Chapter 25

BETTY

I'm staring at the roses on the wooden table in the living room, they seem to stare back at me, they look so beautiful yet scary.

It's been years since I’ve experienced a first time in this kind of grand gesture, it caught me off guard, I won’t lie.

The first bouquet arrived at my office on a day I was feeling so down, it brightened my mood and lifted my spirit. And after that day, the flowers kept coming and unconsciously I began to look forward to seeing flowers every other week, carefully wrapped in brown paper with no note; I felt special.

At thirty five you don’t expect anonymous admirers that happened in your early twenties to mid twenties especially not when you spend most of your life either inside your home watching your favourite show or in a classroom, engrossed in lesson plans and essays that all look the same. So yeah, this made me smile. And I loved coming to my office to see new sets of flowers.

It kind of turned me on, but then I thought to myself, what if Adam was behind this?

After all, this was something he would do, try to catch my attention by all means, but he did it in a more spooky way. The notes didn’t sound like him, except if it wasn’t him writing the note.

Not until Michael Bolton walked up to me confessing he was the brain behind this, this twenty-two-year-old Barry past boyhood stumbling between late parties and heavily relying on his father's money was behind the nasty messages. Somehow I preferred when it was anonymous now the mystery was gone and it was creepy.

But these roses are too expensive to be thrown away.

Those damn messages came to mind when I was playing with myself as usual. It was crazy, I pictured Michael eating me out.

I slapped myself hard on the face, not thinking about him. It’s inappropriate and you know it.

Suddenly a loud knock jolted me out of my reverie. It startled me, causing me to sit upright.

I dragged my feet to the door and when I opened it my eyes widened in surprise.

“Maya!”I gushed, tears almost streaming down my face.

She had a wide smile on her face, my best friend of over fifteen years was standing on my porch right in front of me, her arms already wide open, I didn’t hesitate to throw myself at her, hugging her so tightly she almost staggered backwards.

“Happy birthday, babes,” she cheered.

I pulled back and looked at her properly, I can’t believe she flew all the way from Louisiana to wish me a sweet happy birthday.

“Thank you, Maya, it means a lot, please come in,” I said amidst my laughter. She still had that same dazzling smile just that she had veneers on now, but she still looked confident and perfect.

If this is what being a mother did to women then maybe I’ll reconsider. Even with three grown children she had somehow retained her figure. Her loose curls tumbled across her heart-shaped face, making her look like a supermodel straight out of a magazine and she smelled so divine.

“You look gorgeous Maya,” I commented, shaking my head in disbelief. “Three kids and you still look like you are in your mid twenties? What’s the secret?”

She burst into innocent laughter, her eyes slanting. “Well I hit the gym regularly, I don’t play about my skin care routine and I don’t worry about what Dave is doing.”

“That’s true,” I said as we both headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine.

“But look at you, if anyone is aging backward, then it’s you. Damn, you look like a fine wine Betty, if I wasn’t close to you I would never guess you clocked thirty-five today.”

Hearing the age on her tongue felt pleasant when it was supposed to be hard. It feels like the years rolled by in my eyes and I did nothing productive. I didn't fall in love, I just fell deep and deep into a mess and work. But then I focused on the compliment, which was the whole point anyway.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Sparkling wine please, “ she says in a charismatic way.

“Oh, you never change!” I said as we both laughed in unison.

I poured us a glass of wine and we clinked the glass together. “ I seriously thought you wouldn’t make it,”

“Please, you know I would do anything for you, you are my best friend.”

“Aw. Even if you couldn’t make it, I would understand, taking care of the boys must have taken your time…”

“Please,” she cut me off, “ I want to be here for you, it’s been a while since we actually met up and had a nice moment.”

She dropped her leather handbag on the table, her gaze darted across the kitchen then she lifted her brows slowly.

“Betty… What's going on? Do you sell flowers?”

“No.”

“So why is your house filled with flowers? You’ve got like… dozens of cases scattered around.”

I chucked nervously as I gulped my wine quickly trying to avoid the question, but Maya seemed invested so it would be rude to slip it under the rug.

“Well, what can I say? Just some bunch of jobless admirers.” I gushed and poured myself another wine. At this point, I might get drunk.

“Wow! Admirers?” She says placing her hand on her chin, a grin playing on her face. “Like, admirer with an ‘s’ damn girl, I was right, you are the ‘it’ girl, I need to know your secret.”

“You are off the market Maya!” I said brushing it off like it was nothing even though my mouth ached to tell her the truth, she was my best friend after all but then I was scared of being judged, even secretly.

“So how did you pull them?” she asked with a smile on her face, damn, she really hadn’t given up.

“I don’t like them!” I retorted almost immediately.

“You should give one of them a chance,” she said holding my hands, I managed to crack out a small smile.

“You know you couldn’t love Lorenzo? No matter how hard he tried to impress you, well that’s how I feel.”

“These men can’t be that bad!”

“Well, they are that bad!”

I poured us another glass of wine avoiding her gaze. I hated that she was excited for nothing, if only she knew it was Michael, a student in my class who was obsessed with me then she would definitely disapprove.

“What’s bad about them? I know you have always been into older guys with biceps and a deep baritone voice?” Maya asked, there was something about the way she emphasized ‘ older guys’ that made me wonder if she knew the real situation.

“He… I mean, they are not my type!” I blurted out.

Maya lifted an eyebrow in suspicion. “What’s really going on? When did having a ‘ type’ ever stop anyone? You once fell so madly in love with a guy with bow legs, you said it was really cute.”

“Ewww!” I laughed, “Things have changed now, I have grown, I know what I want, I go for it, no bending of rules.”

She nods, “Anyway I brought something for you.” She said her smile lit up the mood.

I perked up. “What is it?”

She reached into her leather bag and yelled out a thick worn photo album. I recognized that brown cover, I’ve had it since college.

I let out a gasp. “ No way. How did you? Oh my God! Where did you get this from?”

She winked at me, placing it on the table. “Well I never lost it, I’ve always had it, I look at it from time to time.”

I let out a half-laugh, half groan. “Oh my God. It feels awkward. We're going to regret this.”

“Only in the best way,” Maya said, her grin mischievous.

We opened the first page, and just like that I went back in time, when I was barely eighteen, a fresh man, too skinny and awkward, with hair too big and glasses too wide for my face.

Dresses that should have been illegal, eyeliner applied like war paint, and those ridiculous matching chokers we swore made us look like rockstars.

“Aww we were such gothic babes,” I said, tracing a finger over a photo of us at a fundraiser, “ damn, we looked so small and innocent.”

Nostalgia rushed through me, I know Maya felt the same.

“Life was so easy back then, with no kids…” she laughed but it was forced. I looked up to see her cleaning her wet face with the back of her hands, her lips pressed in a thin line.

“Babe? What’s wrong?”I said, setting my hands on her shoulders.

She turned to face me. “It’s Dave, I found out he was having an affair with our son's teacher.”

How could he treat Maya like that? She was adorable, almost too good for him!

But inside my mind, I was thankful I wasn’t married yet, this was one of the reasons I liked being single, no heartbreak, especially after Adam.

I learned to be with myself. I pulled her in for a hug.

“Come here babe, I’m so sorry!”