“That’s good,” I say, and after that, there’s nothing to say. It’s sad because, in addition to being Tessa’s sister, Liz was Tessa’s best friend, and because of that, she and I had been pretty close.
She clears her throat. “Listen, I was calling you because I planned on going to lay flowers on Tessa’s grave today. Can you believe that it’s been four years already?”
Horror comes over me. I glance at the small calendar on my desk. Liz is right. Four years ago today, we lost Tessa. I can’t believe that I forgot. How? It’s the first time something like that has ever happened.
“I find your flowers every year, and I thought that this year, we could go together,” Liz says.
I’m disappointed in myself, and I can’t help thinking over and over again that if Liz hadn’t told me, I would have missed laying flowers at my wife’s grave.
“Yeah, okay,” I say.
We arrange to meet outside the cemetery at half-past two o’clock. When I disconnect the call, an avalanche of guilt hits me.
“I’m so sorry, Tessa,” I murmur while covering my face. “It won’t happen again.”
I leave a little early to give myself time to buy the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers that I can find. Later, I drive to the cemetery, park the car, and get out. The memories of the day we laid Tessa to rest are not as strong now. All I remember was that it had been a summer day like today. I remember wondering how I could be in such pain on such a beautiful day.
I don’t notice Liz until she walks up to me at the cemetery entrance.
“Hey,” she says smiling unsurely.
“Hello, stranger,” I say and smile to show her that the past doesn’t matter. We all did what we had to do to survive losing Tessa.
We hug and walk into the cemetery together.
“It’s good to see you looking so well,” she says.
“Thanks. You look well too. It’s true what they say; time is a healer,” I tell her.
We chat as we walk along a path between the graves. I notice a man standing by Tessa’s graveside with his head bowed low. He’s wearing a hat, but his blond hair is long and touches his shoulders. He is no one I know.
Liz hasn’t noticed him yet as she’s busy telling me about her life, her husband, and their two-year-old son. We get closer, and the sounds of his sobs reach us, drawing Liz’s attention.
She touches my arm. “Wait here.”
I do as she says and watch as she hurries to the man’s side. I worry, and I follow her, and when I get close, I catch the last of the conversation.
“… great future together.”
“You have to go. Please.”
He turns and meets my gaze. He stares at me longer than normal with his red-rimmed eyes and then leaves.
“That was Chad, an old family friend. He went to school with Tessa,” Liz says with a small smile. She turns from me toward Tessa’s grave. “She loved daffodils,” Liz says as she lays her flowers on the grave.
“She did.”
“Do you remember when she decided to rent a patch and grow her own daffodils?” Liz says, laughter in her voice. “She gave it up after two weeks saying that the ground was too hard.”
I laugh as I remember the sheepish look that Tessa had worn as she explained why she had stopped gardening. Tessa had loved projects, but rarely did she carry them to fruition.
Liz and I are soon laughing as we exchange Tessa’s stories.
When it’s time to leave, I don’t feel like parting from Liz just yet. It feels as if I have a part of Tessa again. “Do you want to go for a drink?” I ask her.
She smiles warmly. “I’d love to. I want to catch up and hear all about you.”
We agree that I follow her to a bar downtown called Spritos. I’m assailed by all sorts of emotions as I drive. It’s odd that Liz and her parents were such a big part of my life, and then suddenly, they weren’t.
Liz and I settle on a table in a quiet corner, and a server comes over. We both ask for cold beers, and as we wait, we stare at each other and then laugh self-consciously.
“I can’t tell you how good it feels to see you after so long,” she says. “I have a feeling that Tessa is smiling down at us,” Liz says.
“It’s great to see you, too.”
There are so many things I want to ask her. Like why they were so unwilling to keep the communication lines open with me, but I don’t. I don’t want to scare her off.
“I’m surprised you got married,” I say after the server brings our food. Liz had been one of those young women who were very adamant that she intended to concentrate on her career as a lawyer and no man was going to hold her down.