Later, the Flowers Bloomed, Not for You

The Portuguese egg tarts I'd stood in line forty minutes to buy. I only went to wash my hands, and by the time I came back all four custard centers were gone.

All that was left was a box of crumbling pastry shells.

Garry Dickerson handed Doreen Simmons a napkin and explained it like it was nothing.

"Doreen ate the centers. I saved the shells for you."

I looked at the wreckage.

"Garry, I stood in that line for forty minutes."

He frowned at me.

"They're just egg tarts. Do you really have to make a thing of it?"

Something closed up in my throat and I couldn't speak.

These three years, it felt like it was always like this.

As long as Doreen was there, the best of everything always went to her first.

Breakfast sandwiches, he'd peel out the filling for Doreen and leave me the dry bread.

Buy-one-get-one lattes, the free one went to Doreen too, and if I wanted one I paid for it myself.

Every time I got upset, Garry would hold me and smooth it over.

"Doreen's your best friend. She's practically family to you."

"If I'm nice to her, it's so that when the two of us fight down the road, she'll put in a good word for me. What's wrong with that?"

Back then, I actually thought he had a point.

Doreen saw I'd gone quiet and set down her spoon.

"Tamara Coleman, don't be upset. How about I go buy you a few more right now?"

Garry grabbed her wrist at once, his tone put out.

"Buy what? She's always like this. Everything has to be measured out down to the last crumb."

Watching the two of them play off each other, I suddenly felt completely done.

I pushed my chair back and stood up and headed for the door.

Since I was never going to be the one who got favored.

Then I didn't want this love that was someone else's leftovers either.

...

I'd barely stepped out of the restaurant when Garry came after me.

"Tamara, that's enough."

"Doreen just said the centers looked good, so I gave them to her. That's all."

Doreen followed behind, holding my jacket, looking a little lost.

"I didn't know you wanted them. If it really bothers you, I just won't eat them next time."

When I didn't respond, Garry's frown deepened.

"She's already said all that. What more do you want?"

My steps slowed.

I was the one who'd bought the egg tarts.

And somehow, in the end, it looked like I was the one forcing some terrible injustice on Doreen.

It's not that I wasn't willing to give way to her.

In all the years we'd known each other, I'd never once kept score with her.

I just couldn't understand it.

I was Garry's girlfriend.

So why, every time there were two choices, was I always the one left over?

We'd walked a little way when Garry suddenly called out.

"Wait a second."

I stopped too.

He stared at Doreen's foot for a couple of seconds and frowned.

"Your shoe's rubbing you raw. Why didn't you say something?"

Doreen looked down and only then noticed her heel had gone red.

"It's fine. It'll be okay in a bit."

Garry turned and went to the convenience store next door for a box of bandages.

When he came back, he crouched right down in front of Doreen.

"I told you not to wear new shoes for so long. Now they've torn you up and it'll hurt for days."

Doreen braced a hand on his shoulder and lifted her foot obediently.

"Okay, okay, Mr. Fusspot."

They were still talking. I left first.

It wasn't until the stairs down into the subway that my own heel gave a sharp sting.

I looked down and realized it had rubbed raw at some point too.

I dug around in my bag for ages and couldn't find a single bandage.

In the end I could only pull out a tissue and tuck it against my heel.

Two steps later the tissue slipped out again.

I bent down and stuffed it back in.

Suddenly I felt tired.

When I woke the next day, Garry had sent me several messages.

"Don't work late tonight. I booked that restaurant you've been wanting to try."

Only then did I remember. Today was our third anniversary.

The phone buzzed again.

"Yesterday was my fault."

"I'll wait downstairs at your office tonight. Let's have a real talk."

My finger hovered over the delete button for a moment.

In the end, I still replied, "Okay."

When I got off work, Garry was already waiting downstairs.

I'd just walked up when the passenger window rolled down.

Doreen smiled and waved at me.

"Tamara."

My steps froze.

"She's coming too?"

Garry gave a casual little grunt, his expression easy.

"She was in a bad mood today, so I brought her along."

When I didn't move, he frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just one more person at dinner."

"Weren't you always saying three's more fun?"

For the rest of the meal, Garry and Doreen talked and laughed.

From embarrassing stories back in college to a movie they'd watched together a few days ago.

I sat across from them and couldn't get a single word in.

The phone buzzed. It was a message from my mom.

"Tamara, that thing I mentioned before, about coming home to build your career here. Have you decided?"

I glanced at the two of them across the table and lowered my head to reply.

"Mom, I'm coming home."

The next afternoon, I went over to Garry's place to get my things.

Three years had left odds and ends scattered all over the apartment, and this was a good chance to clear them out in one go.

The moment I pushed the door open, I heard Doreen laughing.

Garry was standing behind her, head bent, fastening a necklace at her nape.

"Why aren't you wearing the one I gave you?"

Doreen touched the necklace at her throat.

"That one's too expensive. I'm scared I'll lose it."

Garry laughed.

"I gave it to you so you'd wear it. If you lose it, I'll just buy you another."

Doreen was about to say something when she caught sight of me in the entryway out of the corner of her eye, and her voice cut off.

"Tamara?"

"Don't get the wrong idea. Garry just picked up the necklace for me while he was away on a business trip the other day."

He gave a lazy hum.

"She'd been going on about it for ages. I happened to come across one."

I frowned.

"That trip you took, didn't you say you were too busy to even find time to bring me back anything?"

Garry's expression stalled for a second.

I dropped the necklace and turned to Doreen instead.

"What are you doing here?"

Doreen rubbed her nose.

"My phone died. I was passing by, so I came up to charge it for a bit."

I glanced at the phone lying on the coffee table.

"Doesn't your place back onto the complex right next door?"

Before Doreen could get a word out, Garry cut in.

"Don't give her a hard time. I'm the one who asked her over."

"There's a company celebration dinner tonight, and we can each bring a plus-one. You hate that kind of thing, so I asked Doreen to come with me."

The two of them went right on hashing out the plans for the evening.

Standing in the entryway, I suddenly remembered something.

Back when Garry and I first started dating, Doreen rarely got mixed up in our business at all.

I stood there, thinking back to those early days with Garry.

I was always afraid of leaving Doreen out.

I'd invite her along to meals, buy an extra ticket whenever we went to a movie.

At first Garry hadn't liked it.

"Why do you always drag her along on our dates?"

Back then I'd just laugh and loop my arm through Doreen's.

"She's my best friend. What's the harm?"

Later, Garry stopped complaining.

Later still, even when I said nothing, he'd be the one asking whether Doreen was coming.

I don't know when it started.

The place I had cleared out for her with my own hands.

Until in the end there was barely any room left for me to stand.

At that thought, I suddenly lost any desire to keep asking.

"You two go ahead."

Garry looked up at me, and he seemed a little surprised.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Garry's mother.

"Tamara, don't forget to come back this weekend for dinner with Garry."

"His father says it's about time we sat down and talked about the two of you getting married."

The next morning at work, I handed in my resignation.

The job back home wasn't settled yet, but the loose ends here had to be tied off first.

I was sorting through my files when I remembered an important document I'd left in Garry's car.

At noon, Garry had the front desk pass me the car keys.

During the lunch break, I went down to the underground parking garage.

The document was wedged at the very bottom of the passenger-side glove compartment. As I pulled it out, a bank statement slid loose and dropped by my foot.

I meant to just stuff it back in, but then I saw Doreen's name in the cardholder line.

Below that, six straight months of charges.

Every single one billed to Garry.

I stared at that statement for a long time, then called Garry outright.

"Come down here."

Ten minutes later, he showed up in the garage.

I held out the statement.

"What is this?"

Garry read the name on it, and his expression shifted a little.

My fingers tightened around it.

"Doreen's bills for the past six months. Why are you the one paying them?"

Garry was quiet for two seconds.

"She forgot to pay a few times before, so I just set up autopay for her while I was at it."

I froze.

"So for six months, you've been the one covering her?"

"She transfers the money back to me."

His tone was getting more and more impatient.

"It's just doing her a favor. Do you have to make everything so complicated?"

"Then why did you never tell me?"

Garry glanced at me like the question made no sense at all.

"What's there to say about something like this? Her income isn't steady. Sometimes she's short on cash, so I cover her for the time being."

I looked back down at the statement.

The latest charge was over twenty thousand in luxury goods.

"You call that being short on cash?"

Garry's face went dark.

"Tamara, since when do you get to control what Doreen spends her money on?"

He pulled the statement out of my hand.

"We're just dating."

"It's my own money. Do I need to report every last cent to you?"

Just dating. The words circled around in my head.

So in Garry's eyes, three years came to no more than that.

My phone lit up with a message from HR right then, asking when I could finish the resignation paperwork.

I looked down and sent back a date.

When I looked up again, Garry was already far down the lot.

That weekend was Garry's mother's birthday, and I'd promised I'd go.

When I got there, Doreen was already sitting in the living room, chatting with Muriel Dickerson.

After the meal, Muriel smiled and called everyone over for a photo.

I'd just walked over when Garry handed me his phone.

"Tamara, you take it. You take nice photos."

Doreen was already standing at his side.

Muriel had one arm looped through hers and one hand on Garry, beaming.

Once the cake was cut, Muriel brought up marriage again.

"It's been three years for the two of you. Time you settled things."

I was about to speak, but Garry answered first.

"Mom, don't push her on this."

"Tamara's been worn out at work lately. Let's talk about it once she's had time to think."

Muriel turned and smiled at Doreen.

"Oh, that reminds me, Doreen. What color would you like for your room?"

My chopsticks stopped dead over the dish.

"What room?"

Only then did Muriel sense something was off, and she hurriedly handed me the floor plan from the coffee table.

"This is your wedding home. Garry said Doreen doesn't want to get married anyway, so we might as well keep a room for her."

I looked down.

The master bedroom had been circled again in red pen.

Two words were written beside it.

Doreen Simmons.

Garry pulled me aside.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Doreen's family neighborhood is getting a relocation buyout soon, and the compensation has something to do with marriage."

"She's not planning to get married anyway, so I figured I'd register with her first, then divorce once it's all settled."

My mind went blank for a few seconds.

"What did you say?"

Garry frowned.

"I mean, Doreen isn't planning to marry anyone, so the three of us can just live together."

He handed me his phone.

He must have been afraid I wouldn't believe him, because he'd even saved the relocation policy in advance.

Further down was their registration appointment.

The date was set for next month.

The marriage medical exam, the documents, everything needed to get legally married, all listed out item by item.

They'd even worked out the living arrangements.

Doreen would take the master bedroom, and the two of us would take the second one.

Meals together on ordinary days. For the holidays, they'd go back to the Dickerson family together, and I'd go to my own.

I read down the list, one line at a time.

And I suddenly thought of what Garry had said on our third anniversary.

"It's livelier with three people."

So it turned out, from that moment on.

The future he wanted had never been just his and mine.

Seeing that I still hadn't said anything, Doreen looked uncomfortable.

"Tamara, if you don't agree, then let's just drop it."

Garry frowned at once.

"Drop what?"

He turned to look at me, as if it were all perfectly obvious.

"It's just a registration, it's not like we're really getting married."

"You and I still date the way we always have. What's the harm?"

Afraid I still couldn't wrap my head around it, Garry added another line.

"Besides, Doreen won't marry anyone later, and she doesn't plan on having kids."

"When we're old, our kids can look after all three of us, can't they?"

Doreen paused, then laughed and shoved his shoulder.

"Who said I want your kids taking care of me."

Garry laughed too.

"What's the big deal? We're all family anyway."

"Family..."

"Then what am I?"

Garry didn't even have to think.

"You're my girlfriend, of course."

I suddenly laughed.

So the wife could be Doreen.

The home could have a place for Doreen.

They'd even divided up the life of my future children for me.

The only thing left for me was one word. Girlfriend.

I nodded.

"Fine."

"Then starting today, I'm not that either."

Garry froze.

I looked at him and said it word by word.

"Garry, we're breaking up."

I turned and left.

Garry stayed where he was, his face dark.

Doreen said quietly,

"Maybe we should just forget the registration."

"Forget what."

He tugged irritably at his collar.

"Tamara's just angry right now. She'll get over it in a couple of days."

......

The next day, he went to where I lived.

A few sealed cardboard boxes sat at the door, and the landlord was changing the lock.

"You're looking for Tamara?"

"She already gave up the lease. Said she went back to her hometown, and she's never coming back."

The look on Garry's face froze in an instant.