The Lily (The Flowering Series Book 1)

Chapter One

This day was special. I did not know why or how but somewhere deep inside I felt my world shift. It was as though God decided to create a perfect blue sky with a warm breeze insisting that everyone stop, enjoy and soak in the miracle that surrounds us. I sat on my deck in awe of the beauty and simple delights right in front of me.

It hit me then and my shoulders began to sag as I realized that I had been unaware of the beauty steps from my own back door. For far too long something was holding my happiness back. I had been going through the motions living in an emotional bubble protected by my inability to bear my heart to the masses. The beauty was having a strange yet addicting effect slowly drawing me in from the cold.

Life had been passing me by and I was merely being a spectator where matters of the heart were concerned. My daily life was rock solid. I had a great son and my dream job. Beyond that I was in a perpetual cycle of leftover grief and fear.

My friends had always been quick to jump in with accolades when my thought process started down this painful path. To hear them talk I was the best friend anyone could ever ask for; I was supportive, dedicated and never betrayed anyone’s trust.

While I thought they were a bit over the top in their assessment, I will admit that I knew distrust on a basic level and how violating it felt to be discredited by the one person you love and that should always love you in return. No one should ever have to question whether their parents love them.

After several deep-cleansing breaths I let myself revel in the knowledge of where my newfound appreciation of the sunshine was coming from. His name was Damon and although I had hired him to work on my home, I was finding out that his presence in my life was much more significant.

However, I had been so locked up in the world I built up around me it had never occurred to me that Damon might also be able to heal my wounded heart. Luckily for me fate had already been in motion.

In October I decided to build an addition onto my house in upstate New York. I needed to accommodate my growing teenage son Joshua and adapt to the reality that my newly heartbroken mother was coming to live with us.

When I had received the call from my mother that my father had finally shown his true heartless colors and left her, I felt infinitely trapped. My relationship with my family had always been tumultuous at best but I knew that I did not have it in me to turn my mother away. Even though I came from callous roots I made it a point in my life to grow in the opposite direction.

My parents were the kind of parents that sent you to therapy for life and then could never understand why no one visited them.  They were the type who knew how to get what they wanted in life and were not afraid to use their children in the process. I am not sure how their marriage survived the fifty years of torture they put each other through but it had finally come to an end.

I am quite sure that there could be any number of reasons for my father to leave, some of which might even have some merit. Yet I would bet money that the straw that broke the camel’s back occurred last September.

September 11
th
was a hard time for all Americans and especially those who had family and friends lost or missing in the confusion. My older sister lives in New York City and following the attack no one could find or get a hold of Maddie. It turned out to just be a scare but my entire family had been bruised by the event. You would think we might grow closer following such a devastating time, but in the dysfunctional group of people I biologically called family it just drove a larger wedge between us.

However, I knew myself and I knew that in my heart of hearts I would regret not reaching out and taking my mother in. I also had this bad habit of taking in every wounded animal I encountered, even manipulative mothers.  My friends called it the ‘Underdog’ syndrome because every time I had a chance I fought for the mistreated and underrated.

To be honest, I was deathly afraid what inviting her into my home would mean for my psyche. The CIA manipulation training had nothing on my mother. She could convince the Pope that she was a genuine saint while setting St. Peter’s on fire. It seems like a gross exaggeration but when you grew up feeling as if you were only on this planet to be at your mother’s every beck and call you might feel a little jaded too.

When I was eight, my baby sister was born with a tumor in her breastbone. After what seemed like millions of trips to and from the doctor’s office my mother decided to take her to a Minnesota hospital that specialized in children’s cancer treatment.

I wish I could say I was old enough to comprehend what was going on but I did not know that they day my mother left she would stop being my mother. I was left alone with my older sister, brother and a father who cared little about our safety or whether our bellies were full.

My mother stayed away for almost six months leaving me and my sister to completely fend for ourselves, searching out food and care with neighbors and friends when we fell ill. It was a hardening experience and I was forced to become an adult long before my time.

I made the conscious decision at the tender age of eight to never become a mother that chooses one child over the other. The pain and suffering my mother’s actions caused would always haunt me.

To make matters worse we learned over the following year that my mother had an affair while she was away and my sister might never have been sick at all. She always loved Molly different than the rest of us and I often wondered if she was illegitimate.

Molly was the apple of my mother’s eye and I struggled with feelings of inadequacy. I now know that Molly was completely dependent on our mother and never found a way to stand up for herself. On the other hand I sought out every which way to strengthen my independence.

My stomach clenched with tension as I began to think about what it would be like to live under the same roof as my mother again and this time without the controlling nature of my father. I had never seen her alone and I honestly had no idea what to expect and that was what made it such a scary proposition.

I stood up and looked out over my neighborhood. My house was warm and welcoming and many of my neighbors saw fit to invite themselves over for impromptu parties and cook outs. I was glad they felt comfortable here and was frankly relieved that they brought the party to me.

I was a homebody and have always felt the need to be in a place that gave the feeling of an old sweater. It had been a long time since I immersed myself in the social world and maybe it was time to change that.

I gazed up at the addition admiring the work. My heart skipped a beat as I saw Damon through the windows helping to put the finishing touches on my new master bedroom. I had decided to give the ground floor guest bedroom to my mother and moved Joshua into my old master bedroom. The plan then was for me to have the entire new addition as my master bedroom with en suite bath.

When I had been getting estimates for the addition I clearly remember meeting Damon for the first time.  He hung on every word I said, always looking me directly in the eye, which caused tingling in parts of my body that I had buried a long time ago. I was nervous for the first time in more years than I care to remember. Little did I know that thirty-minute meeting would change my life.

After hiring Damon for the job I finally got over my fear of the unknown and we became fast friends. On the surface you would have thought we were polar opposites. I went to some of the finest schools money could buy and he had very little in the way of formal education but a wealth of creative talent.

Yet when you dug down deeper we were two halves of a whole. Which honestly scared me to death. Damon was not someone I would normally consider as “my type” if I ever had one to begin with. He was rugged and exuded a sense of masculinity that never failed to take me by surprise. Yet in the very next minute he could be sensitive and sincere with a spirit of freedom and adventure.

I took a deep breath because even then I knew I did not have a chance. I was on my way to falling head over heels in love with the complete opposite of the man I gave my heart to many years before.

The world began to grow smaller and the lingering guilt from a love lost tugged on my heart. It was then that I realized that in order to give myself full permission to move forward with Damon, I had to go back and face the past.

It was time, so instead of cocooning inside myself refusing to relive my most painful memory, I pulled my sweater tighter and sat on the porch swing and braced myself for the trip down memory lane.

Chapter 2:

I knew exactly what I did not want and that was to be controlled by anyone or anything. I worked hard through high school staying at the top of my class so that when I graduated I had every opportunity available to me to break away from the dysfunctional merry-go-round my family was on.

As soon as I was old enough to understand how to make a plan I had my life mapped out. Pieces of it changed and adapted over the years but one theme always carried through. Independence was the name of the game and I made sure I paved my way as best I could.

First there would be college of course, then graduate school, which would undoubtedly lead to a great career and my own money. Once my financial independence was in place I would marry someone who loved me for me and not for status or control. My parents had both used money as a weapon in a destructive manner that belittled any small bit of self-esteem I was able to hold onto throughout my childhood.

When I was a child I always believed that depression was just a way of life for most families. It never ceased to amaze me how my parents fought tooth and nail over every little thing that happened. I supposed you could call my adult state of mind PTSD from the war zone that was my childhood.

The war was not just with words or the withholding of love or even the implementation of severe guilt. The war also had fists and I watched for years as my mother took what my father thought was his right to dish out.

There were days when I felt paralyzed by the emotional and physical debilitating family I grew up in. I crafted my entire life plan in my mind on a daily basis as I watched my family pull itself apart piece by piece.

Needless to say when I had the chance to attend an Ivy League school and leave home behind me I jumped at the chance. I always had to work more than my fellow students just to make ends meet but I was free and there is no price tag on that feeling.

College was an amazing time for me. I immediately joined a sorority, which gave me an instant group of incredible friends. Although, I suppose you could say that everything truly changed the day I met Lily Petrillo at freshman orientation.

It was an instant connection and we immediately became best friends, even deciding to room together. Lily had what I so desperately wanted, a loving and supportive family. Lily’s father did very well and she and her two brothers were able to concentrate on their studies during college instead of working.

Even though we came from significantly different family lives Lily and I were inseparable and when a balmy April evening came along our freshman spring semester I could only say yes as Lily begged me to attend a frat party with her and the other girls.

Lily explained that one of her older brothers, Jake, who was the President of the OX Fraternity just as her other brother Ash had been last year, was throwing a Greek Week celebration party. I was tired but I knew that I needed this injection of fun into my life. Even though I had many friends I was still a loner and I needed to begin opening myself up to new opportunities. So like all the girls in the house that evening I spent several hours preparing and hoping to impress the guys at the party enough to make a connection with someone.

After living with Lily for a semester I had learned quite a bit her big brother and to be honest I was excited to finally be meeting Jake. It was not that Ash did not sound also as wonderful, but it was no secret that Jake was the full package. Football star, gorgeous and every girl on campus was vying for his attention.

When we got to the party Lily spotted Jake across the room and we began to make our way over to him. The bodies were so thick that it took over an hour just to make it to his side of the room. When Jake saw us his face lit up smiling at Lily and when he made eye contact with me the rest of the party faded away.