Field Of Dreams (A.k.a Marigolds)

The house is pristine. The white couches are artfully decorated with just the right amount of throw pillows. The curtains are drawn open, leaving the perfect amount of natural light in their wake. I can even see my reflection in the shiny tiled floors.

I walk through the living room, observing the occasional picture frame until I stop in front of the marble fireplace where the largest frame is perched on the center of the mantle; the picture shows a woman donning her white dress, a man gazing at her fondly. It makes me want to-

The sound of someone clearing their throat has me turning around abruptly. Her. There is not a single blond hair out of place. Her dress hugs her body, illustrating what great shape she’s in. Her diamond ring glints proudly in the light.

“Your dad should be home in about an hour. He’s running a little late. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe you could start unpacking?” questions Lydia. My step mother and the person my dad cheated on my mom with. She was also one of my seventh grade teachers, but maybe I’ll get into that later.

“I’m fine with unpacking. Alone.” There’s a sharp edge to my tone as I take my suitcase and trudge up the large staircase. My room is to the right at the far end of the hallway. It’s the farthest away from their room which is probably a good thing.

The room is open and airy. A queen size bed with white bedding and blue pillows sits in the middle of the room. Two separate window sills cover the wall on each side of the bed, and a white dresser covers the adjacent wall. The room is so nice, it almost makes me more annoyed. Where was this nice house when my mom was married to my dad?

I leave my suitcase near the door and practically trust fall onto the bed, sighing into the thick comforter. Dang, this comforter could rival the comforters at the Hilton. Instead of unpacking, I lay on the bed. If I put my stuff away, I’ll actually have to come to terms with the situation I’m in.

When my mom got promoted last year, she also took on the responsibility of having to take more business trips. She’s gone on several, most only lasting a few days. Except now my mom has been sent on a month-long trip (work excursion as she likes to call it). Normally, I would just stay home, my neighbor checking in on me occasionally. But both of my parents agreed (which is weird because they never agree) that I couldn’t stay home alone for a whole month. Now I’m stuck living with my dad and his new wife. How fun!

The ping of my phone jerks me out of my daze.

Bestie: hey b how r u

Bethany: oh you know, just here with little miss affair

Bestie: awww I’m so sorry, you can sleep over as soon as I come back from Bora Bora

Bethany: girl that’s in three weeks :(

Bestie: sorryyyyy

I’m about to reply with something sarcastic when I hear the groan of the garage door, signifying my dad's home. I’ve seen him numerous times since my parents separated, but it still isn’t any easier. He hurt my mom. I know I’ll have to greet him sooner or later, so I suck it up and pad downstairs, anxiety tickling my insides. I wince as I hear the shuffling of shoes on the tiled floor and the smack of a kiss. As I turn to the kitchen, I see him. He’s talking to Lydia. She makes a feminine humph sound, and he turns around.

“Bethany!” he says. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He comes over and pulls me in for an awkward hug which I barely return.

“Hi,” I murmur while Lydia looks back and forth between the two of us. The three of us stand there awkwardly before Lydia chimes in.

“Dinner’s ready if you guys want to eat.” We both nod in agreement, and I head over to the table while Lydia gets the food.

Dinner was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I expected. They ask me about the past school year and my plans for summer. Dad informs me about his latest work expenditures, and Lydia talks about what her teaching schedule is like now that she co-teaches with someone else. When I’m about to go hit the hay, my dad stops me by the stairs.

“I'm really glad you're here,” he says simply before making his way back to the kitchen, leaving me in the hallway.

“Thanks,” I mumble as I head back to my room. Yet, I can't help but feel happy which I immediately feel guilty for. Truth is, I want to forgive my father. I’m sick of holding grudges. Things are never gonna go back to how they were.

My mom calls me as I reach my room.

“Hi, mama,” I say as I grab my toiletries from my suitcase.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I just had dinner with dad and Lydia. It was ok.”

“That’s good. I want you guys to get along truly. The past is the past.” Sincerity rings in her words as they hit me right in the chest.

“It’s hard,” I whisper.

“I know, but he’s your father, and despite what he did, I wasn’t the best wife either.” She doesn’t say anything for a beat. “Just try and forgive him. You don’t want to hold a grudge against your father for your whole life. Please do this for me.”

“Ok.” We talk for a bit about how her work is going and end the phone call. After finishing my nighttime routine, I sink into the bed and drift off to sleep.

I jerk up confused at 4am only to remember I’m at my father’s house. After tossing and turning for 2 hours, I decide that I’m not going to fall back asleep. Feeling restless, I put on some workout clothes and my running shoes.

Sneaking downstairs, I pad to the kitchen to get some water when I hear someone fiddling with the sink. Before I can make my escape, my dad notices me. He’s wearing navy athletic shorts and a grey top.

“Bethany, hi. I was just getting ready for my morning run,” he states.

“Me too,” I respond as I wring out my hands.

“I thought you hated running,” he remarks amused. “I always tried to get you to run with me when you were younger.”

“I guess it grew on me,” I respond as he motions to the cabinet with the reusable water bottles, and I fill one up.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll show you my favorite running spot.” Unable to say no, I nod in agreement. We stretch outside for a little bit, and I put in my AirPods. He motions for me to follow him as we start running. We go at an easy pace, so I don’t have too much trouble keeping up with him.

Our feet pound on the pavement, and our breaths sync up until we're both moving in perfect harmony. I feel relaxed as I follow him to where he is leading me and zone out as I listen to my music. Soon, we’re heading down a concrete path that is shaded by large oaks and deep green foliage. I’m so intrigued by the large trees, I don’t even notice that we have arrived somewhere.

The dark path leads out to an immense expanse. We’re in a large flower field surrounded by thousands upon thousands of marigolds: yellow, orange, and even a sprinkling of red. I gasp delightedly as I turn, the sunrise painting everything with a golden tint.

“Marigolds,” I breathe as I turn to face my dad who's looking at me, a smile perched on his face.

“I come here every morning. This field has always reminded me of you.” His words take a seat in my heart, and my mom’s words from last night come back to me. Like he’s reading my mind, he suggests that we should talk. I oblige, and he leads me to an old bench that faces the glorious field.

“I’ve handled this whole situation terribly. The last three years. I’m a grown man for crying out loud!” He puts his elbows on his knees and covers his eyes with his hands. Tears prick my eyes, but I don’t want to respond until he’s finished.

“When I met Lydia at your parent teacher conference, it was like being hit by a truck. I never expected to feel that way about anyone, and I felt so guilty about it. I didn’t know how I could feel that amount of love for anyone, well except for you of course. We started bumping into each other randomly, and it didn’t feel like a coincidence. I tried to stay away from Lydia. I really did. I told your mom about my feelings almost right away.” Huh. This is sure news to me.

“I thought mom didn’t know about Lydia until two years ago.” He looks up at me with a pained expression in his eyes. Why would mom lie to me about this?

“I wanted to be honest with her. That’s what marriage should be about. She was obviously hurt, but splitting up didn’t seem right at the time for multiple reasons. We didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t want to hurt you, and your mom didn’t want you to think any less of her for staying with me. Eventually, things just fizzled out,” he says.

“Huh.” That’s all I can say as I process the information. The potent scent of the marigolds hits my nostrils as the new information intermingles with what I thought I knew. He takes my hands with his and his eyes shine with truthfulness.

“I’m so sorry about everything, Bethany. We should have told you sooner, and I shouldn’t have taken this long to apologize. Cheating on your mother was not the right thing, but I don't regret that things ended between your mother and I. I need you to understand that. But I will regret what went down between the two of us.” Tears wells up in my eyes. Everything is overwhelming: the new information, the beautiful marigolds, and my need to forgive him.

A blow out an unsteady breath.

“I forgive you, but on one condition; you and mom will be honest with me from now on.” He wraps his arms around me, whispering yes, and I snuggle into his chest like I’m four years old again. Our relationship will never be how it once was, but I'm glad that we could salvage some of it. Forgiveness is like a marigold: it's beautiful and something to cherish.

"We can even do anything you want for the rest of the summer. I can take off work. We can even plant a marigold garden in our backyard,” he pleads as I chuckle.

“Yeah, a marigold garden sounds perfect.”