When We Were Wildflowers

Chapter 25 - Big Changes

I can hardly keep my heavy eyelids open as we sit at Alicia's kitchen table waiting for breakfast the morning after the toilet papering incident. The cleanup took nearly two hours—first we had to pull down all the toilet paper off the tree, then remove the forks, and, finally, hose off the front of the house, the garage door and the cars. It took some scrubbing to get the syrup off, and, at that moment, I was so glad I didn't spell out any bad words. Luke and his family were angry, to be sure, but no one called the police which was a win. Mrs. Overton is basically the GOAT when it comes to conflict resolution, and Luke's parents were thanking her by the time we left.

When we stumbled back into the van, Poppy was nestled in the third row seat, sleeping like a baby. Seeing her so calm and peaceful brought a smile to my face. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

"You girls look so tired." Mrs. Overton rests a platter of pancakes on the table and when she sets down the pancake syrup we can't help but laugh. "Bet you never want to see this stuff again."

"Thanks again for being so understanding," Poppy says with a yawn.

"Like I said last night, I was a teenager once, too." She sits down with her cup of coffee. "With so much going on these days—-Poppy's situation and Violet moving to Chicago soon—-I think it was important for you to bond and have a little fun."

My first bite of pancake almost gets lodged in my throat. "What?!"

"Violet's not moving." Poppy laughs at the ridiculous suggestion, then looks to me. "Right, Violet?"

"No, definitely not. We just moved here!"

"Oh, dear." Mrs. Overton winces painfully. "I guess your Mom hasn't told the news. She's moving back home to be near your grandma and asked me to put on the house on the market. We're listing it on Monday. Please, forget I said anything."

I stand up as panic sets in. My mom grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and attended college at Baylor University in Texas, where she met my Dad. We go back once or twice a year to visit Grandma, but I can't imagine mom wanting to pick up and move again, especially not so far away. This can't be happening.

"Sit down, sweetie." Mrs. Overton pats my chair. "I shouldn't have opened my big mouth. I'm so sorry you are finding out like this."

I turn to Poppy, and she is staring down at her uneaten pancakes in shock. Alicia looks at her mom like a deer caught in the headlights. This news takes us all by surprise, but me most of all. At first I am numb, not quite sure if this is reality or a dream. My eyes won't focus and my legs don't want to move. I am frozen in disbelief.

There's no way. It doesn't make any sense.

When it's clear I won't be sitting down anytime soon, Mrs. Overton rises from her chair and wraps her arms around me. "Oh, Violet. I know this must be so difficult."

I want to push her away at first, anger igniting inside me like the flames of a fire, but I'm not mad at her. Mrs. Overton is so patient and kind, I sink into her and blink away my tears of rage.

Dad did this. Mom did this. In this moment, I hate them both. How can I live without Poppy in my life?  Why would they do this to me?!

"There, there." Mrs. Overton rubs my back lovingly.

I hear wailing—a deep, primal cry—and I am shocked to realize it's coming from me. The dam has broken and my tears are falling freely like a river overflowing its banks. Poppy is at my side, wrapping her arms around me as she softly weeps, and Alicia runs her hands through my hair. I am wrapped in the embrace of three strong women and know they are holding me up when the floor fell out from under me, giving me the strength to stand and helping me pick up the pieces of my shattered heart.