Carpe Diem, page 13
“So how do you control it?”
Now I have a choice—do I let him in on the secret I haven’t been able to confess to anyone else or do I keep it hidden away? I’m not sure it would help him in any way. I’m not sure it helps me or if it is the illusion that keeps me returning to the hospital.
If I choose to tell him, will he think me a nut case? Will he think less of me?
In the end, I choose not to tell him. It’s not a secret I am ready to part with just yet. Maybe one day I will share it with him or someone else, and even though I have not been to the hospital in months, sitting here thinking about it makes me want to go again.
“Lots of ways. I reach out to my friends or my daughter. I remember the good times we had.”
I want to ask him what happened, I want to help him, I just don’t know how. He doesn’t say anything for a long time. I do not try to break the silence, I will let him when he is ready.
“Do you hate her family?” he finally asks.
“Why would I hate her family? I don’t believe I have a reason to.”
“I’m sure you do, you just don’t know it. I envy you for that.”
My heart breaks for him, there is obviously a long and complicated story about the death of his wife. I want to ask him what happened, what is it that keeps him so angry. Maybe I can help, but before I get that chance he interrupts my thoughts.
“I should get going,” he tells me.
“So soon?” I joke, attempting to lighten the mood a little.
“You have wasted enough of your time on me.”
“Kyle, it wasn’t a waste of my time. I enjoyed your company,” I assure him as I lay my hand on his. “Let me give you my number. Just in case you need someone to talk to,” I add.
He offers a small smile and again I see the same struggle I saw in the grocery store.
“You don’t have you use it if you don’t want to, but you will have it in case you do.” I smile.
“Thank you that would be great,” he says.
Kyle walks me back to my car as a gentleman would do and tells me to drive safe. I do the same and wave as I drive away.
I cannot stop thinking about Kyle on the way home. His sadness runs deep and I am not sure how to help him. I feel bad for him. He seems to be taking her death hard, harder than I have ever seen anyone take a death of a loved one before. I am actually starting to wonder if there is something wrong with me. Should I still be that sad? Should I still be wandering around as I did those first few months? Should I be this happy?
I suppose those are the same questions everyone who has lost a loved one asks themselves. When is it too soon to start living again?
With my thoughts running between Jack and Kyle and how I should be feeling, the drive home seemed to take only a moment. I quickly unload the groceries from my car and start prepping our meal for tomorrow. I want the ham to marinate in the honey brine overnight and I want to get some of the snacks ready for the oven in the morning.
Next, I wrap Bryna’s gifts and place them under the tree then carefully fill her stocking. I go ahead and put a few wrapped items in my own stocking for giggles.
After everything is set, I plug in the Christmas tree lights and curl up on the couch to watch Scrooged, one of my all-time favorite Christmas movies that I know Bryna will not want to watch.
Bill Murray is about to the meet the ghost of Christmas Present when I feel my eyes getting heavy. I think to myself that I should get my ass off the couch and head up to my bed, but I am so incredibly comfortable right here.
I realize that I had fallen asleep on the couch when I am woken by the sound of the floorboard creaking. My first instinct is to jump up and see what or who caused the noise, however, reason takes over and I stay quiet and listen. I almost convince myself that it could be my imagination after not hearing anything for what seemed like an eternity, that is until I hear it again.
I peek open one eye and see that it is still dark out and quickly close it again. My heart is pounding so hard I think it will leap from my cheat, but I manage to listen as I take slow, deep breaths, making it look like I am still sleeping.
CREEEEEEEK
CREEEEEEEK
Okay, someone is definitely in my house. Judging by the direction of the creek, he or she must be close—by the tree would be my best guess. I open my eyes just a sliver to see if I can see anything and manage to make out a shape of a person hunched over the gifts. It is the shape of a man and he is wearing a dark jacket.
What do I do? Do I lie here and hope he leaves? Do I jump up and scream? My phone is in front of me on the coffee table. Do I risk trying to grab it to call the police?
My questions are soon answered when I feel him next to me. I can feel him watching me. When he moves the blanket that was laying next to my legs, my primal need to survive kicks in and I start thrashing my arms and kicking my legs while screaming.
“Don’t touch me. Take whatever you want just don’t hurt me. Just leave now and I won’t call the police!” I scream
“PIPER. Stop, Piper. It’s me, Flynn.”
“FLYNN! What in the giant fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry. You looked cold. I was only going to cover you up before I left.”
“Fine, but what are you doing here, in my house, in the middle of the night?”
“I was hoping to be in and out, I wanted to drop off a few gifts for you and Bryna.”
“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack,” I scold him
“I’m sorry, I thought you would be asleep in your room, not on the couch. I thought that I could sneak in and out without you knowing.”
“Why didn’t you just bring them over tomorrow, you know during the day when I would be, you know, awake?”
“Because I thought it would be fun to play Santa for you guys this year.”
I pause at his words. If it wasn’t such a sweet idea, I would kill him for scaring the living shit out of me. It took me months to get used to the idea of being home alone every night, then a few more months to clear the thoughts of being robbed in the middle of the night without being able to protect myself.
“Okay, that was sweet of you, but next time you decide to break into my house in the middle of the night let me know.” I laugh.
“I know, I’m sorry, I guess I thought…” he trails off.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m awake now, do you want some coffee?” I ask.
I could see he was embarrassed and now regretted his sweet intention. I know he meant well, so I suppose I can let him off the hook.
“No, I should go, you should go back to sleep.”
“Oh hell, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” I smile and toss the blanket back on the couch and I stand up.
“Piper, I am so sorry.”
“It’s fine, you had good intentions. Although remind me to get my key back from you.” I joke.
I walk into the kitchen to make the coffee and see the clock on the microwave 5:37 a.m. I can’t remember the last time I was up this early.
I pour the water and beans into the coffee maker and press Start. When I turn around, I see Flynn standing next to the center island and staring at the floor where we almost kissed.
“Is that why you have been so distant lately?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Flynn, since Thanksgiving you have been making excuses not to come over and when you are here you are not yourself. Something is on your mind and I assume it has to do with that night.”
“You noticed that huh?”
“Flynn? Really? You were over here every few days to check on me or fix something and then you drop by a few times and make excuses when I invite you over. How was I not going to notice?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you would be more comfortable if I gave you some space.”
“Flynn, nothing happened.”
“But it almost did and that would have been inappropriate on my part.”
I walk around the counter and look deep into his eyes.
“Flynn, you have been such a help to me these past months. Your friendship means the world to me and a little thing like getting drunk and almost kissing me is not going to ruin that,” I tell him.
I leave out the part where drunk me actually might have wanted him to kiss me.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes. Now let it go, nothing happened, it’s fine,” I tell him.
Flynn gives me a smile and nods.
“Now, if you grab my ass we may have to have some words,” I joke.
“Deal,” he replies.
As Flynn and I take a seat at the dining room table to chat and drink our coffee, the front door opens and Bryna walks in.
“Merry Christmas,” she announces.
“Bryna, what are you doing here so early?” I ask, running to give her a hug
“I don’t know. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I would just get in the car and come home,” she explains.
“Flynn? What are you doing here?” she asks, walking over to give him a giant hug.
“It’s a long story I’m sure your mom will tell you later,” he tells her.
“Well, Merry Christmas. You are going to stay right?”
“Actually, I should get going.”
“No, stay. I have a gift for you.”
“No, I will let you and your mom get some sleep.”
“Pretty plllllllleeeeeeeeeeae stay?” she begs.
“You are more than welcome. I have plenty of food,” I tell him.
“Fine. I will stay for a little while.”
“Yay! I will go bring my stuff up to my room and then we can open presents and make breakfast.”
“Bryna, it’s six o’clock in the morning. Don’t you want to get some sleep after your drive? We can open gifts when you get up,” I ask.
“Um no. The rule is if we are all awake we get to open presents,” she reminds me.
“Okay, if that’s what you want to do.” I laugh.
While Bryna brings her things to her room, I wander back into the kitchen to put the French toast bake I prepared last night into the oven. By the time we are done with gifts, it should be ready to eat.
I hear Bryna and Flynn talking in the living room and when I walk around the corner, I see Bryna now dressed in her pajamas and has already passed out the small number of gifts like she used to do when she was a little girl.
Watching her smile as she shakes the gifts in front of her reminds me of Jack. He used to pick up each gift, shake it, and then try to guess what it was. Granted they were never real guesses because there was no way a Lamborghini or elephant was going to be in the box.
“Okay enough, you don’t want to break whatever is in there do you?” I call to her.
“Whatever I can tell it’s clothes,” she says, shaking the gift I know is not clothing.
“Well, go ahead and open it,” I tell her as I take a seat close by.
Bryna rips open the paper without a second thought and pieces are flying around. She carefully folds open the box flaps. She can see it is not clothing, but I can tell she still has no idea what it is.
Grabbing at the fabric, she carefully removes it from the box and unfolds to see the quilt I had made from her dad's old shirts.
“Oh my God, Mom? Are these… Are these Dad’s shirts?” she asks as the tears start to form.
“Yes, honey they are.”
She runs her hands over each large square that used to be a tee shirt. She also stops to look at each picture and the little messages that say things like “Daddy’s Little Girl” that were stitched in by hand.
“I remember this day,” she says as she wipes the tears way and points to a picture that was taken at the zoo about ten years ago. “Oh or this one when we all went to that county fair.”
“Do you like it?”
“Mom, I absolutely love it.”
As soon as she has finished looking over every inch of the quilt, she dries her eyes and gives me the biggest hug she has ever given me.
“Thank you, Mom, it’s perfect. I love you,” she whispers in my ear and kisses my cheek.
I can’t find the words through my tears so I squeeze her tight.
“Okay, your turn, Mom.”
“I think we need to take a break after that one,” I joke, wiping the giant waterfall from my face.
“No, we keep going. Here open your gift from Flynn,” she says, handing me a small box.
“Ah, mine can wait,” he tells us.
“No she can open it now,” Bryna tells him.
My curiosity is piqued when Bryna gives him a little look. I have no doubt these two have been conspiring.
When I open the small box, I am amazed to find a necklace, but not just any necklace. It looks like they have taken one of the red coffee mug pieces and placed it in a kind of clear resin. Attached is a small charm that has an image of a coffee mug and reads “Carpe Diem.”
My tears are free flowing again as I hold it in my hands, cherishing it. What a wonderful, thoughtful gift this is.
“I hope you don’t mind that I stole a piece when you weren’t looking,” Flynn asks.
“Not at all, I absolutely love it.”
“Bryna gave me the idea,” he tells me.
I look over to Bryna, who is sporting the biggest smile I have ever seen. She looks so happy at this moment.
“I can’t take all the credit. I was on Pinterest and saw something similar.”
“I absolutely love it. You could not have thought of a better gift. Thank you,” I say again.
I give them both a giant hug and then Bryna helps me put it on. As it rests against my skin, I can almost feel a warmth come over me.
Once our tears are back under control, Bryna hands Flynn a gift to open, but I interrupt.
“Wait. Not that one,” I announce.
Neither of them says a word as I stand and walk over to the front closet. I am careful not to let them see what I am grabbing just yet. I fold it neatly over my arm and tell Flynn to close his eyes.
Bryna does a good job of making sure he doesn’t cheat and nods when she is convinced he is not peeking.
I turn around and walk back over to where they are sitting. Bryna recognizes what I have and gives me an approving smile.
“I wasn’t sure when the right time would be to give this to you, but I think now is the right moment. Go ahead and open your eyes.”
“Ha, Jack still had this.” He smiles.
“Yes, it didn’t actually fit anymore, but he thought one day he might be able to get it back on,” I tell him.
Flynn takes his time looking over the jean jacket that at one time had given him such pleasure in teasing Jack. It was a brotherly like teasing that Jack must have enjoyed since he continued to wear the jacket.
“Are you sure you want to part with this Piper?” Flynn asked.
“I think he would have wanted you to have it,” I tell him.
New Year’s Eve, the doorway into the New Year and to new adventures, also known as the last hurrah of the year we are ready to say good-bye to. A day everyone takes a few moments to reflect on the past and ponder future resolutions. A day that we remember those that have entered our lives, but didn’t get to stay.
Then there is the kiss. The kiss that sets the tone for the year to come, according to folklore anyway. It is said that the first person you encounter will set the tone for your year. For couples, it will reaffirm their bond to each other while a single person kissing a random loser will suggest a bad year of dating, and should a single person not find someone to kiss as the clock strikes twelve they are destined to have a year of loneliness. It’s a good thing I don’t believe in folklore, although I do believe in celebrating with friends.
I decided to hire Chef Basil to make us some normal, meaning nonspam, appetizers for me to serve. He, of course, was overjoyed with my request and then offered to drop them off for me.
I, invited everyone. However, since we normally spend every New Year’s Eve together, it was kind of a given that they would be at my house anyway. The only difference is that I requested everyone dress in black tie or as close as they could. I wanted to change things up a little this year. I thought it would be fun to say good-bye to such a crazy year in style rather than in our normal blue jeans and sweatshirts. Plus it gives me a reason to wear my dress again.
I may have gone a little overboard with the decorations. Black and silver streamers are draped over anything that would hold it, balloon bouquets in every corner, and those silly little firework centerpiece things all over the table. It kind of looks like Pinterest Decorating 101 threw up in here. I’m putting the final touches on my decorations when Chef Basil knocks on the door.
“Well, hello again, gorgeous,” he greets.
“Hello, come on in,” I offer.
“Oh honey, have I worked some magic for you,” he claims.
I show him to the kitchen where he unloads the first of the four large pans he tells me he has for me.
“Okay, sugar, come over here and take a peek at my masterpiece so I can show you what you need to do,” he says, waving me over to him.
“I hope it’s foolproof,” I tell him.
“Oh, honey. Don’t you worry your pretty little head off, a monkey couldn’t mess this up.”
“You never know with me these days.”
“Girly, you are gonna do just fine. Chef Basil hooked you up,” he tells me, snapping his fingers.
Chef Basil has to be the only person that I have met that instantly puts a smile on my face. Okay, I have only met him a few times but each time I laughed and smiled uncontrollably from the moment he entered the room. If only he wasn’t gay.
He walks me through the effortless instructions for each pan, kisses me on both cheeks, wishes me a happy New Year during his good-bye and is soon sashaying back to his car. As soon as I shut the front door, I hear my cell phone alert for a text message.
KYLE: Happy New Year, I hope you have a happy evening and that the coming year is better than the last few.
His message is both sweet and sad at the same time. I’m not sure how everyone would feel about this, but I decide to invite him over for the party. Maybe it will remind him there is more to life then grieving for the ones we have lost.
