Read Online Elly In Bloom by Colleen Oakes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colleen Oakes
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up?” she asked.
“Yeah. She’s sleeping in my room.” He paused, looking a little queasy. “I have never seen vomit that color.”
Elly laughed. She found talking with him to be calm and easy, like drinking sweet tea. He settled in the chair next to her, his face lit up periodically by turning headlights.
“Elly,” he started drumming on the end of the chair, “tell me something about you.”
Elly mentally checked off the things she wouldn’t tell him about. Georgia. Aaron. Deep-seeded weight insecurity. An addiction to trashy romantic reality shows.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well…” he traced his finger down the edge of her chair, inches from her skin. “How did you decide to open a flower shop?”
Ah, that I can talk about , Elly thought.
“After my mother died of ovarian cancer, I received her life insurance policy as well as the proceeds from her house sale. She had taken it out while I was very young and it had built up over time. It sat in the bank forever.”
She paused to take a large sip of wine. She could feel herself getting sleepier with every passing minute, with every passing drink.
“I couldn’t even think of touching it, not for a long time. It felt like I traded my mother for that money. I was still grieving, three years after the fact.” She felt a rising lump in her throat, and veered immediately in another direction. “When I arrived here in St. Louis, I couldn’t handle the thought of more office politics, or running stupid errands for my boss, like spending hours searching for a new sushi restaurant, or having to spend most of the day typing up documents.” She had purposefully glossed over her overly dramatic departure and was relieved that he hadn’t noticed.
Isaac nodded empathetically. “I totally understand. I’ve never been a person who wanted that. My parents never understood. Parents just don’t get it.”
Elly ignored what sounded to be the most teenage sentence ever and continued talking.
“I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. Kim – that’s my best friend – helped me carve out a plan. I had no clue what the future held, but I wanted something…earthy.”
There was much Elly wasn’t saying. She didn’t just want earthy. She wanted to immerse herself in something messy. Something dirty and moist, something to make herself forget what she had left. She dreamed, after she left Aaron, of damp earth, of ivy growing under her skin, or her eyes turning into poppy blooms or her body getting covered in veiny soil. It was as if God has sent a garden to spring up around her to heal her pain. She glanced at Isaac, who was staring at her as she spoke.
“I was staying with Kim and her husband Sean at the time, and I just ran across the shop. It was vacant.”
The day was etched so clear in her memory, just two years ago. She remembered sitting on Kim’s couch, going through tissue after tissue, as Kim played both host and therapist. Her days had consisted of waking, eating, sleeping, waking, talking for six hours, and then sleeping again. Elly had not left Kim’s house for weeks. Sean had proven himself to be everything that Aaron wasn’t – patient, kind and understanding – by letting a strange, weepy woman stay in his home for months on end.
After weeks of crying, Elly started waking up earlier, moving around more, and looking towards what happened next. One afternoon, Sean finally had asked if she would mind if he stole his wife for the afternoon, and Elly found herself with hours to kill. She walked down the leaf-covered paths that led to Wydown Street, where she knew she could find solace in a piece of lemon cake covered with delicate frosting swirls.
It was early fall, but the air had still felt like summer, and the sun barreled down on her bare neck. It felt good to be out of the house. Elly, for the first time, realized that perhaps, just maybe, she would live through this experience and be better for it. She turned the
“Yeah. She’s sleeping in my room.” He paused, looking a little queasy. “I have never seen vomit that color.”
Elly laughed. She found talking with him to be calm and easy, like drinking sweet tea. He settled in the chair next to her, his face lit up periodically by turning headlights.
“Elly,” he started drumming on the end of the chair, “tell me something about you.”
Elly mentally checked off the things she wouldn’t tell him about. Georgia. Aaron. Deep-seeded weight insecurity. An addiction to trashy romantic reality shows.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well…” he traced his finger down the edge of her chair, inches from her skin. “How did you decide to open a flower shop?”
Ah, that I can talk about , Elly thought.
“After my mother died of ovarian cancer, I received her life insurance policy as well as the proceeds from her house sale. She had taken it out while I was very young and it had built up over time. It sat in the bank forever.”
She paused to take a large sip of wine. She could feel herself getting sleepier with every passing minute, with every passing drink.
“I couldn’t even think of touching it, not for a long time. It felt like I traded my mother for that money. I was still grieving, three years after the fact.” She felt a rising lump in her throat, and veered immediately in another direction. “When I arrived here in St. Louis, I couldn’t handle the thought of more office politics, or running stupid errands for my boss, like spending hours searching for a new sushi restaurant, or having to spend most of the day typing up documents.” She had purposefully glossed over her overly dramatic departure and was relieved that he hadn’t noticed.
Isaac nodded empathetically. “I totally understand. I’ve never been a person who wanted that. My parents never understood. Parents just don’t get it.”
Elly ignored what sounded to be the most teenage sentence ever and continued talking.
“I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. Kim – that’s my best friend – helped me carve out a plan. I had no clue what the future held, but I wanted something…earthy.”
There was much Elly wasn’t saying. She didn’t just want earthy. She wanted to immerse herself in something messy. Something dirty and moist, something to make herself forget what she had left. She dreamed, after she left Aaron, of damp earth, of ivy growing under her skin, or her eyes turning into poppy blooms or her body getting covered in veiny soil. It was as if God has sent a garden to spring up around her to heal her pain. She glanced at Isaac, who was staring at her as she spoke.
“I was staying with Kim and her husband Sean at the time, and I just ran across the shop. It was vacant.”
The day was etched so clear in her memory, just two years ago. She remembered sitting on Kim’s couch, going through tissue after tissue, as Kim played both host and therapist. Her days had consisted of waking, eating, sleeping, waking, talking for six hours, and then sleeping again. Elly had not left Kim’s house for weeks. Sean had proven himself to be everything that Aaron wasn’t – patient, kind and understanding – by letting a strange, weepy woman stay in his home for months on end.
After weeks of crying, Elly started waking up earlier, moving around more, and looking towards what happened next. One afternoon, Sean finally had asked if she would mind if he stole his wife for the afternoon, and Elly found herself with hours to kill. She walked down the leaf-covered paths that led to Wydown Street, where she knew she could find solace in a piece of lemon cake covered with delicate frosting swirls.
It was early fall, but the air had still felt like summer, and the sun barreled down on her bare neck. It felt good to be out of the house. Elly, for the first time, realized that perhaps, just maybe, she would live through this experience and be better for it. She turned the
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