1978
The beach was beautiful.
The ocean was so blue, and the hotel had soft white sheets and a balcony view that looked like a postcard. Scott kept saying how perfect everything was, how this was the beginning of the rest of our lives.
How much he loved me.
I know he’s right. I should have been having the time of my life, it was my honeymoon!
But the entire time, all I could think was, Lily would have loved it.
She would have complained about the sand in her shoes and made fun of me for being scared of the jellyfish and dared me to skinny dip in the ocean with her after dark.
I would have acted put out by such a request, but I would have done it for another chance to see her smile.
I live for her happiness being directed at me.
It’s only been a week, but I’ve missed her so terribly that I physically ache from it.
“How was your honeymoon, dear?” my mother asks when Scott and I return, but it’s performative. It always is.
“It was nice,” I reply, because that’s what I’m expected to say. It was a perfectly lovely time. Scott did very well planning the trip. It’s not his fault that he isn’t Lily.
I wonder how long it’s been since she’s been to the beach. Perhaps we could plan a girls’ trip before the baby is born. Maybe I could even convince Lily to borrow the green bikini in my closet.
It would look wonderful on her.
My father pats my shoulder and says something about how I look happy. I smile because I know I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be glowing. I’m supposed to be everything a happy pregnant bride is.
Meanwhile, all I can think about is how to make a swift exit from this conversation, because the last time I saw Lily, there was something wrong.
I noticed the empty chair at my wedding. I watched for her the entire time. When she showed up for the reception, I assumed she was held up.
Or didn’t want to come.
It was a very long and boring ceremony.
She didn’t hug me back. Which, okay, maybe she was putting up that ridiculous front that she doesn’t like affection, but when she asked about the very sweet letter she wrote for me, I noticed she was crying.
I never want to see that again. I hate it more than an argument with my mother, where I have no standing.
I tried to show her all of the decorations, the garden looked beautiful, like something out of a dream, but before I could, she left without an explanation.
I’ve been trying not to freak out, but the list of things that could have hurt Lily is so long, and if something hurt her while I was too occupied with my wedding to protect her, I will never forgive myself.
“I’m going to see Lily,” I say once there’s a lull in conversation, sounding much too eager, the thought of waiting another second becoming unbearable.
My mother trades a look with my father, but I ignore it. I don’t care what they think of her right now.
She was crying when she left.
Pat’s RV isn’t where it’s supposed to be.
Which doesn’t make any sense because it’s always there. I didn’t even realize it worked.
Apparently, it does because it’s gone.
The patch of grass where it usually sits is still flat, and tire marks indent the ground. I blink at the empty space. They must have moved it. Maybe the city told them to park somewhere else. Or maybe they had to take it to get something fixed.
It’s not a big deal.
I’ll find her.
I force myself to breathe normally and start the walk toward her mother’s trailer.
Maybe she went home.
I can see the familiar mess through the screen door, but it’s somehow gotten worse since the last time I came to visit.
Evelyn Price looks at me like she always does. With a glare similar to Lily’s, but no warmth tucked behind it. I don’t take it personal. My family didn’t treat her well after Lily’s dad left.
“Diana.”
“Hi, Mrs. Price.” I give her my most polite smile. “I’m looking for Lily.”
Her cold expression doesn’t change when she says, “I haven’t seen her in weeks.” My stomach drops. I almost think I’m getting hit with morning sickness again.
“Oh,” I force out, because that’s the only thing I can think to say. “Really? She was staying with Pat, but the RV is gone, so I assumed she came back home—”
“She didn’t,” Evelyn interrupts, her voice clipped. “Packed up, left, haven’t heard a word since.”
She doesn’t even sound worried.
The ache in my stomach twists even more, but I force myself to stand a little straighter, to keep the pleasant smile on my face.
I’ll find her.
“Well, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sure she’s fine. You know Lily.”
“I do,” her mom mutters, bitterness creeping into her tone. “Girl does whatever she wants and leaves me here to clean up her mess.”
I bite back my retort, but it takes everything in me. “I’ll… I’ll find her,” I say instead.
Evelyn turns away, already done with this conversation, and shuts the door in my face.
I stand there for a moment on the wooden steps, listening to the sounds of the trailer park around me.
Kids play. A dog barks. Somewhere, someone laughs, all while the anxious, tight feeling tries to fight for dominance inside my head.
I shove it back down. Lily wouldn’t leave without telling me.
No.
She wouldn’t do that to me.
I don’t go home. I sleep in my bed, I eat when my mother makes me, but I don’t get any sleep. The food doesn’t taste like anything. I don’t remember the last time I spoke to Scott, though surely I have.
All of my attention belongs to one thing.
Finding Lily.
I ask around. I go to the diner, the grocery store, the garden. Any place she might have wandered through. Even the dingy old bar in what could be considered the bad part of Rosehill, but everyone gives me the same answer, over and over.
“Haven’t seen her.”
“Not since your wedding.”
“I think I saw her a week ago.”
“Have I seen who?”
My wedding.
The memory is burned into my eyes. Lily breathless, eyes full of something huge and terrifying and gone before I could reach her.
The days blur together.
My feet have blisters, but I pay them no mind. I circle neighborhoods. Roads no one uses. Behind buildings. Down the gravel that leads to the river.
I walk and walk and walk because if I stop before I find her, that means I’ve given up. That I have to admit what I already know in my heart, but refuse to listen to.
Something inside me violently rejects it.
No. Not Lily. She wouldn’t do this to me.
Every day, my mother asks what I’m doing. If I’m seeing Scott today. When I’m going to pack my things and move into his apartment.
“Oh, um… out.”
“I’m sure I’ll see him later.”
“Soon, I promise. This morning sickness…”
I search from sunrise to sunset.
Every single day until I’m almost ready to call it. But when I come home exhausted, only to dream I find her, hair messy, eyes bright, saying my name like she always did, happy to see me…
I get up, and I do it again.
There is no trace of Lily or Pat.
By the end of the week, my naive hope starts to shift into something else entirely.
Still, I walk.
Still, I ask.
But every time someone says, “Haven’t seen her,” something cold and trembling spreads through me.
One afternoon, I stop in the middle of a cracked sidewalk on the other side of town. Children are playing somewhere in the distance, like we used to. And there, the truth presses itself against my chest, heavy and undeniable.
What am I doing?
Lily is gone.
The thought lands completely for the first time. I can’t push it away. There is no hope to cling to.
Lily is gone.
The folder is clutched safely to my chest, containing the signatures I still have. I stand at the back, awaiting the time for my presentation.
I try not to think about the potential outcome without Lily.
The room hums with polite murmurs. A few familiar faces smile at me, but it doesn’t reach their eyes. No one is proud of me anymore. No one admires me. They came to my wedding, and they wished me well, but I know what they’re all thinking.
I’ve disgraced my family.
My father is already seated, his suit jacket neat and his hands folded in front of him. He meets my eyes once, but his expression remains flat.
When it’s finally my turn, I push my shoulders back, stepping forward.
“Please reconsider your decision regarding the community garden,” I start, keeping my voice calm even though inside I’m anything but.
“Look at what we’ve accomplished in such a short time.
I won’t argue that it lost its way, but the garden is alive again.
Families are enjoying it right this moment, and I know that it will bring more to our community than any strip mall ever could. ”
“Diana,” my father interrupts. “Where is your petition?”
I open my mouth, searching for the words that will convince him that I haven’t failed. “Lily… she had them. She’s gone—” My voice cracks.
I try again.
“But we had them! Most of the town. And you see it, don’t you? It matters to people. It’s where I had my wedding.”
He shakes his head. “We can’t base decisions on your feelings. You promised town support. You don’t have it.” He looks around at the other straight-faced politicians and nods. “I think we’re ready for a vote.”
“No!” I shout, knowing I’m embarrassing my father, but I don’t care. I move up to the desk and put my folder down in front of him. “People care! I’ve spoken to them! No one wants this!”
“They haven’t signed.”
“But they did!”
It doesn’t matter what I say. That’s it. Nothing else. No one is even looking at me anymore.
The council votes.
I hear the words. Nothing feels real.
The Rosehill Community Garden is to be demolished.
Walking down the street, my hand is pressed to my rounding belly, feeling the flutter of life inside of me. There’s a small breeze from last night’s rain, carrying the scent of grass from someone’s freshly cut yard.
Clara skips ahead of us, singing a song she learned at school. Scott is talking to my mother and probably me, something about work again, but I don’t hear him. I don’t hear much of anything these days.
Nothing feels important anymore.
Except my baby girl.
Lily would be so excited.
We’re making our way into town, on the outskirts of the square, when I see our garden.
Or rather, what’s left of it.
Metal scoops up the fence Lily painted, tearing it down in big clumps. The sign is broken in half, lying at the top of the dumpster. Flowers are ripped from the ground, all making way for concrete to pour over the whole area.
I freeze, taking in the scene.
And that’s when everything inside of me that I’ve been carefully holding onto unravels completely.
I don’t even realize that I’m running, stumbling across uneven clumps of dirt. Tears blind my vision as my voice erupts into the air, cracking and high-pitched. “Stop! Stop! You can’t do this! Please stop!”
They don’t even look my way.
They can’t hear me over the sound of the last thing I had that was ours being destroyed.
My sobs are ragged, my knees buckle, and I fall to the ground to watch the destruction. Behind me, I can hear Clara’s voice, timid and confused. “Mommy… what’s wrong with Di?”
“Take Clara home,” she says to Scott, ignoring her daughter’s question.
My mother’s presence is a cold weight behind me, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care what she sees. Her perfect daughter on her knees in a patch of dirt, sobbing uncontrollably.
I can’t stop. My lungs fight to breathe, but I can’t.
“I… I love her,” I cry out.
I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.
“I love her, and she’s gone. She’s gone!” My hands claw at my hair, pulling it back to watch in disbelief. “And they… they’re destroying everything! The flowers, the fence! It’s the only thing left, and she’s gone!”
I don’t care about anything but the words over and over in my head and out of my mouth.
I love her.
She’s gone.
Nothing exists outside of the destruction of everything I ever loved.
I shuffle down the stairs at the call of my name. My hair is damp from a bath I didn’t want but forced myself to take. I haven’t seen anyone since my mother dragged me home sobbing uncontrollably.
Since the machines destroyed everything Lily and I built.
My parents sit on the sofa, stiff as boards, while Scott leans against a leather chair, hands in his pockets. “Diana,” my mother says, perfectly neutral, “we’ve been worried about you.”
I don’t believe her.
Scott reaches for me, a hand toward my shoulder. “Di, everything will be okay. I’m—”
I shake him off, meaner than I should have, but I can’t do this.
I can’t pretend.
I can’t pretend that I’m fine. That I’m a happy wife. That I don’t think about Lily every goddamn second.
I sit down in the chair across from my parents. Scott stays close. It takes everything in me not to tell him to go away. My fingers curl around my knees, nails digging into the bare skin there.
I think of Lily, and the way she laughs. The way she makes fun of my parents and says Scott’s name. Full of pure disdain. I smile. It’s enough to make the tightness in my chest go away.
But then reality comes back.
She’s gone. She’s gone, and I’m… I’m not.
I don’t even try to wipe the tears away.
“Diana, honey,” my father says gently. I look up at the sound of his voice.
“Staying in Rosehill isn’t good for you. This town, it brings up too much.” I don’t answer. I keep staring at my hands. He’s not wrong.
Scott’s voice is tentative. “My father’s offered me a job at his firm in Atlanta. We think it would be best for us to have a fresh start there.”
Atlanta.
My mother leans forward, doing her best impression of someone who isn’t terribly disappointed in me. “We’ve found someone who can help you work through these delusions. These ideas Lillian planted in your head.”
“Delusions?” My voice is too quiet. My throat feels raw. “You mean loving her?”
She shifts uncomfortably at those words. “You know the way you fixate. You’ve always been obsessed with that girl. This isn’t healthy, Diana. It’s not normal, and we’re going to get you some help.”
I laugh, but it doesn’t sound right, bouncing around us. Hollow.
“It’s not normal?” I echo. “Don’t you think I know that?
Don’t you think I’ve tried to stop? I’m married, mother.
I’m pregnant. I have everything I’m supposed to have.
But none of it… It doesn’t even matter. She’s gone, and you’re all acting like I’m crazy for caring! Dad let them destroy our garden!”
My parents exchange another one of their looks. My mother’s lips press together in a thin line. My father shifts in his chair. They think this isn’t normal. They think I need help. But they don’t understand.
I’m nothing without her.
So I sit there, and I let them plan my future. Moving to another state, going to a counselor, none of it matters. Lily is gone, and no one, not my parents, not Scott, can help me.