Bloom (10 page)

The next morning I woke up to my phone beeping and a voicemail from Natalie.

Hey, Sarah. Could you come to Vasili’s house today for lunch? It’s really important. I’ve texted his address so you can GPS it. He lives in the city. East side by Shippen and Orange. Thanks.

I gulped. Did I have other plans? Could I make other plans? Could I pretend I never got the voicemail?

“Hello?” a voice came from the phone. “Sarah?”

Oh, no. I must’ve called her back without realizing it.

I hung up.

And felt highly mature and sophisticated. Wow. What on earth?

She called back. I answered.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “What do you guys need?”

“Just need to talk about a few things. What time can you be here?”

“Noon?”

“Great. See ya then.”

The outside of his house
was beautiful. A nice, old his
toric city home with shutters. My favorite. Only his shutters were chipped and falling off. Kind of ruined the appeal, yet made it more charming at the same time.

I rang the doorbell and watched my breath move through the freezing cold air. Natalie opened and nearly toppled me over.

“Thank you.” She squealed. “Thank you so much.”

“What did I do?” I entered the foyer.

“Vasili has been analyzing the death out of my request to move to LA. He said he talked to you and whatever you said inspired him to sacrifice his own desires and move with me.” She leaned toward me and whispered, “Can’t thank you enough. I have a surprise, but I can’t say yet. Do you want to eat here tonight? I’m begging Vasili to let me cook tonight. I can’t handle one more Greek meal. Another lemony potato and spana ... spanacore ... spana—”

“Spanakopita?”

“Right. That wretched stuff. Not to mention the—”

“Hey, look who’s here.” Vasili motioned for us to come into the living room. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Humble all right,” Natalie said.

“Actually.” I eyed the hallway, stairwell, and quickly glanced over the dining room and living room. “I think it’s pretty amazing. How’d you afford something like this?”

Vasili laughed. “My dad owned a pizza shop and this is where I grew up. Kyriakos and I live here now. Mom couldn’t stand living here once Dad died.”

I looked around, taking it all in. Something so romantic about an old house. Well-lived. Well-loved. I entered the living room and stopped in my tracks. Above the mantel of the gorgeous fireplace a familiar photograph stretched across the wall. The original was a quarter of that size.

“You like that old thing?” Natalie said, her shoulder against mine. “Vasili kept looking at that every time we passed this dinky gallery on Queen Street. So on his last birthday I bought the depressing thing and had it blown up for him. Was one of the best gifts he’s ever gotten. So he said. Right, babe?”

He ran his fingers along the petals. It took me five hours to set that picture up to be what I envisioned. I captured it perfectly.

“It doesn’t look depressing to me,” he said. “I think it symbolizes hope. I love the idea of a flower blooming from a crack in a graffiti-covered city wall. I think it’s awesome. Caught my eye immediately.”

“And he still hasn’t pulled the hook out of his eye.” Natalie sighed. “He’s always in here staring at the thing like it speaks to him or something. What do you think, Sarah?”

“I ... I ... It’s nice, I guess.”

I hoped they kept the original. One day I’d ask for it. Not today though.

“Anyway,” Natalie said. “We brought you over because we have a special question for you.” She squeezed my arms. I didn’t want to show her that it hurt, but it was getting hard not to.

“Let the girl go,” Vasili said. “You’re probably hurting her.”

“Oh!” She jerked back, horrified. “Are you okay?”

Vasili walked away laughing.

“I’m okay.” I hid my own laughter. “Just a little sensitive still.”

“Just out of curiosity, have you considered plastic surgery?”

I looked at my feet. Should’ve expected the question from Ms. Cosmetologist.

“There’s no shame in it, you know. Heck, I’ve even considered getting a few things done myself.”

“The only surgeries I’ll be having are skin grafts. I only wanted breasts to nurse a child and implants can’t do that.”

“But what about—”

“Girls, are you coming?” Vasili called from the dining room.

I hoped he didn’t hear our conversation.

I sat own at the table. Vasili and Natalie sat down next to each other. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed her cheek. She wiped her cheek and fixed her hair, then scooted an away inch from him. I guess she didn’t want her hair to get messed up and her makeup to smudge. Poor Vasili settled into his chair and stopped trying. I used to be that girl. The one who worried about her hair more than her boyfriend. Always trying to look good and checking my reflection in buildings and even the metal slats that held elevator buttons. Anything reflective. Now I spent the last few months avoiding such things at all costs. Only to find myself neutral. No longer obsessed with looking at myself or avoiding myself. Just trying to work on being myself.

“So, we want to ask you to be our wedding photographer.” Natalie set a book on the table. “I know it’s a big job, but it’s not until April. That gives you a few more months to prepare for it.”

I glanced back to my photo in the living room. The one she didn’t care for. “But you’ve never seen my work.”

“I saw a few things at Ella’s house for your party. That last wedding you did before your ... um, well, that last one you did was gorgeous.”

“You can talk about the fire. We all know it happened. No sense in treating it like it’s the plague. In fact, it’s changed me. I am better because of it.”

“Really? That’s a relief because I’ve been dying to ask you. Vasili was burned by water, which I’m sure is different from fire. How did it feel when your skin was melting off? Was it painful or did it shock you so mu—”

Vasili stood. “Enough, Natalie.”

“What?” She smiled. “Don’t be so serious.”

“It hurt,” I said. “Thank you for being so compassionate. I’ll think about doing the wedding photography.” I stood. “For now I need to get going. I want to stop by and see Anastasia before it gets too late.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Natalie said. “The girl doesn’t need everyone sobbing at her bedside every second of the day. She needs to feel as normal as possible. We need to pretend that everything is okay.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Vasili said, ignoring Natalie’s comment.

“It’s not like she’s even awake most of the time,” Natalie said.

“Exactly.” Vasili walked me to the door as Natalie trailed behind. “You may think the actions that mean the most are the ones we get credit for, but I happen to believe they mean more when people aren’t aware.”

“Huh?” Natalie said.

I tried not to laugh as I walked out the door. When I got into my car I turned the heat on and wondered how many things I did while no one was watching. True altruistic acts of kindness birthed from love for others instead of love for praise. Did anyone fit that ideal?

Anastasia.

She did.

For the last few months she had been planning surprises for her family and friends to unveil after she died. It must’ve been love, because she wouldn’t be around to hear the praises.

I longed for the joy and simplicity of a child. And yet, how does an adult with a history of pain, a present of bills, and a future of unknowns find that child-likeness again?

No one answered the front door
, so I let myself in. Sophia gave me an extra key for times like those. I peered into Anastasia’s bedroom. Yanni was in bed with her. His huge body all cramped on the edge of the frilly little girl’s bed.

No sign of Sophia and Laura.

I sat on the couch and texted Sophia.

She responded five minutes later.
Hey, I’ll be back in a few
.

Ten minutes later she came in the door carrying a bunch of huge bags. I helped her carry a few and noticed the fresh drops on her lashes. We set the bags on the living room floor and she collapsed beside them, sobbing. I knelt beside her and waited until she calmed down, then asked what happened.

“Yanni won’t help me plan her funeral,” she said. “He’s in denial, so Anastasia has been asking me to do all of these little things to plan for it. She has quite a few requests for such a young person. I just want to be beside her, but at the same time I want to get everything prepared exactly as she wants.” She sniffed. “My baby is dying and I’ve tried everything. There’s nothing I can do. We had to increase her morphine yesterday and it took a little bit to kick in. I can’t explain the torture I feel watching my little girl suffer. I keep asking God to take me instead.”

I waited to make sure she was finished, then said, “Let me handle some of those things for you. I have nothing better to do. Just let me know what and when.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“She’s been sleeping a lot more lately, but they told us to watch for other symptoms to show that she might be close. So far nothing has happened. Laura said her pee may turn orange or brown as her liver fails, but we haven’t seen that yet either. Thankfully Christmas is only a few days away. Have you and Vasili practiced lines? I think everyone else is good to go.”

“We’ll be okay. Poor Vasili is nervous.” I tried to smile. “Yesterday he sent me a text asking why the movie was different from the script we had. I told him we condensed it to make sure she could stay awake for it all. He said it was his seventh time watching the movie.”

She smiled. “He’s been great. Those two have always been so close.”

“I noticed. How’d that come about?

“He is her godparent. There’s always a special bond there, but they’d be close anyway. Kindred spirits.”

The front door opened.

“And there he is now,” I said. A fluttery sensation began in my stomach.

“Sarah, glad you’re still here.” He sat on the couch across from Sophia and me. “I’m sorry for what happened with Natalie. She’s had a rough week.”

“Isn’t that every week?” Sophia said.

He looked at her blankly.

“Not trying to be mean,” she said. “But maybe you should stop trying to be so nice.”

“You can’t be too nice, Sophia.” He leaned back into the chair. “Right, Sarah?”

“Umm....” I said. “In what sense?”

“Sarah inspired me the other day. To stop trying to hitch a ride on a different plane and instead to buy a ticket with Natalie, to take her plane.” He tapped the chair and waited for us to respond. “Isn’t that what I should do?”

Sophia looked him right in the eyes. “Are you happy?”

He switched positions in his chair.

“Yes? No?”

He stood. “Since when does it have to do with my happiness? That girl in there has shown me the complete opposite. You should see the gift she made me put together for her funeral. How can I concern myself with my own happiness when she has taught me to do the complete opposite?”

Sophia shook her head and touched my knee. “What do you think, Sarah?”

“Oh, no. Not me. I don’t ha—”

“No. Let’s hear it. What do you think? Should he marry someone who will make him miserable?”

“I don’t know.”

“What would you do?”

“Well, if I knew I was going to be miserable I wouldn’t marry that person because I wouldn’t really be able to love him fully. Then we’d both be miserable.”

“I’m not going to be miserable,” he said.

Sophia stood and walked toward Anastasia’s room. “Suit yourself.”

Him and I stared at each other, expressionless, for what seemed like seventy years. I don’t know about him, but I barely realized he was there. He became the subject my eyes rested on as I mulled over my own decisions.

When I realized we had been spaced out and staring at each other for so long, I laughed. Then he laughed. Then I laughed harder. Before we knew it we were both laughing so hard we were holding our stomachs. It didn’t make sense and it didn’t need to. We proved, in that instant, that beauty didn’t need to wait until after the rain passed. It could flourish amidst the pelting droplets too, if only we stopped once in a while, ditched our umbrellas, and let the water drench our souls.

Anastasia illuminated the room like the sun she’d soon leave behind. Everyone gathered around in fold-up chairs as she rested her tiny body on the couch, tucked beneath a teal and white striped blanket. Vasili and I stood in front of everyone as Sophia introduced us and the purpose behind our play. Behind us, the patio doors revealed flurries glimmering in the moonlight as they landed on the already white landscape.

A white Christmas.

Her last.

She knew it and yet her face glowed like it was her first.
For you, sweet one
, I said inside.

And so we began.

At the end of the
real story of “It’s a Wonderful Life,”
the town comes together and gifts George with money to pay his debt. That wasn’t the best gift though. The best was the gift of friendship and the idea that his one life, albeit unknowingly, touched many others with a rippling effect. Like Clarence writes on a card at the end, “No man is a failure who has friends.”

So, at the end, we all stood there doting over the fake money sprawled across the floor, then we turned toward Anastasia who was delighted beyond compare.

“My dear, dear Anastasia,” Vasili said. “I remember holding your little baby self during your baptism. I was only twenty two years old and feared being your godfather. I wondered if I had what it takes to be there for you in that way, but you made it so easy. We always joked that you came into the world smiling. And look at you know.” His voice quivered as a tear fell from her eye. “You’re still smiling. You’ve taught me more than I could’ve ever taught you. Thank you.”

He sat beside her, kissed her forehead, and held her hand as one person after another expressed their gratitude for the stamp she inked into their lives.

Finally, it was my turn, with only Yanni and Sophia left. I knit my hands together and thumbed my compression garments, then focused on Anastasia.

“Anastasia, you and I have a lot in common, which is probably why Vasili wanted us to meet. We both suffered from terrible burns and have scars in the same places. We both endured mean stares and too many nights in hospitals. We both know the feeling of hearing the doctor say, ‘I’m sorry, but the tumor is cancerous.’ We both have a love for life and people. And people who know us would say we are filled with joy. But”—I swallowed hard—“there’s one thing we don’t have in common. I’ve smiled and made decisions not out of true love for life and people, but out of fear of what they might think of me if I didn’t do what was expected of me. I wanted to die when I woke from a coma, but you’ve shown me how selfish that is. You’ve shown me so many reasons to live.”

I looked down as everyone clapped and dabbed their eyes with tissues, then I moved aside, next to the Christmas tree, as Yanni and Sophia took center stage, gripping each other’s hands so hard their knuckles turned pale.

“My sweet baby.” Sophia tried to hold it together, but her entire body shook like a leaf on the verge of a storm. “I had four miscarriages before you and the doctor told me I’d never be able to carry a child to full term, but Father Thomas told me not to worry about it, that God had plans for the child we’d bring into the world. Eleven months later you were born at forty-two weeks. I remember relishing that time with you inside of me. It was just me and you. Your little feet in my ribs all night. Your life has brought joy to so many others, in such a short time. And now it’s coming to an end, but the colors you’ve brought to our lives will never fade. Still, I can’t help but feel like I did long ago, selfishly wanting to keep you in my womb so I could enjoy you. I don’t want to say goodbye...” She trailed off as Yanni held her in his arms and closed his eyes.

Then, he began, “I’m not good with words, darling. I don’t know how to say what I feel. You’re my little girl. You’ve made my life sparkle and glitter, literally. Everyone keeps telling me to take a shower. Get out for a little bit. I can’t. I can’t leave your side. You are the sunshine in my life. You’ll always be my little girl.”

Anastasia wiped her glossy cheeks as her parents wrapped her in their arms.

Vasili and I escorted everyone except Eleni and Kyriakos to the door, then Eleni and I cleaned the house as everyone else helped Anastasia back to her room. An hour later, Vasili emerged. “You guys can go in if you want. She’s sleeping now.”

Eleni did. I didn’t wanted to intrude.

Vasili stood by the patio doors and pressed his palm against the glass. He stood there a while. Not saying a word.

“Where’s Natalie?” I said.

“In LA.”

“For Christmas?”

“She had a winter beauty show she was invited to. Really good opportunity for her.”

“But wh—”

“If we bundle you up really well, could you handle an adventure?”

I laughed. “What?”

“You. Me. Snow. Can you handle it or not?”

“I ... uh ... I gue—”

“Great. Be right back.”