Time's Forbidden Flower (34 page)

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Authors: Diane Rinella

BOOK: Time's Forbidden Flower
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My thumb slides over a nick in the railing as I ascend the stairs. Christopher put that nick on the banister while bringing up Graham’s crib. This house was practically pristine when we moved in and almost every scratch and ding is a product of our family, thus making defects treasured memories.

“Damn it, God! Why did you take my Christopher?”

Two months after Christopher’s passing I feel human again. It began while experimenting in the bakery. I’ve put Sunshine in charge of management duties so my only responsibility is to have fun. Sunshine never fails to amaze me with her business sense and creativity. In many ways she is oddly an extension of me.

I may not be ready to fly again, but I am definitely ready to take a stroll in the sun and face the blue sky, even if it brings forth tearful memories.

Chapter 56

Readying to embark on a quest for the perfect ensemble for a night out on the town with the girls, the melodic chime of the doorbell shakes me from my nightmarish daydream of trying on clothes. On the way to the door I detour by the bathroom for another look in the mirror.

“Oh, hell yes, I can still wear hot clothes!”

A second chime of the bell forces an end to my delirium, and I head for the door.

Donovan stands on the porch, clutching a bouquet of white roses at his chest. In presenting them, he reveals a black suit with a tie of deep blue swirls that make the dazzling orbs on his face wrap me in an ocean of beauty. Age is blessing him with a distinguished air. His specs of gray at the temples and the few extra pounds gained over the years do little to shame his allure.

“Wow! This is quite the surprise,” I say, beaming while sniffing the roses and motioning him into the house. “Why are you so nervous?”

Flicking his hands out to the sides, his mouth goes slightly agape. “I can no longer get anything past you.”

“Nope! Spill.”

Without pretense, he dives into his mission. “I’m ready, Lily. I’ve been ready for years. When… when things changed I wanted to give you time to heal and hopefully come to me, but I’m tired of waiting.”

From the moment Christopher passed I stopped noticing that other people existed, whether they were my friends, my children, or my soul mate. Three months later, reality is catching up to me, and Donovan's words snap me back to earth. “What about Anna?” I ask, my hands clammy with discomfort. Why am I not throwing myself at him like I want to?

“Conveniently gone,” he says, retrieving a sealed envelope from his jacket pocket. “At least I was able to hide that. She left a month ago. For the last year it was pretty obvious she no longer had any desire to be around me. I promised I would give you this along with her blessing.”

My eyes crawl to the envelope placed in my hand as a thousand ants march up the back of my legs.

“Lily, the night I left for college you said you hoped we would be together in the end. I’ll keep my distance while you recover, but when you’re ready, I promise you'll never regret it.”

Donovan heads for the door, hesitating at the threshold before leaving without looking back. The urge to pursue him is resisted, knowing that in my weakened state it would be a disservice to us both. Although I know our reunion is as near as a call away, I need every inch of the distance growing between us as he drives off.

With apprehension brought on by an unknown source, I sit on the porch to read Anna’s letter.

Lily,

Donovan and I were a joke. We are victims who married for convenience; both thinking that having a family could make us normal.

It didn’t.

After years of being exploited I didn’t trust men, though somehow I knew Donovan would never abuse me. I was right.

My terms were simple. I asked him to marry me with the stipulation that he could return to you whenever opportunity arose as long as any children were provided for. However, he could not force an opportunity and I couldn’t stop one.

I broke the rules; once by leaving notes trying to push you and Christopher together and again by trying to protect him from Lana’s wrath as she died.

Christopher’s passing is my exit cue. Consider this a deathbed confession. I'm killing off who I was in a moment of self-imposed strength. Since you and Donovan can never marry, I won’t bother with the mess of a divorce. Sunshine will know how to reach me, but as far as Donovan is concerned, I’ll no longer be in his way.

Thank you for helping me when I was ill.
Funny thing is, the better I got, the more I realized how ridiculous my marriage was. It's long past time for me to move on, but after all he did for me, I needed to know Donovan would be provided for. Now that destiny has kicked in, we are all free.

You’re poisonous, Lily. For years I’ve watched you weaken your victims. If someone consumes too much of you, or drinks of your tears, they are forever destroyed. Don’t hurt Donovan any more than you already have.

Anna

My attempt to shop for the perfect dress is thwarted. Thanks to Donovan’s visit my brain misfires at every minor ding in the road. Caving to whimsy I toss my credit card onto the sales counter and succumb to an alluring, strapless little black number that I pray doesn’t make me look like a decrepit tart. The frivolity continues as I book a limo filled with a boatload of champagne.

The mission for a carefree night is fiery until I ascend the stairs to my bedroom. Photographic memories line the stairwell and serve as a memorial to my years with Christopher. Frozen in time is a lone cupcake—the one with my engagement ring stuck in the top. Hesitation dominated me before I married Christopher. I was so afraid that I could never give him all he deserved. Despite my fears, we shared a beautiful marriage, perfect in so many ways. I’d give anything to be able to tell him one more time that I love him.

Dispiritedness brings difficulties to my preparation for the big night out. I forgo much of the planned makeup, knowing it will smudge if I tear. As concern for my attire begins nagging, fate kicks in and the limo arrives. When I head out the door with a painted smile, Sunshine sticks her head out the limo’s sunroof and catcalls at me, making me again rethink my dress.

Inside the car, the girls are merciless in their howling complements. Judging by the look on the face of Graham’s wife, Betty, I’m not a harlot. If anyone would accuse me of being tarty it would be her and the stick up her bum.

Once at the club I sheepishly order a Martini. There’s a crazy drink menu here, yet I’ve no desire to experiment. Where the hell is Lilyanna Eccles? She would be all over this menu and order the wackiest thing possible. Instead some washed up old broad invaded me and ordered a standard Martini. I don’t want to shrivel up and die because my husband did. I want to be like Eric, who lived to the ripe old age of ninety-four and never stopped thriving. Or like Grace who passed on at eighty-eight and didn’t try to be a teenager, even though she kept up with them. She was just herself, and she was inspiring.

My eyes go to Antonia, who forces a smirk, which slowly builds into a bold smile. There is a lesson in her eyes. While she was raised by an incredible man, she is the product of something greater—a force that clearly believes Donovan and I should be together. In a silent moment of defiance I raise my glass and drink goodbye to the grieving widow who struggles to face each day. The Martini goes down smoothly and it makes the right of passage feel destined. Determined to spice up my life I order a Thai Chili Splash. I have little clue what’s in it, but Antonia thinks they’re divine.

I’m ready for the next phase. Something just fired my jet engines, and I won’t shut them down. As the waitress brings my drink, Antonia gives me a wicked little smile that rivals that of her birthfather. Taking that first sip, I burst out with my new life.

Chapter 57

A sonic boom set on repeat wakes me from slumber. I stumble to the window, and the source of the clamor remains evasive. Did I leave the TV on downstairs? I don’t even remember getting home. How the hell did I make it up the stairs without falling onto my face and snapping my neck? A quick survey of the house brings me a big, fat goose egg of nothing, yet the intensity of the pounding increases.
 

Ah crap! I’m hungover.

I am grateful for the little man tap dancing on my brain. He exists not because I drank to forget, but because I drank to remember. Last night I vowed to bring myself back into the land of the living, and I praise every dehydrating taste of life I had.

Plopping myself down on the sofa in the family room, I dare to let myself form thoughts about my future. Donovan's voice greets me with a hopeful tone. “You’re up bright and early considering how much you tied one on last night. I got a full report a little while ago from Antonia.”
 

I look to the phone in my hand as if it’s diseased, not remembering picking it up, let alone possessing the intention of calling Donovan.

“I’m moving,” I state.

What? Who said that?

You did, Lily—loudly and clearly. You’re moving.

“What? Where? Why?” Donovan’s voice adds to my stew of emotions. “Lily, I’m sorry if I said something out of line yesterday.”

“Donovan, we can’t happen here,” I spit out with urgency. “I’m buying us tickets for a long cruise to some faraway place so we can decide what to do next. How soon can you be ready?”

“Lily, I’ve been ready for decades.”

One week after I nearly place myself into an alcohol induced coma, Donovan and I are in Rome, ready to embark on a twelve day Mediterranean Cruise. Once my foot hits the ship’s deck, I’m Marco Polo reincarnated, ready to venture into a new world. In the middle of a crowd I stop Donovan to reunite our lips. “It’s about time I could do that.” Anxious to continue, we race to our cabin.

Donovan motions for me to wait outside our cabin door. After bringing our bags inside he swoops me over the threshold and onto the bed. Our kiss has the fluidity of Crème Anglaise as he slowly glides me downward. When his lips retract, his gaze pours his soul into mine in a moment of gentle surrender to the knowledge that there will never be an escape from the love that engulfs us. Emotions flood, causing a furry of passion to race over me. Like a NASCAR pit crew I have his shirt on the floor before unfastening his belt so expeditiously the act almost feels violent.

Donovan touches the buttons on my blouse at a luxurious pace, savoring our passion. I insist on helping, nearly slapping his hands out of the way so I can rip off my skirt. These little necessities are but a time-sinking barrier to his embrace. Suddenly Donovan pulls back, clasps his eyes onto mine, and captures my hands with a firm grip, bringing my engine to a skidding halt.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “I’ve waited over thirty years to be with you again, and I plan to savor each moment. Lily, you are just as lovely as the day I first noticed you as the breath taking woman you are. I’ve never told you about that day.
 

“That summer there were so many things we wanted to do together. Then Mom and Dad sent us both off to camps. The day you left I felt hollow, like my heart had a hole in it. When Dad brought you home my heart skipped all over the place. Then I left for football camp and was miserable. It freaked me out how much I missed you.
 

“When I returned home you had this amazing chocolate cake waiting, and we gabbed the night away on the sofa, just you, me, two forks, and that cake. I knew then that I was in deep for a girl I should never have anything but the most fraternal of thoughts for, but you were lovely and had a smile that launched me into orbit. That is exactly the girl who lies in my arms now, and I need to show her something.”

Pulling my back long locks, he nuzzles into my neck. “For decades I’ve longed to kiss this spot again.” He presses his lips under my ear, making me throw my head back with a glorious sigh, “and that’s why.”

His lips linger down until they grace my upper arm, sending a universe of stars twinkling through me. “You used to have a black, satin blouse, and the edge of the sleeve came right here. I would play with it, subtly moving my finger up a little higher to touch more of you even though you were off limits. This was as high as I could go.”

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