Love's Forbidden Flower (9 page)

“Hey, can you turn down the volume on the freak out?”

Donovan's bitchily complaining because I'm making an utter racket while furiously cleaning the house. I really don't give a crap who hears. But now that I have his attention, I'm ready to roar.

“Excuse me?”

“You've been in the foulest of moods lately. What's the deal?” he sneers as he runs his eyes down my body.

“Foulest of moods? Well, at least your vocabulary has improved. That's quite a jump for you.”

“What the?” He repeats the snooty look he gave a moment ago. His personal lexicon may be upgrading, but his range of body language still requires work.

“You want to know? I'll tell you, but I can’t possibly believe that you're so stupid you haven't figured this out yourself. You and I used to be so incredibly close.”

He changes his tone for fear of what I may say aloud. “Lily! Please lower your voice!”

Screw him! My amplitude continues. “All of our lives we were always there for each other, no matter what happened.”

“Lily, I'm begging you. Please, please stop. At least yell at me quietly.”

Forcing out a huffed release of air, my squinting face continues discreetly without losing my drive. “One day, things changed in a rather unorthodox way, and you didn’t seem to mind at all. Then, suddenly, you became a distant, self-serving asshole. It's bad enough you wouldn't talk to me about the changes I thought we were both experiencing, but now you never talk to me about anything. So can you at least tell me if you're totally repulsed by my feelings? You have to see what I'm confronting. So many times it seems you feel the same way, but you won’t say anything outright. I still catch you fixated on me, and I have to tell you it doesn't exactly feel like you're turned off—and now you're running away from me.”

His eyes shut with a hesitant swallow. “How did I ever let this happen?” he whispers before addressing me. “I’m not repulsed, but you're right. I am running.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? We've always talked about everything. Crap, Donovan, you've told me some serious secrets and several have to be far more embarrassing than anything you're holding back now. Damn it! Everything else aside I miss my best friend!”

Fumbling for words he looks at the ground, the ceiling, out the window. Finally he speaks, his voice laced with resignation. “Lily, you're right. You know me better than anyone else in the world, now and probably ever. Just remember that. If you really, really remember—Just look deep inside me, and you will know. Someday I will tell you everything.
I promise.
Until then, please don't stop believing in me. You're still the only one who ever has, and I know that more now than ever.”

“Oh, stop with that ‘believing in me’ crap! There has to be more going on than the obvious. You're either sad or angry, and you're constantly getting into fights. It's like you're a version of you from an alternate universe. What am I missing?”

“If I could tell you I already would have,” he barely mutters. Upon leaving the room he looks back at me through hooded eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

Griping his arm, I spin him with force. “No! You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to be all emo and make me feel sad for you. You can either man-up, and tell me what the hell is going on, or you walk away for good. I mean it. I’m done!”

He stares at the carpet in silence, leaving me with no choice. “Fine. You’ve lost me. You’ve lost your sister. You’ve lost your best friend. Clearly, you are no longer the person I used to know.”

My remaining courage thrusts me out, not just from the room but, as far as I'm concerned, every aspect of his life.

His spark is back. His voice sounds like his own, not that of the monster which possessed him for the last six months.

“Lily, I
promise
there will be a time when I will tell you everything. Meanwhile, you need to know that you are beautiful, lovely, and perfect. You do
not
repulse me. You scare me, but you certainly don’t repulse me.” His charming grin is back too, along with the happy version of his annoying eye roll, which is now delightful again.

Grabbing my hand he toys with it, surveying my eyes with the smoldering fire I have waited so long to return. “It may be a long time until you hear from me again. Just please never lose faith in me. Be patient and give me some time and space. In addition to everything else, you are truly my best friend. I’ll be back soon. Meanwhile, live your life to the fullest. Don’t hold back for me or for anyone, especially Mom and Dad. Don’t let them talk you into anything. Scratch that, I know no one can talk you into anything. That's one of the things that makes you perfect.” Choking on his last sentence he kisses my forehead and begins his departure.

“My turn?” I ask. Actually, I'm not asking. We both know there's no way I’m letting him slip out like this. He owes me, and if didn’t know his heart so well, I would have beaten the crap out of him months ago.

He returns to his previous position on the floor, hoping this isn't another bullet to dodge. Pulling myself towards him, I stroke his raven locks as my fingers have done so many times before. Surprisingly, he lets me—and he’s enjoying it—though I can tell he's a little afraid I'm about to smack him.

“I will never,
ever
lose faith in you. But I meant what I said about you losing me. I can’t go on like this forever. The only reason I have tolerated you is because I know who you really are, which is confounding, because, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what's going on. It’s far more complex than indecision about me. I know something is wrong on a very deep level, and that’s why I lost it the other day. But that doesn’t mean I am giving up on you.
Not now. Not ever.
I'm going on with my life, but I'm going to make you keep your promise. Just know that when you are ready to talk, I'm here.”

My lips repeat his closing gesture of a kiss on the forehead. As he begins to leave I stop his hand from slipping away. “Donovan, that thing you're not saying that we both know you're thinking and feeling, I'm not going to say it either, but I'm thinking and feeling it too. I’ve accepted it. When you are ready to hear it, I’ll be ready to say it. I just hope that when you get through whatever it is that's causing you so much pain that we'll be together in the end.”

“Never change who you are, Lily.”

As he grabs his bags and sneaks out the back door, memories flood me of the time I lost my heart and Donovan brought me a candy one. Can I make something resembling a spirit out of candy? Regardless, my Donovan is long gone and will remain so until his spirit returns. Prayers for him release before I sigh relief. It's time to get on with my life.

To commence my new life, I will indulge in something decadent for breakfast, not chemical laden floor scraps from a drive-thru that contains more grease than my new car will. Well, my new-to-me car. Without Donovan to schlep me around, I will soon be given the keys to a respectably used, cute little red Bug that currently sits in our driveway. It’s calling to me like a siren. Just one more week, then turning seventeen will free me of the Rhode Island Public Transit Authority.

I’m getting a job. My mind needs distractions and there is only so much baking I can do at home as an escape. Besides, Dad is getting fat. A morning of reading the want ads, sipping great coffee, and eating something enticing is the perfect birth to my new existence.

After grabbing a copy of the newspaper I head to Josette’s French Bakery. They have the best Pain Au Chocolat for miles and nothing sounds more perfect. That is, until the handwritten sign in the store window beams at me like a classic neon treasure.

Part Time Help Wanted—Kitchen Staff.

Bolting straight in, I request to speak to Josette.

Josette is a very pretty, mature lady with deep brown eyes, flowing dark brown well-dyed hair, and lovely, yet slightly loose and faded, fair skin. Her beautiful Americanized-French accent is welcoming, but it falls flat as I learn that professional kitchen experience is a requirement. Howbeit, true to my nature, and on this of all days, defeat is a word whose definition escapes me. I'm getting this damn job!

Josette possesses a warm glow that makes me feel at ease. If I can just get my foot in the door, I can win her over.

“I admit I'm inexperienced, but may I please ask what type of professional kitchen experience is required for such a position? I plan to attend pastry school upon graduation, and if I had that experience now, would that be sufficient?”

“Yes, or if you had worked in any place that required you to understand how to properly handle and store food.”

“Do you mean rules like the danger zone for food is between 40 and 135 degrees Fahrenheit; raw unshelled eggs have a maximum refrigeration life of four days; and that all food should be covered as close to the surface as possible to prolong life, lessen the chances of contamination, and help maintain freshness?” Ha! Let’s see how shocked she is now.

“Yes, that is exactly the type of thing I meant. How do you know all of that?” Josette seems to take a liking to me. Is that creaking noise in my head the door of opportunity?

“I’m very serious about my art. However, I understand that you need a solid foundation, such as understanding the basics of baking chemistry. But for fun I recently started designing with Biscuit Jaconde.”

That should get her. What other American teenage girl knows what Biscuit Jaconde is? Then again, if it hadn't been for Donovan’s encouragement and then his becoming a self-absorbed dick, forcing me to study instead of dealing with him, I wouldn't know a quarter of what I do.

“Interesting.” The wheels are spinning in Josette’s head. Is she seeing potential? Damn it, sure as fast food is disgusting this is going to work!

“Josette, what if I came back at this time tomorrow with samples of my work? If you like what I can do, would you consider me for the position?”

“You do know that I am not hiring for a baker, right? There would be some of that in time, but you would start with regimented basic duties, like cleaning.”

“I am very fine with that. I really want to start paying my dues.”

Josette’s face seems to come aglow. “Very well. I can’t wait to see what you bring. Keep in mind I will be very honest, and I know my competition. If you bought it somewhere, I will know.”

“I will be sure to add my special touches so that you will be immediately certain I made the items myself!”

“Very well then! See you tomorrow.”

I love everything about my job; from the grime I scrub off of the floor to my talented coworkers—even the ditsy one. Though totally exhausted, I'm grateful that when night falls slumber immediately cloaks me leaving no time to ponder the emotional upheaval of losing what I consider most precious.