Cattleya

Visiting her husband, she's gone to the cemetery; but which one? She seemed so distraught. What if she's decided to join him?

He searched through the list of cemeteries George had on file. One name caught his eye, "Mariner's Rest'. It was restricted to seafarers and their families. There was an address and a phone number. He called and a machine answered giving information. It was located forty miles west of the city on Seadrift Point near the harbor. Byron asked George if he could borrow his delivery truck for a while and set out to find Cynthia.

***

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky when Byron rolled through the gates of 'Mariners Rest', flanked by several massive ships' anchors set on concrete slabs with brass plaques attached; remnants of shipwrecks long forgotten. A winding gravel road took him past elaborate statuary, tombs, catafalques and simple granite headstones each reflecting some nautical theme.

Then he saw her kneeling before a massive granite headstone, head bowed. He parked and walked over to her, the wet grass making his shoes slip. Hearing his feet squelching in the damp soil, she looked up in surprise.

"Byron! How did you find me? Why are you here?"

"I was concerned for you Cynthia. You just disappeared without a word. You were so distraught the last time we were together, I was worried."

She stood up, her skirt stained by the grass.

"You needn't have worried. I'm quite alright as you can see. I needed to visit my husband."

Byron nodded, looking from her face to the tombstone and back again.

"Does this bring you comfort Cynthia, this visit?"

"I haven't been to Gary's grave since the funeral. I felt the need to speak with him."

"To apologize for kissing me, apologize for beginning to live again? He would never have wanted you to live like this, memories your only friends, your only reality…"

"How dare you tell me what my husband may have thought? You never knew him! No one knew him as I did…"

She paused in her angry diatribe, seeing the sad look on Byron's face.

"You're a sweet man, Byron. I didn't mean to yell at you. I've so enjoyed our time together, it's just that…"

"I'm not Gary, I'll never be Gary. Gary is what you want and he's gone. I enjoyed our time together as well. I was afraid to say this before, but I've fallen in love with you Cynthia. Now that I see how you're still tied to him, I won't bother you any longer. Goodbye."

Byron turned on his heel and walked away. Cynthia watched as he climbed in the truck and drive off.

***

"I'm going away for a while, George. I need to think."

"It's Cynthia isn't it? Did she reject you?"

"She still loves Gary. There's no room in her life, or her heart for anyone else. I just need to travel for a bit, decide what I'm going to do."

"I understand cousin. Take what time you need, I'll manage here. Where are you going?"

"I've always wanted to see the West. I'm taking the train so I can work on the way. I'll call and let you know how things are. I leave in the morning, so I'm going home to pack. Take care, George."

"Take care Byron, have a safe trip."

***

He had just unlocked the shop door when Cynthia burst in. She was not dressed in her usual evening clothes; rather in an Aeropostale sweatshirt, jeans and running shoes. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes flashed.

"Is Byron here George? I must speak with him right away!"

"I'm sorry Cynthia, he's leaving this morning."

"Leaving? He can't leave. I must see him, talk to him. Where is he going?"

"Out west, I'm not sure when he's coming back."

"Would you be a dear and call a cab for me George? I must get to the airport."

"The train station, he's taking the train. Hello. Yes. I need a cab immediately at 1608 Main Street…"

***

Cynthia wended her way through the turmoil of the AMTRAK station, searching for Byron. A look at the departures screen indicated there were two trains leaving in the next fifteen minutes with connections to the western states. They were several gates apart. She took a deep breath and chose one. Passengers were beginning to board as she strode down the platform, looking in car windows and at the lines of people filing on. Byron was nowhere to be seen. Reaching the idling diesel engines, she turned back looking carefully at the passengers. He wasn't there.

Air horns blared, a conductor shouted "All aboard," and the train began to roll. Cynthia watched as the last car disappeared around a curve.

He must have been on the other one. I took a chance and I lost. I've been such a fool. He's a kind and sweet man. He said he loved me. Maybe I can make it to the other gate…

"Cynthia?"

She turned around; Byron was standing there, bags over his shoulders and in his hand. He was smiling.

"Byron! I thought you were on the train. Where did you…?"

"I was stopped and examined because of my computer equipment. They must have thought I was going to do some dastardly deed with it. Then I missed my train. What are you doing here?"

"I…I was looking for you. I wanted to see you. Ask you to change your mind and stay. You said you loved me… "

Byron laid his bags on the platform and held out his arms. Cynthia ran to him and they embraced, kissing again and again, oblivious to the stares of passers-by.

"I thought I had lost you."

"I thought I had lost you!"

"I'm sorry Byron. I let myself live in the past where I was comfortable with my memories. Since we met I've been thinking of you and the future more and more."

"Our future you mean," He said with a chuckle.

"Yes darling, our future."

"I love you Byron."

"I love you Cynthia. Let's go home."

***

George looked up from his order printout as Byron and Cynthia burst in the shop door, laughing and jostling each other, faces suntanned from a week in Bermuda.

"Well, here are the newlyweds. How was the honeymoon?"

"We had so much fun, George," Cynthia gushed. "We went parasailing, horseback riding, SCUBA diving…"

"We even found time to muss up that canopied bed in the cottage," Byron added.

"You are so naughty," Cynthia said in mock exasperation, swatting him on the arm.

"Speaking of naughty," Byron countered, "What about that night in the pool when you…"

"Oooo, you are so bad," Cynthia giggled, and they began wrestling playfully.

"Get a room willya. Some of us have a business to run."

"Oh phoo, we were just leaving. Byron is taking me shopping for new furniture aren't you sweetie?"

"Yep, especially for a big bed, see you later, cuz."

George watched them stroll down the sidewalk arm in arm. His phone warbled.

"World of Flowers, George speaking, hello Ryan…not bad, how about you? Great. Yes, my usual order…wait…I won't need but half the amount of Cattleya orchids this time…"

End.