The Tulips In The Garden

Every spring there comes a time when the flowers of my garden bloom. They adorn the green, grassy, landscape with a rainbow of beauty in all shapes and sizes. The yellow tulips are my favorite. I care for them for months on end, washing their delicate petals, and cleaning their fragile stems. Their beauty can only be obtained one day of every year. When it is time for me to sit and have a spot of tea with an old friend. Yellow was her favorite color and the warm soil reminds me of her once beating heart when it slips through my fingers. What a tragic day it was when she left this earth, a day that I nor this garden will ever forget. In the early morning, I watch as the petals expand, revealing a gorgeous bright yellow center. Tears stream down my face as I envision the short yellow dress she loved to twirl in. The same dress she’d be wearing when I see my dearest friend with a cup of her favorite jasmine green tea, four cubes of sugar. 

Before the sun sets and the flowers lose their light initiating a year-long slumber, I must prepare the table for our reunion. Within the shed of gardening tools, there is a medium wooden round table with two chairs connected to pink plump cushions. I always place them in the center of the garden with the perfect view of my tulips. Under my bed in a blue antique box, I take out a white sheet with yellow swirls. I remember when she designed the fabric for her birthday. I carefully drape the silk sheet over the smooth round table and place the chairs on opposite ends. The kettle on the stove begins to whistle, so I head inside to make the tea. There are two tea packets I keep hidden away in the cupboard so that I am always ready for her arrival. I pour the hot steaming water into a white pot engraved with her name in yellow calligraphy writing, Annabelle. The time is drawing near so I assemble the pot and cups on a silver tray and take it to the garden where my dear friend shall be waiting. 

Just as I reach the entrance of the garden, my eyes rise to see a young woman sitting in the chair patiently waiting for her tea. Her bright yellow dress flutters in the warm breeze and the air fills with her citrus perfume. Her long strawberry blonde hair lays against her lower back with half of it tied in a big white bow. My heart rate increases with every step towards her. My all-white dress and yellow bow tied in my jet black hair complemented her well which I always tried to do. I placed the tray in the middle of the table, turning to finally meet her soft green eyes. They always sparkled far brighter than my dark brown pupils ever could. Her face lights up with a smile when she sees me and she stands to give me a warm embrace. As my arms wrap around her tiny waste it feels as though she isn’t gone. That at this moment my dearest friend is still here, still alive. We both take our seats and immediately begin drinking the tea that has now reached the perfect temperature. I brought some of her favorite biscuits to complete the scene. I pull them from under the table to surprise her and she giggles, taking the first one. 

There are so many things I want to say but all I can muster up is, “Oh how I have missed you.”

“Believe me, I have missed a lot of things on this beautiful planet, including your need to always surprise me,” -she motioned to the biscuits I brought- “I love the garden! I remember when all you had growing was a repotted Jade Plant.”

“Yes, it has definitely come a long way, I just wish we could have planted more together,” It felt good to hear her sweet voice after so long. 

“Well, I mean, technically we grow something together every year,” -she motioned towards the tulips- “Tell me, how long have you had those tulips there for me?”

I loved everything about those tulips except discussing them, “You know how long they have been there, 4 years, since the day you left.” I wish that sometimes we could just admire them without words. 

Her smile never dropped, “Oh yea I remember, sorry, I guess the afterlife makes you a little wonky in the head. I often have trouble remembering things as time passes on,” -Her eyes look to a wrinkle in the table as she uses her hands to smooth it out- “How’s Jackson been lately?” I knew that this would happen. It breaks my heart to know that in our small time together, she is thinking of someone else, not her best friend. I feel my smile drop a little but quickly raise it so she won’t see that I am hurt. 

“Jackson is doing alright, he stops by from time to time to see the tulips, you know he actually is engaged now to some woman he met at the coffee shop we all used to hang out at,” I knew these words would sting but I am hurting too. Her eyes produce a glossy tint in the sun and I could tell her soul is in pain, “Are you at peace? You know, are you able to rest?”

She raises her head to look at me, a tear slides down her rosy cheeks as they perk back up into a smile, “What does it mean to be in peace? Do I have unfinished business? No. Is there something holding me back here? No, yet there is still something that keeps my spirit from moving on. I know that there shouldn’t be because everyone else who’s life I was apart of has moved on. 

The part of me that keeps my spirit from rest is the part still in pain. How can I be at peace when I hear the man I fell in love with has fallen for another? When the last day I remember in life was when I looked into his beautiful sparkling blue eyes and him say to me ‘I love you too’ and we share the most passionate kiss lovers can imagine -tears streamed down her still joyful expression and I know not how to console her- I come here every year in hopes that maybe this will all be a nightmare. That I will drink this tea and my life will go on. That I will leave this table to spend the rest of my life with him but instead I return to darkness, slowly forgotten. 

“But, I am here. I could never forget you,” once again my care for her is being overlooked by her fascination with Jack. Just as a girl’s night out gets trampled on by the call of a man. 

She wipes away her tears and gazes at the nearby tulips, “Tell me, is this tea session we have once a year truly a pleasant visit from a best friend or a curse as a result of your inability to let go, to let me go?”

Her accusation struck like a dagger to my heart, “Of course this is a pleasant visit. I make sure the scenery and setting are perfect every spring for this very moment. You are the one who came to me first, asking me to give you that one spot of sunshine in the year. To suggest that I am the one refusing to let go is delusional!” I hated raising my voice at her especially in the little time we have with each other. 

“Have you ever considered why I came here in the first place?” the sun began to set and as its final rays vanished, so did she. I finally allowed the tears I have been fighting back to fall down my face. This continues to be the most painful day of the year. I wish things were different and I could still have hope that the next time will be better but my heart cannot take anymore. I rise from the table and walk to see the tulips closed once again. In them, all I see is the hate she buried for me. The hate that has come out in small doses for the last four years. The lethal poison, killing small pieces of my heart with every sip. The light is gone, clouds swoop in, and small droplets of rain ruin my yellow bow and white dress. Mascara streaming down my face, I let out a cry, feeling the cold droplets hit my throat. I look down at those beautiful tulips and begin ripping them out of the soil. The stems hit the ground and I sink my hands into the wet grave. As I pull them out, a small golden chain has caught the tip of my cold finger. I brush the dirt off the engraved emblem, ‘I love you more than life - Marissa’. The necklace falls between my fingers and I head to the shed. My hands find a box of matches, which I return to the table. I pile the damaged tulips on the white sheet and drop a lighted match over the debris. Everything goes up in flames and my body falls to the floor. I curl up in the damp grass, listening to the crackling of the fire. 

All she had to do was love me…