“Sam when I look at your calendar it’s filled with things I know nothing about. You’re looking at applying for an apprentice Vice Principal? Going on trips by yourself. These aren’t good signs at all,” Eunice said.
“I told you about Little Rock,” he said.
“It hurts me that I can’t be the person that makes you smile. I seem to cause you grief, more than anything. I guess the reverse is true too,” she said.
He felt a chill down his spine. Was she looking for him to console her? How had he misunderstood? She was turning the tables again, reciting his issues as her own.
“All I can do is pray we find a way back. I don’t think either of us wants to continue like this much longer,” she said.
She could live and die blaming everything on his anger and cursing. That’s when he knew his goose was cooked!
“How about identifying your side of things, like Lynch suggested? I know he makes it sound, so fuckin’ easy!” Sam said. He burst out laughing, at his own cursing.
Eunice cracked a Mona Lisa smile.
“Do you think that we can make each other happy? I don’t know the answer anymore? Time apart when you are in Little Rock, will be good I guess. We’ve been walking a tightrope and the anxiety is debilitating,” she said. She sounded as if her questions were answered and she was planning her future.
“I don’t know. This is brutal!” he said, in a whisper while staring blankly at her. He was sapped of emotion and felt weak.
“How long will you be gone?” she asked.
“2-3 days as far as I know. Tom is a talker so it all depends. This is timely. I wrote you a poem. May I read it to you?” he asked. The only way was to forgive her, for what she didn’t care to know.
“Anything but feelings Sam!” she laughed too.
You have not watered me lately
You feel guilty about not watering me
You try not to think about watering me because you know it’s been too long
You know it’s wrong
Lily leaves are brown and falling off
You see me looking awful but it seems too late to save me
You buy me a new planter to amend for not taking care of me
I just want water
I love watering your Peace Lily
Each week, I give you too much water
The Peace Lily doesn’t say she’s receiving too much water
She is afraid to tell me it’s too much water
I’m getting angry the Lily doesn’t appreciate my water
You are starting to revolt, your leaves over moist and falling off
You simply want less water
We only have two options
We can kill the Peace Lily and be done with it
We can blame each other and kill the Lily is nearly dead
Or we can collaborate lovingly, agreeing on the right amount of water
“You wrote that yourself? I think your poem is good. Maybe I’ll understand you better,” she said, looking awkward and embarrassed.
“I did,” he beamed proudly. Sam had no clue, it was the last time he would see her.