Chapter Forty Alternate A -- The Light
Les and Uncle Dan were beside me. I cradled Sid's head in my arms. My tears wet his face and mine. So cold, so cold. Then he gasped.
I clutched him to me. I'd been so afraid, so afraid that I'd wished him mortal too soon. But I should have know he wouldn't die. He wasn't like Shackleton. Sid was all light.
I buried my face his neck and sobbed with joy.
He wet lashes fluttered open.
"Is it over?" he asked.
I nodded and kissed his forehead then hugged the stuffing out of him. We were home.
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"Is this another wrinkle?" Glenda said, digging through her vanity. "God, where did I put the Oil of Olay? Could you be a dear Wes and help me find it?"
It was difficult at first. Glenda worrying about laugh lines and crows feet, and Uncle Dan complaining about arthritis in his joints and the crick in his back. I blamed myself, considering that the passing of Old Father Time was part my fault. Sometimes I thought that maybe they did know that I was the cause of their suffering-- that's why they complained so much around me. As I helped Glenda look for her personal fountain of youth, I remembered what Sid said to me just last night:
"Stop beating yourself up for that, they'd never experienced it up to now, so of course they were going to bitch more. It's part of life. It's going to happen to us someday. And beside, you know She wanted it this way."
He was right about Mica. I tried being selfless, but sometimes I just had to revert back to thinking I was the center of the universe.
Glenda had invited us to dinner tonight. I'd noticed a sharp decline in her culinary abilities since "the incident in the garden" (the term that Sid and I now use for that day). It took her much longer to prepare with a poorer result. Still, she cooked a heck of a lot better than me. Sid still had her beat in that department though.
I followed Glenda to the dining room then to the kitchen, helping her by carrying the chicken to the table. She called, "Dinner's on."
As we sat around the table, I had to laugh. Les looked so happy in love. Glenda smiled at him, knowing the reason for the light in his eyes. She didn't care. She liked Smith.
Uncle Dan reached for the mash potatoes then the gravy, grumbling about the lumps in both. The old grandfather clock struck seven times.
It was a good evening.
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I went to work the next morning at the flower shop. Nothing like walking up the steps and smelling the sweet mixture of orchids, daisies and stephanotis. I could hear Mr. Keller whistling as he watered the greenhouse number one out back.
Alan came in late. Didn't even give me shit as he went out to help Mr. Keller finish watering. I could have sworn Alan was whistling "Everything is Beautiful" along with Mr. Keller.
The phone rang.
"Good morning, Keller's Flowers, Wes speaking. How may I help you?"
"Um, I don't know... My boyfriend got up this morning and left for work without waking me. I didn't get a morning kiss and hug. Now I'm thinking maybe he's lost interest in me. You think that might be the case?"
"No. Not at all. In fact your boyfriend told me he didn't want to wake you because you looked so sweet and cuddly all scrunched up hugging that pillow with the soft light of morning kissing your forehead."
"All that flowery talk makes me wonder if he's a florist like you."
"Hm-m, could be. He also told me to tell you that if he would have woke you before he left he would have ended up late for work."
"I see."
"Yes, and-- crap the other lines ringing. Have to go. Bye!"
"Bye."
"Good morning, Keller's Flowers, Wes speaking. How may I help you?"
"Sure can, but I don't think it would be appropriate for phone sex right now. Let's say I pick you up for lunch."
"Sure," I said. We both laughed. "See you at 12:30. Miss you."
"Miss you more."
I walked into the backroom, put on my smock and smiled. God I loved him.
I shoved my hands into the front pocket of my comfy old smock. So what if it made me look gay--
I was.