Stay

The yellow roses and wildflowers swayed in the gentle early morning breeze. The garden had never looked more beautiful, thanks to my amazing, gorgeous husband, and all I wanted was to close my eyes and leave the world behind. I hadn’t had this much time to myself since graduation, the first time it happened. I’m here again, and I just want everything-the fear, anger, regret-to stop.

Here you are.” The drag of Miguel’s lips washed a small wave of pleasure over me.

"How long have you been out here?”

“Since about 4:30.” 

He wrapped me in his arms. “Come back with me.” 

“I really should get back to it, babe. There’s so much still to do.” I kissed Miguel’s forehead, as he stroked my shoulders and back. I was thirty seconds away from going with his suggestion.

"I’ll help you. But, do you really want to do this?”

“Sell the house?”

“Andrea wanted you and Carly to have it, to pass on, Mary. And you love being here.” Miguel kissed me again, and I was just about done.

“I know.”

“Come on then, we’ll talk about it after.”

“OK.”

The linen sheets were soft, but nothing felt more tender than my husband’s fingertips dancing across my body. Even now, when I didn’t want to feel anything, I could never get enough of his caress. The very first time Miguel touched me, he was taking care of my scraped calf, but his touch healed something in me that I didn’t know was broken. The way he cared for our mother until we were engaged captured my heart, even when I tried to ignore how I felt.

Now, my reality was the heat of his smooth, citrusy skin, the minty sweetness of his mouth moving against mine and the thump of his heart beating against mine. 

“Are you OK?” He pulled back and kissed my cheek again.

“Yeah.” 

 “Why are you crying, Mary?”

I raised my hand and wiped my face. “I don’t know.”

 He rolled off and looked into my eyes. “I’m here for you, always.”

 Something tore away inside me, and sobs wracked my body. “I can’t, I just can’t… it’s my fault.”

“Mary, stop saying that. If it’s your fault, then it’s mine, too. It was my idea to hire her, and Andrea liked Melinda.”

I wiggled out of his arms and rolled to the edge of the bed. Blood rushed in my ears, and I couldn’t claw back the tightness in my chest. 

 Miguel draped his arms around me and whispered my name. “Mary, breathe with me.”

I’d watched him do this with Mom, toward the end when she was frightened and unable to rest. I mirrored Miguel until my heart slowed and the pressure released its hold on me.

“You need to go and get ready, I’ll be OK.” 

Miguel sighed and shook his head. “You say that everyday, and I come home and find you when you haven’t-”

“I promise I’ll eat today, and I’ll take them.” I smiled as I lied to my husband again.

I settled under the covers after I heard the shower running. If I could get through the next few minutes, I would go through with it today. I opened the bedside drawer where I’d hid the letters earlier before I’d gone to Mom’s garden. The bathroom door cracked open, steam mixed with the scent of his citrus basil body wash wafted over me. I slid the envelopes further into the drawer before I laid back on my pillow, and pretended to sleep while he put the pill case on the table.

“I brewed some tea earlier, and there’s some fruit I diced in a container in the fridge.” Miguel brushed the hair off my forehead. 

“I appreciate everything you do for me so much. You’ve made my life so much better.” I caressed his hand, the ring gleaming against his coppery skin.

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained calm. “Mary, I’ll check in with you later.” I turned over when I felt him lift off the bed. 

It would be hard for him at first, but he had Max, and he would help his father, if he needed it. Carly would get over her anger at some point. We’ve never been best friends, but we became closer after Mom’s diagnosis. 

But I couldn’t live for anyone else any longer. I wasn’t in denial anymore, I wasn’t angry, even though I wasn’t there when Mom needed me. And I didn’t want to feel this way a day longer. 

I opened the medicine cabinet and found what I needed quickly. I didn’t avoid the mirror this time, taking in the bags under my eyes, the lines bracketing my lips, the sharp relief of my cheekbones. What he saw and whatever he loved about me, I could never understand. 

I swallowed the pills and crawled back into my spot. A memory of Mom and Dad with Carly at my 7th birthday played in my mind-Dad lit the candles while Mom scooped the melting mint chocolate chip, and I stuck my finger in the icing, a buttercream that was the most delicious, sugary thing I’d ever tasted. It was just us, and we stayed at the playground until dark. 

Then, Miguel’s body came back to me, sweet and warm and tender, the best thing I ever had, ever more fleeting than the happiness I’d had with my family all those years ago. It was OK, it was OK, it was enough…

Then I floated, and light was everywhere, peaceful and endless. Something propelled me closer to the surface, and I was transformed, burdenless and powerful. I felt more than I saw a face, and a hand beckoned me to follow. Then, something thrusted me back, hurtling me down, faster and faster. I was shaking, and I couldn’t stop. 

“Mary, Mary, wake up, what did you do?” Carly screamed.

I woke up alone. The beep and hum of the machines monitoring the vital signs of the life I no longer wanted echoed through the room. My throat burned, and my heavy head throbbed. 

The door opened. Miguel’s beautiful face was red and puffy, and my chest tightened. The image of him there brought me back to that sunny afternoon, not so long ago, when I knocked on my mother’s door and he opened it. At that moment, I fell in love with him all over again.

I could only manage a whisper. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry you want to hurt yourself so much more, Mary.” I’d never seen him cry, The brilliant light played across his features as he crossed the room to sit beside me.

“Do you love me?”

I closed my eyes, which did nothing to assuage my pain.

“Mary, please look at me.”

So I did.

“I know you love me, and that’s not the problem. Just tell me you’ll try.”

“Try what?”

“I need you to figure out why you want this, to leave this world so badly.” He brushed my cheek, and I couldn’t hold back the sob shuddering through me. 

“Thank you for being here, despite everything.” I looked out the window again.

Miguel scoffed. “Mary, I’m not your caregiver, or your mother’s. I’m your husband! Where else would I be?”

I shrugged, because I really hadn’t expected him to come.

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

A tear slid down his cheek, and I used my thumb to wipe it away.

Miguel held my hand. “You still don’t believe it, do you?”

“I’m a mess, I’m too old for you, I don’t understand why you chose me.”

“For all the reasons I told you that night, that 4th of July, when you finally let me kiss you.”

“You could do so much better.” 

“There’s no one better than you for me, Mary! You just need to believe that, and until you do, I don’t know how to get through to you.” Miguel’s voice broke, and we held each other for the longest time.

When he left, I fell into a dreamless sleep, only to awaken to a setting sun, and a social worker’s questions to assess my needs. 

A few days later, after consultations and paperwork, I was discharged. I would use FMLA and return to work in the Fall and see a therapist twice a week for cognitive behavioral therapy. I really didn’t want to talk about anything, but I no longer had a choice. 

Miguel agreed that I stay at Mom’s for the first few weeks, with Carly to keep an eye and to help sort out what we would do next with our mother’s affairs. One of the first things Sarah, my therapist suggested was action and involvement, so despite my diagnosis, she felt focusing on smaller tasks would help. 

I spent those next few months tending to my mother’s garden, journal writing, and reading for the courses I would teach in the fall. It was a beautiful Summer, the first without our mother, and I found myself walking the floor a few nights, a cup of mint tea in hand.

On the 4th, Carly packed a picnic of salads, bread and wine and suggested a visit to the playground.

“It might be crowded up there, kids running around.” I slid a container of sugar cookies I baked into the basket.

“So? You need a change of scenery, Mar.” 

 The day was sunny, hot, and humid, no different from those days we spent here years ago. I was pleasantly surprised about the condition of the playground. Patchy grass had been replaced by trimmed dark emerald grass, and a soft, colorful structure stood instead of the rusted swing set. A few families were scattered throughout, the park decorated with an assortment of blankets and strollers.

“When did all this happen?”

Carly shrugged. “It’s these young families moving in here, they finally decided to upgrade our old spot.”

After we unloaded my car and settled under a tree, I watched a mother and her two young daughters at a picnic table. They were huddled around a cake with candles, and the younger girl wore a gold tiara and a white sundress. Carly handed me a fork and looked in the direction of the family.

“I wonder what she wished for.”

“Maybe a pony, or a unicorn?” 

“Mar? What are you thinking?”

I smiled through the tears dripping onto my t-shirt. Carly handed me a tissue. 

“Let’s eat. I’m starving.”