Our Last Time: A Novel (16 page)

July 16
th
, 1997, 1:08p.m.

Willow

“Do you have a wish ready for the Make-A-Wish?” I asked Kennedy.

We were at Cape’s, eating lunch. I was asking him a question that I figured would make him feel uncomfortable, but I had to know if he was at least thinking about it. I hadn’t wanted his last few moments on earth to be terrible.

Kennedy smiled. “I have you. What else could I wish for? I want nothing else,” he replied.

I studied him and his chocolate mustache. “Is it because of the ‘Money Doesn’t Buy Happiness Act’?”

He shrugged. “I feel like money can’t buy
my
happiness specifically, but if I had the chance to spend someone else’s money at this point and time, I definitely would,” he raised his eyebrows. “Did you forget that time we went to Six Flags, Will? I spent my wish on Six Flags.”

“No, I don’t remember, and
no
you did not…” I groaned. “Ugh, kids. They do the dumbest things, don’t they?”

Kennedy nodded. “Six Flags was pretty dumb, and it was also the least exciting thing that happened in my life so far,” he said. “But I was seven, Will; seven-year-old's hardly have brains.”

He made it so far compared to seven years,
I thought.

“True,” I commented. I drank the last of my milkshake using my two straws. “I wish we could do something big, though. I want to do something huge with you that I’ll remember for the rest of my life,” I told him.

He nodded, grinning. “I’m working on it.”

“On what?” I raised my eyebrows. “You can’t leave me in the dark, Kennedy. That’s against the rules.”

We were about to throw away our trash and leave Cape’s.

Kennedy crumpled his trash in his hand, and then stuffed it inside of his empty milkshake cup as I did the same. “There are no rules when it comes to life choices. Every individual goes with their own flow. What I’m working on is a plan, Willow, but a
secret
plan. It’s a surprise for us,” he went on. “So you can keep yourself guessing, or you can create a plan of your own,” he suggested.

“Hmm,” I stalled. “I’ll leave myself alone with thoughts for now, but I’m on to you, mister. You know I absolutely hate what surprises do to me.”

He sighed, longingly.

“You’re the most loving person I know. I look past your supposed hatred for surprises, but only because I know you don’t have a shred of hatred within you,” he responded. “But it’s normal for people to be confused about these things, for
you
to, I mean. People tend to dislike the things and feelings they don’t understand.”

Kennedy had a serious passion for surprises. He had great surprises, and I had always known that. It wasn’t surprises that I hated; it was the suspense
before
the surprise. The constant waiting, wondering. I hated having to expect something unrecognized. A surprise to
me
was like wearing a blindfold up until a certain time and moment. You heard things, but you hadn’t seen them.

“Give me your explanation,” I said simply.

He sat up straighter and looked me intently in the eyes before crossing his arms over the table. “They’re spare of the moment activities that make your heart race. They produce these exhilarating feelings that give a person the illusion that they’re more alive somehow. It’s beautiful, Will. It’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m not going to die until you see that,” he winked.

“That’s fair,” I nodded, smiling. “You know I’m open to convincing. Anything is possible.”

We stood to our feet and threw our trash away before turning towards the exit.

“I have hope for lots of things, Will. You get no hints. Expect nothing, accept everything, and you know the rest,” he said to me.

We rode on our bikes for a while. We rode to a nearby flower patch, and we had picked a few flowers that hadn’t belonged to us. We talked about the meanings of flowers. I picked the
last
three flowers that I considered my favorite while he picked a few favorites.

We went to our home, and sat around on our bean bags and talked until the sky went dark. We had said Hello before parting ways. I walked inside of my house holding three blue roses in their rarity, and I gave one to my mom, one to my dad. They wowed and awed, and said,
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as a blue rose!”

I agreed with them. They told me they loved the flower.

I filled a clear cup with water, half-full - then I put the last blue rose in
that cup
before carrying it to my bedroom.

I sat on my bed uncovered, and I stared out the window next to my bed. I stared at the ledge, where the blue rose was resting, and I thought of the meaning of beauty.

-

beau·ty

ˈ
byo͞odē/

noun

1. A combination of qualities such as shape, color, and/or form that pleases a person’s senses, particularly the sight.

2. An alluring or pleasing person.

-

I thought the first primary definition of
beauty
represented a blue rose. A blue rose had a beautiful color, shape, and smell. The second primary definition of
beauty
easily represented Kennedy, because what person could be more beautiful than someone that only paid attention to beautiful things?

I then stared at the blue rose and also thought about how beauty could be disguised. How nature could be disguised by unnatural things, and then I thought: is there
really
such a thing as a blue rose?

I had gotten up to find out.

I neared the ledge, and then I grabbed the blue rose. I turned it upside down. It was blue everywhere,
no marks
, but this flower was disguised. I was holding a white rose that was dyed
blue
and desperation to prove this to myself caught up with me. I dunked the flower in the water. I left it there as I stepped back, and I watched as the water
slowly
changed
color
.

I then thought about beauty again, and I thought about how it couldn’t be disguised for long. This flower was beautiful all in its own, blue, white, or even rainbow colored.

I placed my hand over my chest, realizing I just convinced myself that surprises are, in fact, beautiful things. They are absolutely and undeniably beautiful.

September 2
nd
, 2006, 9:02a.m.

Willow

My parents were
early risers on purpose. My mother had been self-employed ever since she started selling home-grown produce; she had a good name for herself in the small town she lived in. My dad had been retired from the Air Force ever since he turned forty-two. My parents had always liked getting up early, because what they had to wake up to wouldn’t be a disappointing, life-draining job. They had gotten a paycheck for doing the things they enjoyed doing.

My dad liked playing golf with his golf friends, and he enjoyed watching football with his bar friends. Though my dad was quite the risk-taker, he was pretty close with gambling’s. I assumed he liked having extra time with my mom as well. He loved her. I knew he could never stop loving her.

My mother hadn’t had friends, because she hadn’t trusted girls and dad hadn’t trusted men. She was always in her garden. She liked having fresh vegetables and fruits; she liked showing her beautiful garden off, and she liked watching people bid for her creations. My mom had always loved cooking home-grown meals. She’d merely stick her nose up to anything microwavable; my mother was overall humorous and accepting. If I had to pick a woman as my favorite woman, Annabelle Monroe would easily be the person I’d choose. I looked up to her.

Caitlyn and I were the ones with boring lives. We hated waking up, and going on with our days,
well
- most of the time, anyway. Wyatt had recently changed my attitude regarding people and surroundings and
life
in general. I was slowly becoming the Willow I used to be, but somehow I was becoming a
better
Willow. I was almost a more mature Willow, a less naïve Willow, and a more cautious Willow. It was the color that made up my skin that was slowly going back to normal, as in I was slowly starting to feel
alive
again. Kennedy’s death had hit me harder than anything that had ever happened to me in my life.

I wanted to be able to live on without him and I was starting to accept the fact that I no longer had him here to live with. He wanted me to accept it all, and to live a great life without him. If only he knew, somehow, that it had taken nine years.

Annette was already downstairs with my mother, helping her cook breakfast. I had always ended up finding Annette in the kitchen with my mother every time we visited Tennessee. She loved her grandmother so much. She loved Tennessee, too. I stood in my pajamas with my hair matted, and pointing in every direction as I looked at the two beautiful people living in front of me.

“Good morning, dear. You’re up late this morning,” my mother pointed out, teasing me.

“I was on a plane not that long ago,” I said as an excuse. I walked up and sat on a stool as I watched them scramble around the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffed. “Your flight lasted less than two hours, you big baby.”

“
Mom
,” I whined.

“Mommy complains all the time, nana,” Annette tattled on me, giggling.

“Ah,” my mother raised her eyebrows as she vigorously stirred some batter in a bowl. “Well, little one, she’s a young woman. Typically, women rather than men, but mostly
young
women, are unpleasant to be around.”

I shook my head, grinning. “Would either of you like some help?” I offered.

“We’ve got it,” my mother smiled warmly, her tone reassuring. “How about you wake up Caitlyn, and you two work on getting ready. We have plans for the day after breakfast.”

“Why must I wake her up?” I groaned. “You have no idea how violent Caitlyn is when she’s fatigue.”

My mother sighed. “You’re a twenty-seven-year-old woman, Willow. You should know not to give your mother lip by now.”

I casually stood up, and went to where my mother and my daughter were standing. I threw my arms over my mother’s shoulders, and I hugged her tightly.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too, daughter,” she sighed a blissful sigh, and then she had squeezed me.

Annette soon hugged our legs, causing our knees to slightly buckle.

My father was in the living room, sitting in his recliner. We caught his attention, and I had heard him get up out of his chair as I looked over my mother’s shoulder.

I smiled before I mouthed the words, “I love you, daddy.”

His eyes crinkled in a squint as he grinned at me. Soon he had walked over, wrapped his arms around us, and he said, “I love my girls more than anything.”

It was nice to be home again.

7:56p.m.

We all had
gone roller-skating. Caitlyn wasn’t excited about it, but she was willing to take one for the team. She had taken her laptop, and started working two hours after skating for a while. I couldn’t blame her for taking a little break; I expected her to take a break eventually. She even had a lengthy conversation with my father when we went to Cape’s to eat, which was surprising.

It wasn’t as difficult to introduce Annette to Cape’s as I thought it would be. Cape’s was often my and Kennedy’s hangout spot. We ate there all of the time. I had a lot of good memories with Kennedy at Cape’s. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel comfortable with showing Annette my and Kennedy’s home. It’d be within the next three days, though. I was going to gain the courage this year. I wasn’t going to cower anymore.

Now we were back at home. We had just finished dinner, and we were all pretty beat due to the fairly busy day we had. I was staying in my old bedroom. Annette and Caitlyn had their own rooms; the house was pretty big.

I was finally alone and ready to read Wyatt’s note. I hadn’t read it yet. When we had landed in Tennessee, I was beyond tired. I hadn’t had the energy to take in Wyatt’s words. This morning, I hadn’t been ready to read the note, because I would have had my parents to face directly after. I needed hours to myself before and after reading Wyatt’s note. It was just how I operated.

I walked over to last night’s jeans that had been lying on the floor. I never took the note out of my pocket. I had taken the paper in my hand before sitting on my bed.

I'll give you kisses in the form of words to make up for four days, too, Willow.

K for "kindle" because you did, in fact, throw a flame in my heart.

I for "indwelling" because you are, in fact, a part of my soul.

S for "significant" because you are, in fact, important to me.

S for "serendipity" because I did, in fact, find the series of us to be delightful.

E for "elegance" because you do, in fact, have manners and style. (Just kidding.)

S for "sexy" because you are, in fact, undeniably sexy.

I'll be waiting impatiently, Willow. For four days. You're all I think about.

I folded the note, put it in the front pocket of my duffle, and then I just laid there on my bed as I stared up at the ceiling. I smiled to myself, and I knew at that moment that I had lots of things to tell him in four days.