ENGLEWOOD AVENUE ISN’T FAR FROM THE FLOWER SHOP. IT’S in one of the nice older neighborhoods near the hospital. Nina says it has character. Most new houses kind of look the same. But the older houses around Englewood are quaint and charming, and have lovely yards with big trees.
As I drove, darkness had just begun to fall, and I noticed that, unlike in newer housing developments, fancy Christmas displays didn’t greet me at every turn. I pulled up to the little gray house with white shutters. A FOR SALE sign stood in the front yard. I walked up to the front door, adorned with a giant wreath, and knocked. A minute passed before a petite lady with short white hair and very wrinkly skin opened the door. She wore navy slacks and a blue sweatshirt with two large red ladybugs on it.
“Hello. I’m from Full Bloom. I have a delivery for Ella.”
The woman didn’t crack a smile. “Yes, that’s me. Who are they from?”
I drummed up as much enthusiasm as I could. “It’s a secret! From a friend. That’s all I know. But isn’t that nice?”
She scowled. “I don’t want them.”
“Oh, don’t say that. They’re pretty, aren’t they? Can I come in? I’ll help you find the perfect place to put them.”
The lines on the woman’s face seemed to grow deeper before my eyes. She shook her head slightly. “You don’t understand. I’m only here for a few more days. On Sunday they move me out.”
Clearly she wasn’t happy about moving, and I couldn’t help but want to know more. “Where are you going?”
Moisture filled her eyes. “Park Place Assisted Living.” Ella took a deep breath. Anger covered her next words. “I’ve lived here for forty-two years. And then one day my son thinks I’m an invalid and tells me I have to move.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
We stood there for a few seconds, neither of us quite sure where flowers fit into the equation.
“So, don’t think of the flowers as celebrating the move,” I said. “Think of them as a good-bye gift. Maybe one of your neighbors wanted you to know that you’ll be missed but was too shy to say so.” Ella didn’t say anything, so I kept talking. “They’ll make your last few days here special. When you look at them, maybe you’ll think, ‘Someone cares about me.’ ”
Her posture relaxed a bit. “All right. You can bring them in.”
I followed Ella through the family room, where moving boxes sat against the walls, to an old dining room table. The table looked out a big picture window, into her backyard. And what a yard. Even in the twilight I could tell Ella had a serious green thumb. Trees in all different shapes and sizes stood against the fence line, with low-lying shrubs and colorful winter pansies filling the flower beds.
“Your yard is amazing,” I said.
“Thank you. It’s my pride and joy. I’ve always loved the outdoors, getting my hands dirty. And when it’s too cold to be outside, I can sit here with a cup of coffee and a good book and enjoy the view.”
“You like to read?” I asked.
“Yes. Very much. I worked as a school librarian for many years.”
“Really? I want to be an English teacher.”
It made me smile, the thought of her helping kids find books they’d like to read. I liked Ella. I could imagine myself sitting down at the table with her and talking books for hours.
Just then, Ella scurried by me, into the nearby kitchen. She went to the stove, turned the dial, and picked up a pan with steam rising out of it.
“It’s my dinnertime,” she explained.
“Oh, right. Well, I should go then. I hope you enjoy the flowers. And good luck with your move.”
I had started for the front door when Ella called out to me. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, but . . . well, would you like to stay? For dinner?”
I stopped. Nina was expecting me back at the shop to finish up a few things before I went home. But something told me Ella needed me more than the flowers did.
“It’s nothing fancy,” she continued. “Just some leftover spaghetti. There’s enough for both of us, if you’d like to join me.”
I smiled. “My name is Rae. And I’d love to stay and have dinner with you.”
poetry journal—december
GRANDMA
Every other Saturday,
we’d head to the library,
she and I.
“How many can I get?”
I’d ask each time.
“As many as we can carry!”
she’d reply.
Our arms full of
faraway places,
we’d go back to her house,
where she’d dish up
steaming bowls of
tomato soup and
grilled cheese sandwiches
for lunch.
I’d count out the crackers
before I crumbled them
into my soup.
“One, two, three, four.”
“Who’s the girl I most adore?”
she’d reply in her singsongy voice.
“Me?”
“You!”
I miss those days
of books,
of soup,
of Grandma and me.
Those days of sweet, sweet love.
enough is enough
I FORGOT TO CALL NATHAN.
I got caught up in thinking about Ella and how she reminded me a little bit of my grandma and ended up writing a poem after I got home.
We’d had a really nice dinner, slurping our spaghetti noodles like old friends. She’d told me all about her son and how he constantly worried. Since her eighty-fifth birthday, it’d gotten even worse. He’d call her three or four times a day, just to check on her. She said the move was more for him than for her. It made her angry, how he didn’t seem to have any regard for how she felt about the situation.
“Why can’t he just let me be?” she’d asked me. “If something happens, well, it happens. I am an old lady, after all.”
I could see her point. And she seemed pretty capable to me.
“He loves you, that’s all,” I’d told her.
As I got ready to leave, I’d asked if I could come and visit her at her new place. She’d said she’d like that. I was already looking forward to it.
At nine my phone rang. I turned down the volume on my music before I answered.
“You didn’t call me” were the first words out of Nathan’s mouth.
“Oh, sorry. Lost track of time. See, I got this envelope—” I wanted to tell him about meeting Ella.
“Dinner was a total disaster,” he said. “Mom found out about Dad’s affair. She found texts on his cell phone.”
I sat straight up on my bed. “Are you serious? And she confronted him at dinner? With you there?”
He sniffled a little bit, and I wondered if he’d been crying. “Yeah. I could tell something was up. She stayed quiet the whole way there. Dad tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t have any of it. After we ordered, she let him have it. It’s like she wanted to humiliate him in public or something. I don’t know. Rae, I wanted to die.”
“So what’d you do?”
“She left before our food arrived. Told Dad she was taking a taxi home and if he had any sense at all, he’d get a hotel room. He and I stayed and tried to eat, but our appetites were gone.”
“Nathan, I’m so sorry.” And I did feel bad for him. It was bad enough having parents argue behind closed doors, but in public? I couldn’t even imagine.
“I need to see you. Can I come over?”
“Now? It’s late and my stepdad is home for a change. Trust me, you don’t—”
“Come on. I need you, Rae. If I can’t go over there, could you come here? Mom is holed up in her room, so we’d be alone.”
I was torn. I didn’t doubt for a second he did need someone. But I didn’t really know what to do for him. He probably needed to see his mom more than he needed to see me. I’m sure he felt betrayed, like the one family member he co
uld count on had turned on him, in a way.
“Like I said, it’s late. I’ll stay on the phone with you for a while, if that will help.”
“Don’t you get it? I need you right now. You’re the only one who gives a shit about me. The only one who cares how I feel. I have to see you. I’ll be there in a few.”
He hung up before I could protest. I tried calling him back, but he didn’t answer. I decided I’d better go out and warn Dean we’d be having a visitor.
Nathan had been to my house to pick me up a few times, but he’d never been inside. What would he think? His house was nice. Really, really nice. Ours? Not so much.
Dean was sitting on the couch, a tower of empty beer cans on the coffee table. “Hey, Rae, can you make me a sandwich? I’m starving.”
I went to work picking up his cans. “A friend of mine is coming over. He’s kind of depressed and needs to talk to me. Please be nice to him, okay?”
“Make me a big ol’ sandwich and I’ll kiss the guy’s stinkin’ feet.”
I took the cans to the recycling bin and went back to the family room to straighten up. Bills and junk mail were scattered everywhere. “Do these need to be paid?” I asked, starting to stack them.
“Hey, what are you doing?” He stood up and snatched the papers out of my hands. “Don’t mess with my stuff. Go make me a sandwich, like I told you.” He threw the papers on the coffee table.
“Can I please put all of that in your room or somewhere out of the way?” I asked.
“No!” He pointed to the kitchen. “Get in there. Now. I’m not gonna tell you again.”
It was hopeless. He was wasted and in a foul mood. My best bet was to get Dean fed, then push Nathan into my bedroom when he arrived. Wouldn’t Nathan love that?
I looked in the fridge for some lunch meat, but we were out. I grabbed a can of tuna fish from the cupboard and went to work cutting up pickles and onions. I wasn’t quite finished putting it all together when the doorbell rang.
I rushed to get it, but Dean was already inviting Nathan inside.
“It’s awful late to be visiting a girl, isn’t it?” Dean asked as he closed the door. “Especially on a school night?”
“It’s not that late,” Nathan said, smiling. “We’re not third graders, right?”
I winced. Arguing with the guy was not a good idea. “Nathan, come here. I was just making Dean a sandwich. Help me in the kitchen and then we can go to my room.”
“No,” Dean said. “He can stay here with me while you finish up.” He motioned at the couch. “Take a seat. You like wrestling?”
Nathan sat on the couch. “Not really. But you do?”
“Hell, yeah. Check out who’s matched up—”
I went back to the sandwich, hoping Dean wouldn’t say anything to embarrass me. He could talk wrestling for hours, so if they stuck to that, everything would be fine.
Of course, that was wishful thinking. When I took the plate out, Dean was standing, his arms crossed. He looked at me accusingly. “Rae, this kid drives a brand-new Jetta? What kind of high school punk drives a car nicer than most adults’ in Crestfield?” He looked at Nathan. “Are you dealing drugs, son?”
Nathan raised his arms like he was surrendering to the enemy. “No, I’m not dealing drugs.” He chuckled. “Sorta wish I was, though.”
I gave Dean the plate. “Stop it. His dad has a good job. So what? Maybe you could get one too if you tried a little harder.”
I’d wanted to divert the attention away from Nathan. It worked. Dean narrowed his eyes and glared at me. If Nathan hadn’t been there, he probably would have let off a string of obscenities. “Shit, Rae, I’m trying. I really am.”
I waved at Nathan. “Come on.”
Nathan got up and followed me to my room.
“You okay?” he asked. “You were a little rough on him out there.”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, no. Don’t do that. Don’t defend him. Unless you want me to hate you forever.”
He came over and pulled me to him. “I definitely don’t want that.” He kissed me. “You’re the only good thing I’ve got in this world right now.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my neck. “The only one who makes me happy.”
His lips moved up my neck, slowly, and then he nibbled on my ear. His hands moved underneath my T-shirt and caressed my back. I don’t know why, but it annoyed me. Was this why he’d come over?
I wriggled out of his arms. “Nathan, come on. Dean could come in here any minute.”
He pulled me to him again. “Nah. He wouldn’t do that. He knows we want to be alone.”
I pushed him away again, harder this time. “I thought you wanted to talk? About what happened at dinner?”
He sat on my bed and pulled me onto his lap. “No. That’s the last thing I want to do. I want to forget about it.” He kissed me. “Come on. Help me forget about it.”
So we were back to this again. His promises conveniently forgotten. It was all about him. What he wanted. What he needed. I hadn’t even wanted him to come over. But did he care? Did he care how I felt about anything?
I stood up and pointed at the door. “You need to go home.”
Nathan laughed. “No, come on. I just got here.”
Suddenly, everything about him infuriated me. The way he discounted everything I said. The way he needed me all the time. The way he tried to win me over with compliments.
What was I doing with him?
“Nathan,” I said, gentler this time. “This isn’t working. Me and you? I’m ending it. Right now. It’s over. I’m sorry, I know you’ve got a lot going on, but I can’t do this anymore.”
He stared at me, like someone had just told him the earth was about to explode. He shook his head, slowly at first, then faster. “No. No, you don’t mean it.” He stood up, his eyes pleading with me. “We belong together, Rae. You know it. Maybe I shouldn’t have come over here like this, I just—”
I backed toward the door as he talked, and he followed. “You need to go. Now. Or I’ll call Dean and he’ll make you leave.”
It was like I’d flipped a switch. Nathan’s shock turned to anger. I could see it all over his face. He looked like he wanted to punch something.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
“It’s for the best. Really. I mean, we can still be friends. If you want,” I said quietly, but firmly.
He flung open the door so it banged against the wall. “No thanks.”
He stormed out. I listened as he and Dean exchanged a few words, but I couldn’t hear what they said. And I wasn’t about to go out there. After a minute or so I heard the front door open and close.
I waited, wondering if Dean would come and ask what had happened. But he didn’t. I went to the bathroom and got ready for bed.
When I came back, my phone was buzzing.
It was Nathan. I turned it off and crawled into bed, trying to convince myself I had made things better for myself, not worse.
gone
I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE THE RELIEF I FELT WHEN NATHAN WASN’T waiting for me at my locker the next morning. I’d expected a big, ugly showdown. The kind the whole school buzzes about all day long. I was so glad I didn’t get one.
I grabbed my stuff and headed to the benches to find Alix and Felicia. I wanted to tell them about the breakup before they heard it from someone else.
Alix jumped up when she saw me and pulled me over to a quiet corner. “Why is your phone off? What happened? Why’d you break up with him?”
“Who told you?”
“Santiago. I guess after Nathan left your place last night, he went over there. It was not a good scene. Santiago’s dad had to ask him to leave. Nathan was apparently pissed off and letting the entire neighborhood know it.”
I hugged my books tightly to my chest. “See, Alix? Something is seriously wrong with the guy.”
“He was just upset.” She gave me a hug. “Are you okay? I mean, he didn’t freak out on you again, di
d he?”
“I didn’t give him the chance. Luckily, my stepdad was there, so Nathan did as I asked.” I looked past her. “Have you seen him yet today?”
“No. I don’t think he’s here yet.”
We stood in the corner, waiting, until the bell rang. Nathan never showed up at the benches. Maybe he’d decided it’d be best to avoid the hangout spot. Or was he skipping school entirely? I felt a little tinge of worry. What if he’d done something terrible? No, I told myself. He’s fine. Nathan’s probably just playing games, hoping I’ll get worried and call him.
Still, I turned on my phone to check for any missed calls. There wasn’t anything from Nathan since the one last night. I didn’t know whether I should be relieved or upset.
Well, I wasn’t going to call him. He wasn’t my responsibility. Was he?
I went to English, feeling like I’d swallowed a pincushion. There was a reminder on the board about submitting poetry for the January issue. The deadline was today.
Felicia sat down and placed the December issue on my desk. “Check it out. Anonymous started something. There’s a couple of more in there this time.”
I turned to the poetry pages. The anonymous ones were grouped together. Along with mine, there was a poem about bulimia. And someone else had written a poem about a relative who’d committed suicide.
“Wow,” I said. “That’s great. Isn’t it? That more people want to share?”
She nodded as Ms. Bloodsaw started class.
I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a short poem right there on the spot. It came easily. And afterward I felt a little less guilty about breaking up with Nathan.
What I’ve Learned
by Anonymous
I’m not the floor
to be walked on
or the hammer
to be used.
I’m not the choir
to sing your praises
or the commercials
to be ignored.
I’m the baby bird
wanting to fly
and the orchid
starting to bloom.
I’m the bonfire