CHAPTER 16 BLUE ORCHID
BLUE ORCHID
Phoenix
Phoenix’s phone buzzed with a familiar name.
“Hi, Tish.”
“So, I have news and the news is I’m engaged,” Tish said, giggling.
“Congratulations, Tom’s the lucky guy, right?” Phoenix looked down at the form that would no longer be anyone’s lucky guy.
“After nearly two years, he better be. We’ve a date set for the first week of April. It’s been hell securing a venue. Anything less than a year out is a crapshoot. You know weddings in the city. Wait—no you don’t! Forever the bachelor who breaks women’s hearts, right?”
“Forever’s a long time, but you’re right, I’ve been fairly committed to bachelorhood.” Even more so now. No left-hand finger to even wear a ring.
“Tell me the gossip. How’s Caleb? Veronica? I want details. I’ve not seen you since your dad’s funeral. Jesus, has it been a year already?”
“Caleb’s surly as ever. My mom is hanging in there, and I’m four weeks into a multi-month staycation in rehab,” he said, thinking of the two family members looking as ravaged as he was.
“Rehab? For months?”
He didn’t particularly want to answer the concern ascending in her voice, so he kept to the barest details. He swallowed. “I fell onto a subway line.”
“Holy shit. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” He thought for a moment. “What’s left of me, anyway.”
“What do you mean, what’s left of you?”
Gripped by sadness, he pictured their jaunts to Vegas, Joshua Tree and the wine country. Another goodbye to the person he was.
“Damned train took a leg and my hand.”
In the silence that followed, Phoenix pictured her hyperventilating.
“Phoenix, I’m so sorry. Your poor mother. First your father and now this. What can I do? Should I send a fruit basket?” she asked, referencing an inside joke the couple had years ago as to the protocols of whether to send a fruit basket or flowers.
If only there was something anyone could do.
Tish came by that afternoon, Car and Driver magazine in one hand and a bouquet of Vanda orchids and blue sea holly in the other.
“I figured you won’t be driving anytime soon, but it might help with inspiration,” Tish said as she her eyes skidded from Phoenix’s bandaged arm to his injured leg hanging down from the seat of the wheelchair.
“This is me looking better,” he promised, wanting to wipe the look of horror from her face and his memory.
She mechanically took the dozen steps from the room’s doorway towards him. “Maybe I should just put these down.” She placed the bouquet and magazine on his bedside table.
Orchids, really? Like I need a reminder.
He was relieved that at least she figured out not to give him anything, which would leave him with no hand for wheeling the chair.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, perched in the blue vinyl seat, finally eye level with him.
“From the expression on your face, not as bad as I must look,” he replied, feeling as pained as she appeared.
“To the contrary,” she denied. “You look . . . fit.”
He knew what her expression meant. No sane woman would ever look at him the same again. Eligible bachelor no more. Catch no more. Player no more. Dreams, vanished. He swallowed past the ache crushing his chest.
“Thanks,” he said, then turned the conversation to her. “So, how’s Tom?”
“He’s good. I think he’s excited.” She pulled up photos from her smartphone, showing pictures from their engagement party, then shared their choice of venues and details about her wedding dress.
There was no getting around it. While his life had taken a dive from which there was no recovery, others’ lives would progress.
“I’m happy for you, Tish.”
“Thanks. But I mean, it doesn’t seem so important now, with everything you’re going through.”
“Don’t be silly. Life goes on. That’s the one thing I’ve learned. Hell, they even have a phrase for it—my ‘new normal.’ And next year in the spring, you’ll walk down the aisle and you and Tom will have a new normal.”
Spouting other people’s crap didn’t sound any better coming from him.
“In any event, I hate this is happening. Is there anything you need?”
“Nothing you can offer,” he replied, squeezing his eyes as the corners of her mouth headed south.
“I’ll tell you what. When you’re out of here, we’ll do something fun.”
Fun? The concept sounded foreign.