The next morning, Lorri sat with her mom on the back porch sipping coffee.
“Thank you for this wonderful time together, Lorri.”
“I’m glad I came. This was really nice.”
“And overdue. I’m happy we had such a good visit.”
“I’d love for you to see my place. It’s not that far, but if you don’t want to drive it, I’ll even come and get you.”
“I think we can make it down there. Have you made some friends?”
“Yeah, I have, and I know all my neighbors too.”
“Any special friends?” Mom’s eyes were full of hope and speculation.
Lorri thought not to mention Ryder, but she had a feeling Pam may have already mentioned him to Mom. “I thought so. Just friends, but it was refreshing to do something with a man who wasn’t pushing his own agenda. Really sweet guy, a gentleman, even cooked for me.”
“He sounds perfect. Does he dance?”
Pam had definitely mentioned him. She shouldn’t be surprised. Her parents treated Pam like another daughter. “Yeah. We danced. He’s an amazing dancer, but it’ll never work. I’m not even sure we can be friends.”
“If he’s a good man why are you so sure?”
“He was widowed seven years ago. Lost his wife and son in a car accident.” She wondered if Mom would put it together more quickly than she had. It took a moment, then her eyes widened. She figured it out. Lorri shook her head. “I know. What are the odds? Mom, he’s the husband of the—”
“Don’t even say it. Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it.”
Lorri’s hands shook. “It took me a long time to figure it out. I don’t know how I didn’t realize it sooner. He must hate me.”
“No. Lorri. You are not responsible for Jeff’s mistakes. You’ve forgiven Jeff finally. Now you need to forgive yourself, too. I have no idea what Ryder’s journey is. He may or may not let you in, but I know if you two were brought together in such a strange way, then there’s a reason. Don’t be afraid to leave the past where it is.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Well, it’s simple. You pray. You put one foot in front of the other. You get up every morning and make it a good day. Trust that it will be okay and when you slip back into the past, stop yourself. Take another step forward and keep going.”
“I’ll try.” She hugged Mom and Dad walked into the room with Mister. “You’re just in time, Dad. I’m getting ready to go home.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Call me if you need a pep talk. You’re going to be fine. I never had to worry about you, honey.”
Dad said, “That’s one big dog. What was Craig thinking buying that thing?”
“He’s a good dog, and I never worry about my safety.”
“Since you refuse to get a gun, I guess he’s a good option to keep my little girl safe.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“Lorri, thank you for coming,” Dad said. “We needed this, but don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t mention your new friend. Pam told us about Ryder. He sounds more like a man who deserves a girl as special as you.”
I knew it.
“I always wanted better than Craig for you. If you two ever become more than friends I expect to meet him.”
Dad could still make her feel like his little girl. “I promise, Daddy.”
“Are you driving straight home?”
“Pretty much. Just a couple short stops on the way back, but they won’t take long. I’ll call and let you know when I get there.”
She pulled away from the curb and headed south. She wished she could turn back time and have been there for Mom and Dad before. This visit had been way overdue.
She drove around the block, driving without a real plan. Then she turned into the parking lot of a supermarket, and went inside. She must’ve stood there trying to decide what kind of flowers to buy for a good five minutes. Finally, she grabbed a handful of red Gerbera daisies and took them to the self-checkout.
The flowers made Jeff being gone seem real for the first time. She started her car and began driving. Her mind was full of the stories and pictures she and her parents had shared last night, but she was alone now, with her own emotions, as she drove to where Jeff had been buried.
She entered the gates and drove to the back where the tall building with the cremated remains of bodies were stacked like Legos. More buildings had been added since she’d been here. So many lives. Gone. Across the way, a woman sobbed into a hankie, dabbing at her eyes.
“You stay here, Mister.” She lowered the windows halfway, then got out and walked to where Jeff’s remains had been stored in a wall that looked so utilitarian. Every square marked with an engraved bronze plaque in the exact same design. No difference. No way of knowing any information about the loved one there. She lifted the flowers and dropped them into the cylinder beside Jeff’s name.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I know your life was hard. I hope where you are now only good things are happening. That you’re never cold, or hungry. Never faced with difficult choices. Knowing that you will always be loved.”
She glanced over as a silver-haired man and young daughter walked by.
“I picked those flowers for a reason,” she said quietly. “Do you remember that day?” She waited, but there was no answer. No feeling that he was listening. She didn’t deserve it. Not yet. “You were right about Craig. You always were a good judge of character. What happened to you? I wish I could understand it. You were the smart one between us. The talented one. I don’t know how this happened to your life. It seems so unfair that yours was so hard. Why would God let that happen?”
She stood waiting for the father and daughter to leave. “Remember junior prom? I had bought my dress and everything. Craig called and canceled on me the day before saying he was sick. Later I found out that he’d taken someone else to the dance.” She swept a tear away. “You brought me Gerbera daisies. You said they were happy flowers and I deserved to be happy. You also told me Craig would never be good enough for me. I wish I’d listened.”
Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I love you, Jeff. I miss the brother that always had my back. I’m tired of being mad at you.” She walked up to the columbarium and placed her hand on Jeff’s name. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
She turned and headed back to her car. Mister had his head hung out the side window. With her hands in her pockets, she walked along, paying little attention to anything when her foot turned on the sidewalk. As she stumbled, a yellow butterfly flew over and paused for a moment, then flitted from one side of her to the other.
“Little lisa.” Eurema lisa, like the one that almost landed right in my hand that day with Ryder. Like the beautiful design she’d created for Ryder’s scholarship initiative.
The butterfly rose higher, then swirled back toward her nearly brushing her cheek, then flew away.
Mister spotted her and let out a woof. The SUV rocked from the weight of him lunging side to side. “That took longer than expected. You’re a good boy.” She reached into the glove box and grabbed a dog treat. “Here you go.” He chomped on it, immediately forgiving her.
She drove home thinking of that butterfly. The visit with her parents had been uplifting.
As they got closer to home, Mister recognized the neighborhood, standing and pressing his nose to the glass.
“We’re home,” she said as she pulled into the garage. She let Mister jump down from the truck, then they went inside and she called Dad so he wouldn’t worry. He answered on the first ring.
“I made it home.” She put a scoop of dog food in Mister’s bowl. He nudged the kibble around, never one to be fast about anything.
“Thanks for letting us know,” Dad said, speaking for them both. “We really enjoyed the visit.”
“Me too.” She adjusted the thermostat.
Dad said, “Please come for Thanksgiving. We’d love that. Your aunt and uncle are coming to town too. It should be nice.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She hung up and checked her emails and messages.
Mister came over and rested his damp chin on her thigh. The older he got the droolier he was. She grabbed a couple of tissues and dabbed at his jowls. Like a child, he twisted out of her reach.
She let Mister out back.
Lorri went upstairs to her studio and turned on the lights. She raised the blinds one by one, sunlight filling the room, then sat in front of the painting she’d been working on.
She closed her eyes, letting her mind slow. She was sorry she’d found it so easy to judge Jeff for the way he spent his life. She still hadn’t figured out what she was supposed to really do with hers. Yes, she tried to be kind and considerate. Worked hard and didn’t create drama. And now she was here in this small town. Running from the conflict. At first anyway, but she didn’t regret the move. Not for a moment.
She missed spending time with Ryder. Wished it could’ve been different. They spoke honestly, even when the conversations were difficult.
Was that because of Ryder, or had she changed?
“Does it matter?” She stared at the painting of Ryder’s property. All those colors they’d enjoyed the other day.
Her dream had been to create art that was thought-provoking and hope-filled. Something that would tickle a memory or make someone take a trip to see what she’d painted for them, or for those limited to travel, a way to share what they may have never had the opportunity to experience otherwise.
She was ready to experience that. To trust her gift and give it her all. The graphics for work were directed by hungry account execs looking for ways to manipulate or sway the purchasing public into seeing things their way. Harboring the keeping-up-with-the-Joneses attitude, dreaming bigger than their pocketbooks could comfortably afford. It paid her bills, had done so for years now.
This painting, it filled her heart rather than her bank account. She now understood the heart and soul needed to be full too.
She’d done exactly what her Dad had told her she should do. But for all those financially comfortable years, she’d sacrificed attention to the things that were important to her. To top it off the one person she did all of that for, Craig, hadn’t cared enough to even honor their vows. The lesson there was clear. Do what matters to me. It’s my journey. My purpose. I’ll touch the right people.
She spread a few colors and made soft purposeful dabs. The new brushes Pam had given her felt good in her hand.
The images took shape with each pull of her brush.
There was more in this landscape than the trees, creek, and mill. There were memories, laughs, and whimsy. The tiny butterfly, little lisa, floating along the top of the seed heads between the tall blades of grass, zigging and zagging haphazardly as if the act of taking flight had made it dizzy, like the one that day when Lorri went horseback riding with Ryder, and maybe a distant relative of the butterfly that had practically kissed her cheek when she left Jeff today with less anger in her heart.