Closed Carnations

[Monty Pendleton]

TW: Mentions of death and grief​

It was funny, the tendency humans had to buy each other flowers after they’d passed away. As Monty leaned down to rest another bouquet of pink-and-yellow carnations on the grave, he couldn’t help but wish he’d bought Arvo more flowers when he’d still been around to enjoy them. The thought had simply never crossed his mind, and that was a shame. The old man would have been chuffed to receive some. Still, maybe he was looking down from somewhere now, smiling, a bit tipsy, probably, because being dead was no reason to stop enjoying yourself - maybe his ghost still watched and his spirit still listened, and the flowers brought him joy, even now. Monty liked to think so.

The air was bitterly cold, but the sky was clear and the sun cast long shadows across the cemetery. Monty stood in front of the carnations. It was a very short grave. This fact amused him endlessly, when it wasn’t crushing him. “Oh - I miss you,” he said quietly, his voice soft as the breeze. “You made me so brave.” Bravery, of course, was not a permanent quality. It was a habit, and some people had to practice harder than others. Arvo had been a very brave man. The bravest Monty knew. He would keep that courage alive, somehow. He had to.

 

[Kata Tuuri]

Kata visited Arvo every day.

She didn’t have much else to do with her day since she stopped teaching, and being in that old house all by herself was very upsetting. The kids came by sometimes, talked to her about getting rid of it, but how could she do that when she’d lived so many years there, some of her best years, with him? She couldn’t recreate that, and she couldn’t give it up, not yet. Her boots crunched against the hard grass as she headed to the stones she was so used to sharing a drink with, not surprised to see an old friend. She came every day, so she would have expected to run into him at some point, the men were so close, and even now as she watched him she felt she could still feel that closeness, like a tether that would never truly break. She would never be privy to those private conversations, but she didn’t need to be, she and Arvo had her own.

“I used to tell him he should’ve planted himself in the garden, the way he loved blooms,” she murmured, taking to her knees beside the stone. “He said flowers were too soft for a goblin-blooded old curmudgeon. But he kept every one you gave him, Monty. Pressed them in books. Even the wilting ones.” she was sure they were all still in the library, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to set foot in it yet.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty startled, though he wasn’t truly surprised to see Kata here. “Oh,” he said. He didn’t even remember buying Arvo flowers, and yet his friend had kept them, pressed them. That said a lot about both of them, Monty thought. “I didn’t buy him very many. I was just thinking about that - what a shame it was. Hello, by the way.” He wondered how often Kata came. It was the first time they had run into each other here. Monty visited her house often, but they didn’t always talk about Arvo. “Sorry. Did you want me to leave you?”

 

[Kata Tuuri]

Kata didn’t move to stand. She remained kneeled at the stone, her gloved hand brushing some of the debris from the world off of the engraved name. She turned to look up at Monty with a vague smile, not like the ones she used to have for him, a bit duller than that, but no less sincere. “You would say that,” she whispered, shaking her head, “as if you could ever be unwelcome here.” She turned back to look and pulled her flask out from under her robes, tossing her head back with a gulp, the fire whisky burning down her throat. “I don’t mind sharing him, he never was just mine.” Arvo had always largely belonged to the world, it was simply a truth no one could ever deny. Arvo had a lot of love for a lot of people and that hadn’t changed when he’d left them, it had only transformed into something else. “Anyway, he’d complain if we didn’t make a fuss over him together.” There was no bitterness, just the quiet sort of ache that had long settled into her bones. Familiar. Bearable, today. “And you’re wrong, you know. You bought him more than flowers. You brought him joy. Laughter. Arguments he enjoyed losing. That ridiculous letter from your secret drunken moments.” Ah, how she had loved them both terribly. “He kept all of it. And you. So no, Monty - stay, if you like. Talk with us awhile. Tell me something good.”​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty knelt down beside Kata. The grass was wet, his knees freezing, but he stayed there, gently touching her shoulder, hoping his presence brought her some comfort. For a while he was quiet, thinking of all those silly arguments, the evenings they'd laughed until they'd fallen on the floor, that ridiculous apology letter - Monty smiled as he recalled the dreadful hangover that had induced it. But what could he talk about that was good? His mind supplied him at once with the answer, but he was quiet for a few seconds longer, unsure whether to say it. Would Kata want to know? Would she understand?

Of course she would.

"Do you remember that afternoon I sneaked him off to the park?" he said. "I thought it might be the last time we got to speak in private, and I... I had to tell him something. For a very long time, I wasn't sure - and I latched onto that, I think, because I wasn't ready. But in my heart, I knew. Knew that I'm gay." He squeezed Kata's shoulder, then let go. "Arvo was the first person I told. Of course, he did what he always did. He said something silly. Made me laugh. And I just..." Emotion suddenly seized him, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "I needed that. I needed him to do that. Smug little so-and-so always knew what to say, didn't he? Goodness, he'd be loving this. Anyway, he was kind. He was kind, and nothing changed, and now I'm here, telling you, and I'm so happy, Kata. It's extraordinary. I feel alive. I feel like myself for the very first time. And it seems strange, perhaps, but I owe that to him."

Monty turned his face up to the cloudless sky, tears rolling down both cheeks. "We've lost so many people, but we still have love. We still have this - the sun, and the trees, and birds, and music - and it's not always enough, I know, some days it's not nearly enough - but I sit here, and I feel it, and it's beautiful." He looked at Kata, his eyes and heart full of fondness, and offered her his hand. "We have friendship. I'm here. I'm staying with you. That's a good thing, I hope."

 

[Kata Tuuri]

It was easy to listen to Monty, open and still, it always had been - like the world could pause for him. Perhaps that was how Arvo felt, she knew he never felt so old when he was with him and she loved the man for that, half his age and still one of the closest people to him. It never failed to make her ache in a deep way, but a loving one. She was glad he had that, especially towards the end. Arvo was simply a man who had more life than most, and that it had ended was incredibly sad, but it had come at a time she thought it was always going to, in a moment where he felt like he’d completed everything he needed to. Her eyes didn’t leave Arvo’s name, until Monty said he was happy, and then her eyes found him, and she felt her face break into a smile.

She reached for his hand with both of hers and brought it to her mouth to kiss him softly on the back of the hand. They were cold, it was cold, but she didn’t feel it really, not in this moment. She knew what kind of feeling Monty must have had to say it, and for him to do so with her so casually meant something deep to her. She squeezed his hand tightly grounding herself and perhaps grounding him. “I do remember,” she said softly, nodding. “He told me about that day. Not what you said - just that it was important. That something precious had been shared.” She felt her voice catch in her throat, but she pressed forward. “He was always so proud of you, you know he wasn’t always very big on sentimentality, but it was always there, in the subtle ways, saying your name was always a big deal to him, it always meant something good was happening.” Maybe it was just that Monty was coming to visit, but she couldn’t recall a single bad memory that involved the man kneeling with her. If any existed, she was glad she forgot them.

“And I’m proud of you too, for taking hold of life and letting it lead you to something good,” She patted his hand and shook her head. “I can not tell you how much your happiness means to me, and how much it would mean to him. That was all we ever wanted for you, you know, it’s all anyone ever wants for you, and you deserve it so, so much, it’s a gift, please hold onto that.” She poured the whisky over the flowers, and then tucked the flask back into her robes. “You were always a good thing, Montgomery.”​