The Growth of a Pothos

Every task of Gina’s morning is meticulously planned out. This could be a result of undiagnosed OCD, but she likes to think peace is the byproduct of routine. This last year of her life has been nothing short of chaotic. Clinging to her morning routine is the only thing preventing her from severing her sanity.

She wakes up at the same time, 8:35 am, no matter the day of the week. The sun sneaks through the blackout curtains that she leaves cracked open on purpose. She nearly fell victim to overconsumption when she came across the sunrise alarm clock. Experts say this regulates your circadian rhythm, whatever that means, but it sounded beneficial. She added the clock to her cart, stared at the $179 price tag, when the realization hit her that sunlight is free. The curtains have been open since.

First order of business is to kiss both of her boys good morning. Her pink-nosed orange kitten is always curled into her belly, croissant-style. The week of Christmas, Gina opened her front door, and there sat the most precious kitten she had ever seen. She did not even know there were Orange Tuxedo cats until the universe gifted her one. The cat distribution system finally punched her ticket, and during the most special week of all. He was meant to be hers to love and care for. It has only been 3 months, but she knows in her soul that they are bonded. He gets the first kiss of the day. “ Good morning, my spice cake.” Smooch.

Lying along her back is the biggest golden doodle there ever was, his tail dangling over the crook in her knees. His overgrown, blonde, shaggy hair tickles her ear, and there is a faint snore in the air. Bear sleeps as if he has worked for 40 days and 40 nights. It is hard work being a good boy, don’t you know. Gina tilts her head back, “Good morning, my angel baby,” in her drowsy sing-song voice. He doesn’t move much, but he gives a small hitch of his tail. His signature lazy wag. “Do you want to start the day?!” This prompts an immediate flop upright that will surely bruise her calf, as it has every day for the last 5 years. He covers her in warm, sloppy kisses. And so the routine begins.

8:37. Gina pulls the covers back, and her feet hit the cold and warn hard wood. House shoes have always made her sweaty, but in those first few moments of shock, she wishes she had a pair. She quickly fluffs her skyblue striped duvet, straightens her two pillows, and gives them a sharp chop in the center. She saw that once online from a self-proclaimed interior designer and loved the cozy touch it adds. She pivots to the window where her pothos dangles and drapes from the ceiling, her crowning achievement. This pothos has seen four homes in the last year, and still it grows. It’s a gentle reminder of resilience. She quickly twists the blinds open to shower the plant in morning sunlight. A quick peck to the nearest leaf, and she leaves the room.

8:40. She walks down the hall and into the kitchen of her spacious 950-square-foot apartment. Every morning, she is filled with gratitude for finding this place 6 months ago. First-floor apartment of a duplex, stainless steel appliances, exposed brick, fenced-in yard just outside of Cincinnati. One neighbor that works nights, so naturally, they never see or hear each other. When she came across the posting, it was like a dog hearing all of their favorite words. Treat? Outside? Car ride? Sign me up. She touches the top of her Nespresso to warm the machine as she starts her “open shift”. She twists the blinds open to fill the kitchen with warmth and light. Nemo is doing his signature figure 8 in between her ankles, a clear sign he will waste away to nothing if he isn't fed this second. Bear is sitting pretty by the back door, her patient boy. She opens the back door, and he springs out, eager to relieve himself and start his daily yard inspections. She opens the cabinet for the wet food, grabs Nemo's orange bowl, and scoops a hefty serving in with a little water. She grabs her favorite mug from the cabinet. It's covered in shades of green and reads ASPIRING STAY-AT-HOME PLANT MOM. She grabs a pod and presses brew. Gina's creamer of choice is vanilla sweet cream, so she adds a hefty splash to the cup. When she grabs the mug it stings a bit from the heat, perfect.

8:43 Gina’s favorite part of the morning routine is turning on the lights. She walks down the hallway and plugs in the Christmas lights that cross the ceiling in a zig-zag formation. Who cares that it's March? The lights make her smile every day, so she's not taking them down. It feels like she is walking under the stars, no natter the weather or the time of day. When she enters the livingroom she reaches behind the slightly unstable bookshelf and turns on the candle lamp. There are 2 large windows and plants on everywall. As she crosses the room, she promises herself she will get curtains soon. However, she needs to get a rug first, and to get a rug, she needs to get a vacuum, and to get a vacuum, she needs to work extra shifts at the Pizzeria. She talks herself out of the spiral she almost slips into every morning. However, what she does have is a pink couch. It is not the most comfy, but it's beautiful and makes it feel like this is Barbie's Dream House. No boys allowed, unless they have 4 legs.

8:45. Crap, where is her phone? Nemo must have knocked it under the bed last night. She makes her way to the bedroom, checks under the head of the bed, and sure enough, her phone sat just out of reach. She places her coffee on the nightstand and drops to her stomach. A quick, but awkward crawl, and she can grab her phone. Dead. This damn cat. He must have knocked it off the charging pad the second she fell asleep. As she crawls out from under the bed, she makes a mental note to get a corded charger after class. She had been taking Pilates classes for the last two months. Now that her body was adjusting to the soreness growing muscles bring, her mind was beginning to follow. She looked forward to losing herself in her 10 AM session every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. Today was Thursday.

8:46. Bear is typically breaking the door down by now, ready for his breakfast of chicken and rice kibble. Weird. She makes her way back to the kitchen, and through the window, she can see Bear’s front paws perched on the fence. He is such a large dog that he could easily jump, but he is too chicken to find out what is on the other side. She slips on her tan hoodie and her beaten Uggs that live next to the door for this exact circumstance and opens the door. She rounds the small corner, and her world shifts.

8:47. Gina feels the blood drain from her face. Her legs go numb, and she is sure they are going to give out. Her stomach bottoms out, drops to the center of the planet with a quickness that leaves her feeling queasy. Her fingers have a tingle to them that feels almost electric. She hasn't taken a single breath. Her line of sight is cloudy, and she feels a ringing in her ear. It sounds like a broken stereo. She gives a few quick blinks just to make sure she can. That is all the physical control she can muster. She feels her ears warm and travel down her neck, which is disorienting as the ice crawls up her spine. Seconds, minutes, or even hours pass as she stands there, frozen in place. Has her heart beat at all in the time that has passed? Bear’s duster of a tail is swaying freely, a sign of familiarity. His chin tilted skyward for easy access. He has a favorite spot just under his ear, but above his collar. I see dark fingers working with precision, scratching Bear just the way he likes. I see his tongue fall from his mouth as he tilts his head in my direction. He is a friendly dog to a fault. Gina often jokes that, given the opportunity, he would give intruders a house tour. In that moment, she realizes just how right she was. How could he be here?

8:47. Her mouth is filled with lead. She watches his mouth move, but nothing registers to her. Is he talking to her? A quick whistle left her mouth, a test of her strength. Bear hops from the fence and bounds to her side. She hears the jingle of his collar, the sound brings her back to her body. Will stands at the edge of the fence, no more than 20 yards and a shitty fence between them. He repeats himself, and Gina is reminded of how much he hates doing that. “How has my girl been?” A charming smile spreads across his face. Her mouth waters, preparing to turn up what is left of last night's dinner.

She remembers the first time she saw that smile. It is so rare that men have dimples. They had met at a bar a year ago. Gina had been dedicated to her career for the majority of her 20’s. There was no time to chase the thought of a husband when there was a corporate ladder to climb. Just a few months shy of her 30th birthday and a promotion within reach, the company was impacted by massive layoffs. Gina, along with 35% of her department, had nine business days to pack their offices up and find new employment. That was a year ago, and she hasn’t found another office to call home. On the last day in office, Gina headed across the street to the dive bar her and her cowokers often frequented after a long day. She decided this would be the last time she would come here, officially closing out this chapter of her life. The bartender poured her a hefty glass of red wine, whatever was on tap that day. She was halfway through the glass when a beautiful man sat next to her. He flashed her a smile, dimples on full display. Bright brown doe eyes, beautiful full lips pulled together by skin that looked like chocolate. “How is my girl doing?” He said this so casually, like they were old friends. Gina was so taken aback, considering this was a stranger, but a part of her loved how bold that was. She decided to play along, and before she knew it, hours had passed. The feeling was almost serendipitous. Lose a job, but find the love of your life the same day in a bar she frequented, but never got lucky in. He was in town from Columbus, visiting family. They exchanged numbers, and the rest was history. They dated for a month before going exclusive. Four months before moving in together, and talking about rings and what their future held. She was warned by her friends, but she felt inside her that when you know, you know. So naturally, she sold her belongings and moved into his apartment 2 hours away. They lived in bliss for about a month before all hell broke loose. He was so mean to her. He verbally broke her spirit until he physically blacked her eye. She filed a police report, packed Bear in the car along with her pothos when he was at work, and fled home. She only went back for her things with her brother in tow. Lucky for Will, he wasnt home. After staying with her brother for a few weeks, she found a job at the pizzeria and an apartment the following week in a location just out of Cincinnati. She was starting over, and it felt good. How was it that, as she was nearly buttoned back up, he found them?

8:48. The memories flood her mind in an instant. Gina steeled herself as best as she could. “What the fuck do you want?” She knows he can hear the catch in her voice. Her hands are shaking, so she put them in her hoodie pocket. Her mind hollows out as she touches what she now remembers is her lifeless phone. She takes a step back as his hand touches the gate. This cannot be happening. Can she make it inside with the dog? Bear loved him so much. Would he recognize the threat and bolt with her without resistance? She has no choice but to try. Her mind whirls with the possibilities of what would happen if he got inside the house. She grabs Bear by his neck and bolts around the corner.

8:49. She slams the door shut, her and Bear tucked safely away inside. The door rattles, and she hears Will at the door. She once loved how large he was; he used to make her feel so delicate and worth protecting. Now, all she can imagine as his 6’2 physique hits the door is how badly she needs protection from him. “Come on, G, you didn't even give me a chance to explain.” Her back is to the door as the first tear slides down her face. Bear registers the threat and is barking at an octave she has never heard before. There is not enough air in the room. “I had a bad day, okay? Is that not allowed anymore?” The room is spinning. Back still to the door, she hits the floor and tucks in her knees. He has to leave eventually, right? “I know I made a mistake. I have thought about it every day since you left. It was a lapse in judgement and I don’t want to lose you for it.” Why did her phone have to be dead today of all days? “What happened to the future we planned, G? Are you really going to throw us away over something so trivial? Please trust me, I am so sorry.” Her heart ached; she wanted to believe him so desperately. But how can she when the door is splintering under his strong kicks?

8:51. Has it really only been 16 minutes since she opened her eyes? She clung to her morning routine as that was the only thing preventing her from slipping into a deep depression. If she started her day with order, the rest of the day was sure to be in control. That is simply how a routine worked. She never planned on a dead phone and her unstable ex to find her. Was this all her fault? She could have just gone home that day after work. She should never have smiled back. She could never have sold her belongings and moved away, against all warnings that it was too soon. She should have known better and seen this coming. The door continues to shake behind her. Bear is whimpering, and Nemo is pacing under her legs. The room is spinning. Head between her knees, she is forcing air into her lungs and praying he goes away.

8:53. Bear is licking her forearm. Everything is so quiet. An hour has surely passed. She raises her head to see blue and red flashing lights outside her kitchen window. Gina is disoriented as she stands on shaky legs. Is she dreaming? She hears a gentle knock on the door. “Gina, are you in there?” a soft woman's voice. She unlocks the door and opens it just a crack. Her neighbor stands there in navy blue scrubs with messy curls falling from her bun. She is so taken aback that it takes her a beat to recognize this woman. She lives above her in unit two. They have only spoken one other time in the few months she has lived here. They have opposite schedules, therefore live opposite lives. She blinks a few times when Sarah says, “I stayed at work late this morning. When I parked, I saw him running after you and didn’t waste any time calling the police. Are you okay?” Gina opens the door and slides out. She wraps her arms around Sarah and releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Sarah gives her a warm embrace as they stand in their strength together. An officer is making his way across the yard as another loads a thrashing Will into the car.

9:12. Sarah stands with Gina while she gives her statement. Turns out that when the officers arrived, Will was so in the throes of breaking down my door that he did not hear them approach. He tried to make a run for it and did not get far before one of the officers tackled him. They took her statement, enforced the restraining order, and left Gina to pick up the pieces of her morning. She invited Sarah in for a coffee, where they got to know each other under less pressured circumstances. Gina grabbed her now lukewarm, but unfinished cup. She brewed a decaf for Sarah. Turns out she just recently left a less-than-friendly relationship, too. They laughed, cried a little, and swapped stories about what led them to be the women they are today. Nearly an hour passed before Sarah had to end her day officially, and Gina needed to start hers. She plopped her phone on the charging pad. Dressing for class, with her pothos hanging in her line of sight, she was reminded that time will pass and she will still grow.