Page 85 of True North

Who? Eddy?

Rosie Rawlins, what did you do?

I sit frozen, perched precariously on the side of the sofa. Harry starts his way back to the living room but halts halfway when he notices his mother clutching my hand.

“I know it wasn’t right, but it wasnecessary.” A tear slides down her cheek.

“Oh, Rosie.”

“Promise me, Louisa.” Her eyes are pleading.

She doesn’t voice what that promise is, but I know she means keeping what happened with Eddy a secret. To save this life Harry wants to build for us.

I bury my heads in my hands for a moment, working through long breaths. Footsteps pad toward us and I lift my gaze.

Harry lowers to his knees by her side and helps her sip the water. Rosie swallows and lays back down. He tilts his head, his brows lowering as his mouth wobbles to a thin line. His Adam’s apple bobs before he says, “What are we talkin’ about, Ma?”

“Your father.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ma. Not now,” he breathes.

I guess there really is nothing greater than a mother’s love. She made a sacrifice so great, so terrible, for the chance for her only child to live the life he wanted. That kind of bond between mother and son is only something you imagine exists in fairytales.

Tears course down my cheeks, and when Rosie drags her eyes from Harry to meet mine, it’s all I can do to force a smile. I can’t blame her. Everyone thought it; she was simply the soul brave enough to do it. I hug Harry’s shoulder, and Rosie winces again, her breaths quickening.

She is dying right in front of us, and there is absolutely nothing we can do. Rosie grabs at her collar as Harry runs a hand over her hair. “It’s okay Ma, you’ll be okay. Those trees of yours have been listening. You’ve done your bit. Carried your load well. Just rest...Please.”

I sob into Harry’s shoulder, trying so hard to stifle the pain of watching Harry lose his mother. Rosie’s eyes fall shut. A small whimper leaves her lips as she rolls into him. He leans in, hugging her tight. He rubs her arm, talking softly to her. I wrap myself around him, not willing to let go.

After all she went through, they went through... For time to be cut off. It’s?—

Rosie goes rigid, then slumps.

Harry leans back, desperately searching her face.

“Ma,” he rasps.

Oh god.

She stills, her hand wrapped in her son’s.

Harry’s head sinks to the sofa beside her, his body shaking so badly the sofa moves.

“Oh, Harry.” I curl around him, nestling my face into his shoulder. A long, painful groan reverberates from him. I chug through sobs. He rises to his knees, resting Rosie’s hand over her stomach, and turns to slump against the sofa.

On my knees by his side, I wait.

He stares ahead, his body still trembling, hands shaking in his lap. I take them and slide onto his lap, wrapping myself around him, like I can protect him from the agony that just found him.

He chugs sobs into my hair. His hands find my hips and grip tight. I hold on, hold against the pain ravaging his heart.

I’m handing this ship over to you, Rosie said. What on earth does that mean?

Her family?

Harry?

A renewed sense of protectiveness washes over me. Followed by something stronger still—unconditional love. For this man. This family of two who fought so hard to make the most of each day, despite the shitty hand they were dealt. If Rosie Rawlins had the strength to weather that monster of a husband of hers and protect her son all these years, I can do the same.

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