Spring blooms

His hands drifted over my arms, not a thought in their movements. Just his way of soothing himself. He was reading something over my shoulder. His fingers tapped a beat against the back of my wrist. He was lost in his thoughts, his body going on autopilot.

He chuckled to himself and moved away, getting his water bottle. I didn’t move. I wanted him to come back and put his arms around me again. But the moment was over, and he was talking to someone, asking them a question.

I swallowed and turned over, readjusting my neck against the pillow. It was stiff, but I didn’t want to leave him yet.

Where were we? Some little smelly club, Roxy, or maybe PJ’s nest. I remembered the paneled walls, all covered with flyers. The smell of stale beer in the air.

He was standing with a group of guys. They were saying hello, laughing a little. I hung back, lingering against the wall, watching him. I had a nasty habit of biting that little piece of skin next to your thumbnail in those days. I was doing it when he looked up. He pointed at it and shook his head. His beard was in, scruffy. I shook my head back at him. I loved it when he held me like that, with his eyes from across the room, claiming me as his.

The bands were warming up. You could hear the front man, impressed with himself, talking to the sparse crowd. It stole Julian’s attention and broke our moment. We were always early for the show, which made little sense because we’d have the cheapest seats in the place. It wasn’t like showing up early was going to make a difference.

I went to the bar. While I waited for my drink, he came up behind me again. Two fingers running around the inside of my wrist, then down into my palm. He spread his fingers between mine and brought my hand up over my shoulder to kiss my knuckles. He stole my drink with the other hand as it was pushed in front of me and took the first sip. I played mad, and he gave it back. I took a sip as he put a wet kiss behind my ear.

He whispered something — lips brushing my ear. God, what I would give to remember. I am sure it was nothing, but now it would mean everything. Just to hear his voice.

The band lit up some tune and his hand went to my hip, his forehead to the back of my shoulder. He swayed us a little. Humming.

I should have turned around and kissed him. I should have kissed him every chance I got, but I didn’t. I was still a little pissed about some stupid thing we argued over at the house, and I wanted him to feel bad for raising his voice.

I am sorry — That’s what he whispered.

I started to say — me too — but the drummer hit the symbols and we both jumped.

“Mom.” My shoulders shook. “Mom, we’re late.”

“No, the alarm didn’t go off yet.” I turned away.

“It went off 20 minutes ago. You left your phone in the living room. Again.”

“Shit.”

I sat up, blinking my eyes hard. My feet hit the floor. Holden was making his way out of my bedroom. I had laid out my favorite “athleisure” set the night before. A black set of soft cashmere pants and a top. I washed my face in record time. Slapped on some CC cream and a little eyeliner. I grabbed my wrap, jumped into my slipper boots and hustled.

Holden was waiting for me by the back door. Staring at his backpack. I snatched it up and followed behind him as he managed the steps. One crutch slipped, and I grabbed the back of his pants.

“What are you going to do give me a wedgy as I fall?” He was chuckling. I laughed with him. At least he wasn’t too angry.

We were halfway to school before he spoke again.

“I could try to do the bus if that would be easier for you.”

“Nonsense.” I said, glancing over at him. “I just overslept. I want to drive you.”

“Three times.”

“Three times what?”

“Three times in the last two weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” I shrugged. “I want to drive you to school. Just having a hard time waking up, is all.”

“Is everything okay? Like health wise?”

“Yes, like what…. I’m not sick, Holden. Don’t doomsday.”

“Well, you sleep, like, a lot.”

“I don’t sleep that much.”

“Mom, you take naps, you go to bed at nine o’clock. You have trouble getting up. It’s a lot.”

I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t argue. The last six weeks had not been my finest. The only thing I had been able to accomplish was to get a yoga routine going, and that was spotty at best. Every time I tried to commit myself to anything, I seemed to drop it before it got moving.

Don’t get me wrong, I cleaned the house, I cooked, I paid the bills mostly on time, but I was in a fog. Set to auto pilot in the worst way. Just waiting for a spare moment to lie down, shut my eyes, and drift away. Search out Julian and replay a memory or two. It would be impossible to explain. Maybe because it was as crazy as it sounded.

“You just seem distant.” He was looking out the window, but the quiver in his voice snapped me upright.

“I’m sorry buddy. You know what, I will go to the doctor today.” I patted his leg. “Maybe I’m low on some vitamin or something. Iron maybe.”

“Okay.” He didn’t look over.

I tapped to his playlist and cranked up one of our favorites. He looked over with a grin.

I watched him make his way up the concrete path to the front door. Some guy he knew had stopped and taken his backpack. Three more weeks and the cast would be off, then physical therapy, then one-on-one rehab set up by Roger, spring break with Katie and Roger, and finally back to coaching with Ben. Life mapped from now until the end of the school year.

I leaned on the steering wheel and cried.

***

“Well, well.” Dr. Cline smirked.

“Hello.” I said, slipping into the seat across from her. I fluffed up my hair, suddenly concerned with my appearance, as she looked me over. I was still in my jogging suit, but had on a little more makeup.

“You have blown me off for two months.”

“I know.”

“Then an emergency. This isn’t the way this works, Laine.”

“I know, I…” I just flopped my hands out. She knew.

“So why today?”

“I got called out by my kid.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve been sleeping too much.”

“How much?”

“A lot.”

“Can you give me a number of hours a day?”

“Maybe like eleven or twelve. But I am having trouble waking up to the alarm.”

“How are you doing with our plan?”

“Um,” I adjusted myself in the chair. “I am doing yoga about twice a week, sometimes more, but not much more.” I chewed on my lip.

“Okay, have you reconsidered the medication?”

“No, I don’t want to do that.”

“Okay, it’s either the medication or the list.” She widened her eyes at me. Her mood was off.

“I get it. I just need to get everything restarted. So, I am here and then I have to change my day, every day, going forward.” She watched me stammer.

“Is this for you or for Holden?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Some.”

“It’s for Holden. If not for him…” Tears came, and my throat temporarily closed for business.

“Laine, we need to build something in your life for you. We need this to be for you. It’s great that you want to be a better person for your kid. But there needs to be something more there.”

“I don’t really want anything, not anything I can have, anyway.” I leaned forward, stuffing back the swell that was threatening to unleash.

“What do you want that you can’t have?”

“Julian.” My lip quivered.

“How long has he been gone, Laine?”

“We are about to hit twenty years.” I blinked at the ceiling.

“Do you think he would want you mourning this long?”

I scoffed.

“He wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t in him to let go.”

“Not my question. Would he ask you to mourn this long?”

“No.” I shut my eyes.

The hospital room came back. The beeps, the smells of antiseptic, killing every natural thing about him.

“Did you two ever talk about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about this. Can we talk about something else?” My hands were shaking.

“Okay, we’ll table this discussion about Julian, but we are coming back to it.”

I was nodding, promising anything to move on. I didn’t want to talk about losing Julian. I didn’t want to talk about watching him slip away, slowly like a lamp running out of oil, dimming until there was nothing.

“How are things with Roger?”

“Fine. Vanilla.” I laughed.

“The divorce was final in what November?”

“Yes. All tidy.”

“How have you been feeling about that?”

“Fine.” I shrugged. I felt nothing about that.

“All tidy?” She grinned.

“Not quite tidy, but you know I didn’t love Roger like that. I know how that sounds, but you can’t judge me. I pay you not to judge me.” I got a little smile out of her.

“Any anger?”

“Not really. Though I did want to accidentally backout over her new flower bed when I picked up Holden last week.”

“Why is that?” Doc asked with a chuckle.

“She planted roses. A whole bed of them down the side of their driveway.”

“And?”

“Roger hates roses. I wanted roses. He never let me have them. He said they would attract deer, and they were ugly in the winter and a few other hundred reasons.” I rolled my eyes.

“Why don’t you get yourself roses now?”

I looked at her and blinked. Why didn’t I get myself roses?

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe let’s start there this week. Make a list. What do you want just for you? Not Holden, just you. No restrictions.”

“Okay.”

“Make a list. Bring it in. Let’s look at it, let’s talk about what you want and have you start going after it. It’s time, right?” She was a full grin now, proud of herself for the breakthrough.

I stopped on the way home.

I bought three rosebushes.

One for me, one for Holden, and one for Julian.