, so we’re closer, enough to touch each other.
“Being with you and Lilly has made me realize how important love is. I see a lot of brokenness in the job that I do,” he speaks slowly. “I see a lot of heartbreak. I spent a lot of years just skimming through life, not wanting to give my heart away because of what could come. Somewhere along the line, early on, I fell in love with you. A love I knew I couldn’t deny. A love that puts my existence at ease.” He pauses and looks down at the lilies in his hand. He hands one to me and keeps the other for himself. Lilly is holding the third.
Aaron hands his lily to Lilly and gets down on one knee. Lilly squeals in delight.
My hands begin to shake. My knees feel as though they’ll give way.
“Now that I have Lilly’s blessing and your parents’ blessing, will you make me the most happiest man alive and spend the rest of your life with me?”
I nod because the tears are flowing, and I can’t seem to speak. Somewhere, the one word he needs gets lost in my head.
“Mommy, you have to say yes or no. That’s what they say in all the movies when someone asks.”
I laugh and cry, all at the same time. “Yes. Yes, I’d love for us to spend the rest of our lives with you, Aaron.”
Aaron stands, takes a box from his pocket, pulls out a ring, and slides it on my finger. Before Aaron does anything else, he pulls another ring, a much smaller gold band from his pocket. “What do you say, kiddo?”
Lilly smiles. “I’m in,” she says and Aaron slides the ring on Lilly’s finger.
I throw my arms around him and begin to shake. “I love you, Aaron C
asey.” My words are clear but full of emotion. I pull back and look at Lilly. “You might want to turn around for this, baby.”
Lilly rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and turns around.
My mouth crashes against Aaron’s, and I feel his smile underneath it all. Through our kiss, he says, “I love you, Lydia Casey.”
That has a nice ring to it.
A day later, we gather the lilies with the help of Ethan and Bryce and their new baby, Parker; Eli, Alex, and their two girls, Emily and Noah; Ryan and Merit and their daughter, Hope, in a front pack. We gave them all to local businesses. Somehow, it just made our sweet home of Granite Harbor brighter. It made our town brighter, the people brighter.
We all stand in front of the bookstore. Emily, Noah, and Lilly gleefully chase each other.
Ryan looks to Aaron. “Dude, that was a lot of lilies. How’d you get all those?”
Aaron side-eyes me. “I know a guy with a field full of them. Paid a price he couldn’t refuse.”
“Have you guys set a date yet?” Merit asks, moving their daughter, Hope, from one side to the other.
Aaron and I exchange a look and smile.
“You guys have plans for two weeks from today?” he asks.
Alex gasps. Eli laughs.
The entire crowd starts to laugh. Us.
Ethan holds his brother’s shoulder. “Nah, we don’t have plans.”
“Good then. It’ll be at the Harbor Inn at four p.m. Real small,” Aaron says.
Alex, Bryce, and Merit stare me down.
“We need details, sister. Come along.” Bryce takes me by the arm along with Alex and Merit, and we head inside the bookstore to talk wedding details.
I’ve never had girlfriends before, real good girlfriends before, who I can count on, no matter what. I’m starting to think I’ve found my tribe.
It’s late when Aaron and I slip into bed.
We’ve made love since the accident. We couldn’t help ourselves. He was gentle with me. Soft. Carefully held me as he pushed himself deeper inside me.
He flicks off the light, leaving us to the dark, my back to him, as I’m on my side. He scoots closer, my back fitting to his front like it’s been a perfect fit for years. He pulls my legs part, confirming I don’t have panties on. I hear the escape of air between his lips.
Lilies on Main Page 24
