Anemone

Violet: Dove

Amias arrived at the airport at the cusp of dawn to an empty reception and a the low tin of sleepy fliers. He meant what he said in not knowing when he'd be back to see Dr. Naran, but all he'd brought with him was a backpack and a carry-on.

Though it seemed he was ill-planned yet again. He didn't call, he didn't book a hotel, he didn't have an inkling of an idea of what he'd do here. He had some idea of what he meant to do, like visit Seona and Aneta and bringing flowers to Isabel. Anemones, probably. She would've really loved those flowers too.

But for now, he'd find the closest hotel to Seona's and try to get a room, then give her a call in the later morning.

::

"You're in town and you didn't tell me?" a voice snapped at the other end of the line. "Seriously? Argh! You're still the same moron as always no matter how many degrees you have! Where are you?"

Amias took a bite of his doughnut and glanced up at the sign he stood under.

"Do you remember that bakery we always went to in college?"

"The bakery— you're at Golden Bakery?! Amias Yeo, when I get there in fifteen minutes you better have gotten raspberry tarts for me and a chocolate chip cookie for Aneta!"

Click.

He stared down at the blank screen of his phone with a fond smile. He didn't change to her, and it was much of the same for him. She had always been a grounded force in his life with her brutal worry. Amias like to think she was one of the few permanent fixtures in his life. Seona was a headstrong, single mother who cared enough to reach out to him when he needed someone the most.

He didn't have to wait long for her to walk down the sidewalk with a bundled baby in her arms. She gave him the biggest smile, stretched an arm around his shoulders—

And gave him the hardest smack to the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"You deserved it, idiot," she huffed. She held out her baby as she snagged the paper bag filled with her pastries. "Did you really think you could sneak back here without a word? Hmph! If I hadn't called, I wouldn't have known!"

Amias poked Aneta's nose and smiled when she made small grabby hands towards his face, pushing and pulling his cheeks around with her gloved, stubby fingers.

"Mi-as!" she exclaimed. Seona nodded and broke off a piece of the cookie to let her daughter hold.

"That's right, baby. That's Amias," she said. "He's also a butt. Can you say butt?"

"Buf?"

"Good job!"

"Mi-as buf!"

"Hey, don't teach her to call me names. You do that enough as it is," he whined. They sat down at one of the tables, and Aneta became increasingly interested in the metal latticework of the surface. Seona took a sippy-cup from her bag and let the little girl grab it and bang it against the edge of the table before turning serious and crossing her arms.

"I thought you'd never come back," she said. Amias averted his gaze and shifted Aneta on his lap. "I think it's god that you're here for some closure, but why now? Did Dr. Naran finally convince you that something needed to change?"

Unlike across the country, it was far colder here. Their breaths came out in puffs of white air and their seats by the outdoor heaters did little good. There were no leaves to count and Amias started to wonder if coming back was really a good idea.

He shrugged.

"She might've given the idea, but I decided it in the end," he answered quietly. "I never really liked purple to begin with."

Seona beamed and licked the raspberry filling off her icy fingers.

"Good."

::

A cloudless night greeted him later on when he slipped out his hotel in a thick hoodie and a bouquet of anemones wrapped in cream-colored paper. The cemetery was as empty as it usually was, and the trees he helped plant in college had grown to where their arms almost reached a quarter of the sky.

"Hello," he whispered to one of the graves. "I'm sorry I'm late. I know how much you loved being on time, but... is ten years too long? I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Amias set down the flowers and took a seat in front of the head stone. He didn't receive an answer, but smiled like he did anyways.

"It's been a long time since I came. I didn't want to come back. I still don't, but I had to didn't I?" he said. "Everyone said it would be for the best. But it's the best for what? I don't feel any different here."

His fingers traced the looping Isabel Corrales carved in the slate.

"I want to go home," he mumbled. He rested his head above the name, hands gripping the edges and eyes pressed against the back of his hands. "But where is that?"

His shoulders dropped.

"Where can I find it?"

The hole in his heart ached, and there was no reply.