Candy Flip at a Funeral

One Single Rose

Written for the Roses & Thorns Valentine’s Day Writing Challenge: The Bright Side, hosted by Wendy Cockcroft and Dblkrose of BSP

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I opened the door and saw the rose before I noticed who was holding it.

It was beautiful. One single rose, so perfectly cut that I wasn’t sure if it was real or not. You know the one from The Beauty and The Beast? It was that pretty.

Well no, it was prettier.

It was pure white. Every petal shaped perfectly by the careful hands of Mother Nature herself.

I realized I had been staring at the rose a few seconds longer than what would be considered ‘normal’.

My eyes moved to the hand holding the rose.

Her nails matched the petals in pure white.

A tiny blue heart on her pinky.

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We sit on the couch and talk about nothing and everything. The rose has found its new home in the tallest glass I own, and I can’t help but stare at it whenever I’m not drowning in her eyes.

“…at least he was smart enough to shut up then!”

Oh crap I wasn’t listening. I think I should laugh now?

I giggle and luckily that was the right response. Or maybe not, she always lets me get away with it.

“Let’s run away?”

I see 7 emotions pass over her face within 0.4 seconds.

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“I love you,”

her arms squeeze tighter around my waist.

My hand finds her thigh, eyes on the road.

180 down the highway, the waves to our right and forest to the left. I don’t need to hear, I know the sound she’s making from the vibrations through my leather jacket.

My Jaguar. Mine.

We camp on a hill and watch the sunset drinking whiskey. The sky turns red and our moans disappear into the trees.

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Continents later.

A postcard changes the look in her eyes. Gone is my sushine, and I don’t know what the consequences will be when it storms.

Brother. Hospital.

I taste steel in my eyes. My spine is static on the Television it’s screaming at me don’t look at it don’tlookat it it was just the lightning I’m here imhere im here i got you you’reokay igotyou

I have to exist again.

No more freedom.

You don’t have to come. You can stay free.

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Passport?

Welcome Home.

He’s waiting for us with a sign. Are you kidding me? A fricken sign at an airport.

“Ding, Dong, the Bitch is Dead”

I didn’t realize how much I missed him.

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We cry over drinks in The Local Pub.

You know how it is. You grow up thinking your mom is the most wonderful being. My first word was Mama. Then you sleep over at a friend’s house for the first time and their mom doesn’t yell when you drop your fork. Her dad doesn’t blow smoke in your face when he comes home from the pub, grabs a plate of food and a handful of ass.

I don’t like that she’s looking at me like this. Pity. Confusion. But she’s here. She’s facing it with me. Reality sucks, take me back to the tent on the island. Take me back to the bathtub in the valley.

You swallow your pride in your 20s and go home for Christmas and some years you fool yourself when it’s almost normal. Dad left years ago and sends a message every birthday. Only after I disappeared did he suddenly remember he had 2 kids.

How’s Dad?

You know he’s trying. He’s been asking about you. He’s been sober 11 months. Smokes weed with his buddies.

“No stoner goes home and hits his wife,” I blurt automatically.

Too soon?

and the next round of tequilas come.

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Funerals are really sad on TV. Fucking religious propaganda. Life should be celebrated. You only live once… in this body.

Yeah, she was a shit mom but that means her friends all know how to party. Why wouldn’t you candy flip at a funeral?

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It’s a 20 year old campervan, it’s worth nothing.

So then give it to her weird boyfriend. But can we just go away for one weekend?

It’s got good bones.

Is that a hammock?

Oh my gosh, a photo album!

I wake up, the campfire only embers now. The album fell open on the floor. There’s a white rose in mom’s hair. Dad’s holding the two of us in one arm. All 4 of us wearing blue and smiling in one photo? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one.

Let's get you to bed my love. Tomorrow’s sunset is 1000 miles away.

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