Sometimes just the act of sharing a painful secret can relieve some of the pain.
-unknown
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Who knew what a walk in the park could do for a person? I never knew.
The swing set was always her favorite. She ran full speed from the parking lot to the playground until her little hands grabbed the chains of an empty swing and claimed it as her own. With a beaming smile, that little girl climbed on the swing as best she could, her feet barely touching the ground once fully seated.
"I need a push!"
Her high-pitched, squeaky voice always screamed out the same phrase, barely loud enough for anyone beyond ten paces away to hear her. I always knew what she said. She said the same phrase every time she first hopped on that swing. I didn't need to be within distance to know the phrase she voiced.
"I'm coming, peanut. Give me just a second!"
Nadia abandoned the oversized blanket and cooler in the grass nearby. The park wasn't nearly as crowded today as usual, and while several picnic tables were unoccupied, Nadia always liked to spread out on the grass, claiming being closer to the earth was good for the soul, or something like that. Sarah didn't seem to mind it, always running from the swing set to the blanket and back again several times over during their monthly trip to the park. Time to visit was now limited with the season change upon us, and soon the winter would stop all park visits until spring returned and brought back the warmer temperatures. It was bitter-sweet, knowing this was probably the last park visit for at least six months. A lot can happen in six months, as I've learned.
I stretched my legs out and crossed my ankles, settling in to the bench I always occupied on park visits. It afforded the perfect view of the playground but allowed me enough distance to survey the entire surrounding area discretely. The grassy open fields where families set up picnics, the basketball courts where many young men and women perfected their game, and the running track that circled the park were all in perfect view of my seat. While the bench wouldn't have been my first option for seating, it was simply the best choice. I pretended it was my throne when in reality it was more of a morgue, where a part of me died every time I sat there and watched. Watched Nadia push Sarah higher on the swing, so happy and full of life. Watching Sarah smile a thousand times over as she sailed through the air, free as a bird and fearless. Watching them have lunch on that blanket, just like a mother and daughter should.
"Lauren?"
Just hearing my name stopped the tears that always fell, and when I glanced to my left, the ever curious face of Bo Dennis stared down at me with a questioning glance.
"Bo? Um, hi."
I replied quickly and sat up straight, shifting my body position and swallowing the gulp resting in the back of my throat.
"I thought that was you. I didn't know you came here!"
In typical Bo fashion, she plopped down on the bench next to me, angled to face me and my building emotions. I hesitated looking at her, knowing she would recognize my inner turmoil. And sure enough, she saw it before I even found the ability to lie through my eyes. She saw my pain, my heartbreak, and in that moment, she discovered a side to my private life I had spoken so little of prior. Her hand rested on my shoulder, a definite attempt to comfort me but it only heightened the emotional struggle under the surface.
"Lauren? You okay?"
With three large breaths, I caught myself from tipping over the edge of sadness, finding a plateau of control in an otherwise mountainous terrain of emotions.
"I'll be fine, Bo. So, what brings you to the park?"
I was finally able to look at her. Those chocolate eyes sought out any tiny bit of explanation in mine, but I was determined to hide it all, especially from Bo. The woman who I lusted after from afar, surely did not want to know why I sat in this park, every first Saturday of the month for the past three years. While her eyes searched deep in mine for something, anything to reinforce my words, she apparently found nothing of the sort.
"Well, I came here to clear my head, but suddenly I'm more interested in filling it with information."
"Oh? And why is that?"
I knew better to ask such a question, but it came out so quickly and naturally that I had no choice but to hear out her reply.
"Well, I can tell something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?"
I swallowed as fast as my brow creased, working ten-fold to hide my sadness. I glanced at the playground, where Sarah had since bounced from her swing and was now climbing the sliding board ladder with slow, hesitant steps. She looked nervous, and I was honestly surprised at her bravery. She had stood at the bottom of that ladder for the past four months but never took one step up. Now she was but one step from the top, with Nadia right behind her, providing words of encouragement and a watchful eye over a nervous daughter. I couldn't help but feel proud, seeing her sit carefully at the top of the slide and push off to glide down it. Her smile lit up the entire park in that moment, and I subconsciously made a fist and pumped it once, wanting to celebrate her success. Sarah's hair flowed behind her and that glowing smile all the way to the bottom of the slide, where she slid from metal to dirt, giggling all the way. Nadia circled the slide and scooped Sarah up, praising her courage and smothering her with kisses. I wanted to congratulate her too, but I remained still, unable to move as Bo noticed my intended private celebration of Sarah's success.
"Who is that little girl, Lauren?"
My next gulp didn't stop that rogue tear sliding down my face, but my quick hand swiped it away. My heart hurt. It ached. I thought of the past five years, as Sarah had grown from newborn to toddler to queen of the sliding board. Milestones. That's what days like today were called. These were days that pictures were taken and put in photo albums, just like birthday parties and lost teeth, scrapped knees from falling off a bicycle to painting pictures of animals from the zoo. And just as I figured Nadia would do, she grabbed the camera and snapped dozens of photos as Sarah conquered the sliding board another dozen times. I felt proud of that little girl, all the while more tears escaped, and Bo's gentle hand became a comforting embrace as I buried my face in her shoulder to soften the agony burning me from within.
Her arms held me for the greater part of twenty minutes. My raw emotions soaked her shirt but remained silent otherwise, as I had trained myself to hide the pain so prevalent within. And with the perfect balance of strength and sensitivity, Bo held me and offered minimal comforting words, truly having no idea why I crumbled in her arms, or more so, what the cause. Her undeniable consideration for my current state was evident, and I felt like I would never be able to express my gratitude for her comfort in that moment of weakness. As those twenty minutes gave way to calmer breaths, drier yet puffier eyes, and clearer thoughts, I allowed the warmth of her embrace to ground me and feel connected to something unlike I had felt in years.
Regaining my upright position, I left her comforting embrace and wiped the damp spot I left on her shirt sleeve.
"Sorry about that."
She shifted her eyes to the same place mine were focused: on her shirt, where my tears and eyeliner had mixed to give the appearance of a rather dull gray stain.
"No worries. I may have walls in my house that aren't quite solid, but I do have a washing machine, you know."
My laugh mixed with her laugh, softening the air between us. Her arm now rested carefully along the back of the bench, her fingertips pressed gently against my back. I was grateful for that contact, suppressing another emotional outbreak but still allowing me to feel something, anything, for the first time in years.
I shifted my eyes to Bo's, her worry now gone but an overwhelming passion to care for me, protect me, love me, shining through clearer than any previous night of our shared drunken lustful hookups. Her eyes told me stories, no, full length novels, of her love for me. They told me to speak if I felt like speaking, or sit in silence if I lacked the words to express anything. They echoed a desire to take me home and make love to me, as much as they burned for a passionate encounter the minute we hopped in the back of a cab. Here Bo sat, spilling the depths of her emotions with just a single glance, only as I sat here hiding my past like it was the plague. Yet the truth was that my past was not a plague, but more of a virus that lived in my system and never left. It was the haunting memories of things I could not escape but was forced to live with every single day.
For years, I wanted Bo to love me. I wanted Bo to look at me like she did in that moment. But knowing that she knew nothing of my past, or what was truly contained inside me, I suddenly felt nervous that Bo Dennis loved a woman she really knew nothing about. Sure, she knew the basics of me: I was a doctor, a scientist, a woman who stuck to her charts and graphs and plans and schematics. She even knew I was kind, caring, devoted, and determined. Yet beyond those superficial traits, my past to her was a mystery. Yes, I wanted Bo to love me, but I needed her to love me, Lauren Lewis, for all that I was, not just who I let her see. And so as I stared in to those brown eyes and saw that gentle smile on her face, I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted to do.
I grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet. Lacing her fingers with mine, I took the lead on the track circling the distance of the park and together, we walked. One lap turned to two, turned to five, turned to an uncertain number as I blurted out my past in a thousand fragments of knowledge and heartbreak that I surely felt my honesty would send her scrambling for the closest escape. I told her of my love for Nadia all those years ago, and our solid plans for starting a family. I told her of the hours spent discussing children, and our mutual desires to have a baby. I told her of the carefully scheduled plans, the investment to secure the right donor, and the calendar to make it happen just like we planned. And then I told Bo about how the best laid plans don't always happen just like we want, for as I walked in the door all those years ago from a late hospital shift, finding Nadia in bed with another woman shattered my life. It shattered those dreams, it shattered those plans, and it almost shattered my very soul.
I explained how Nadia left me, and started a family with another woman. I told Bo how Nadia had our baby with some no-name stranger whose face had haunted me for years. Speaking it was grueling, and explaining that Sarah, who just conquered that sliding board, was the girl I thought would have been my daughter, brought forth a realization that watching this child from afar would never heal me. It would never heal the pain I felt at losing what I thought would be the perfect family. It would never diminish my anger at Nadia for her infidelity and her ease to move on from our relationship. Hand in hand, Bo and I walked for hours upon hours as I spilled all my secrets. Secrets I held for so long that I sometimes doubted their validity in my very own mind.
I never found comfort in sharing my secrets. I still didn't find comfort in it, but I did find a weightlessness that came with unloading this pain and feeling Bo tighten her grip of my hand when I said things like "I always wanted a daughter, and Sarah should have been it" or "I don't know if anyone will really love me for who I am, because no one has ever really known the true me since I struggle to share my past". While the difficulty of expressing such hidden pieces of me cannot be understated, the value of Bo's acceptance greatly outshined the darkest clouds of my past.
Our conversation went so well that I never saw Nadia pack up the blanket and cooler. I never saw Nadia put Sarah safely in the car and leave the park. I knew it would be six months before they returned, where I could watch from the shadows and just appreciate the family that should have been mine. Yet for the first time since I saw Nadia in bed with that other woman, I knew that they were not my family. I knew that it was her family, and I had decades ahead of me to create my own. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but it suddenly felt attainable, which is more than I could ever say I felt before.
As daylight began to fade, Bo led me out of the park to the street, where she hailed a cab and directed the driver to my home. I never let her hand out of mine during that drive, finding more comfort in her innocent touch than I ever thought possible. The drive was short and we settled the fare before walking to my doorstep, still hand in hand. My emotional distress had faded dramatically throughout the day, finding more reasons to smile and laugh than frown and cry. It wasn't until we were inside that we stopped holding hands, when Bo took to calling a nearby takeout restaurant for stir fry delivery. We settled comfortably on the sofa to wait for our food to arrive, stretching out our over-walked legs as we propped them on the coffee table and sipped a glass of wine as we continued to talk.
Before, during and after our meal, Bo shared private stories of her past with me. It felt similar to reading a novel tucked away on a corner library shelf: one that not many were aware of but when found, became an instant favorite that was read cover to cover. I marveled at her stories, about her adoptive parents, her real parents, her dreams and her fears. At some point during our night, I realized that Bo hid just as many secrets as I. Different yes, but weighted just the same, her secrets became our shared stories, just as mine had. My hand had found a way in to her again, relaxing with just the comfort of her touch as the hours ticked by, giving way to the late night.
We fought sleep for the past hour but lacked further ability to stay awake any longer. Exactly two am and I led Bo upstairs. Not even bothering to turn on lights, I kept my hand tightly connected to Bo's as we walked through the dark hallway and equally as dark bedroom. I stripped my clothes off to just my panties, while Bo had all but fallen in to bed mostly dressed as she struggled to discard her tight pants. My offer of a t-shirt never received a reply, as Bo crawled under the blankets wearing nothing but her boy shorts. I slid next to her, quickly feeling a protective arm envelop me as I shifted my body to a comfortable position. Yes, I could have easily found the energy and kept awake enough to explore everything that Bo Dennis had revealed in the dark under my blankets, but with an unspoken agreement, Bo and I cuddled together and found comfort in the arms of one another as we felt sleep begin to overcome us. It was time for our emotional selves to rest and heal from such a vigorous day.
"Bo?"
I whispered her name with a very sleepy voice, barely audible even in the silence of night.
"Yes?"
"I know it was really so much more, but thank you for that walk in the park today."
She gently kissed my cheek, certainly igniting parts of me that wanted to battle the exhaustion shutting down my body and my mind.
"You're welcome, Lauren. And just for the record, I will walk in the park with you any day, every day."
Who knew what a walk in the park could truly do for a person? I never knew. Not until then anyway. It would be six months until Nadia took Sarah to the park again. But when six months passed, I never went back to that park. No, in six months, Bo and I went to a different park. And about a year after that, Bo and I went to yet another park with our son, Ethan. Two years after that, we went to another park with our daughter Charlotte. On countless days over the course of our lifetime, we went to parks and enjoyed the space as a family. As my family. As our family. Who knew what a walk in the park could truly do for a person? I never knew. Not until now.
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Note: As usual, I don't own the characters!