Page 24 of Bed of Roses

Page List Listen Audio

Font:   

She continued.

“Blake, Harriet and I have discussed that triggers may be an issue. Harriet may feel threatened by your incoming texts, or by any unexplained absences. She’s working on that, but how does that make you feel?”

“It makes me feel like shit because I caused it. But I can deal with them and Haz,” I put my hand on hers, “I will never get mad at you for questioning me. I know you said you don’t want to monitor me, and I respect that, but just know that I will be an open book, always.”

Haz nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. I would never truly know the extent of the damage I’d inflicted on us, on her, but I’d work until my dying day to fix it.

The session continued, with discussions about more counseling and our decision to move house. We left feeling emotional, but I felt a sense of hope because Haz had agreed to stay with me. She’d made it very clear that I was on thin ice. I’d made the ice thin. I’d chipped away at it until it was barely strong enough to hold us up. It would take only the slightest crack for it to completely crumble, but that was what our “new” relationship would address. I’d do everything I could to thicken that ice and rebuild our foundation.

We headed home to relieve Belle from Immy duties and noticed the “For Sale” sign in Colin’s yard. I held Haz’s hand and smiled at her. “I love you, Haz. We’re going to be okay.”

Chapter 23. Rose - Blurred memories

Three months later

The last three months have been hell. To avoid charges, I had to spend a month in hospital. I mean, it wasn’t so bad. Some of the other patients were nice, and art therapy was really relaxing, but Corinne, my roommate, made my life hell. She had constant nightmares, so I barely slept, and she kept stealing my stuff. Coffee is a no-go here (no stimulants apparently), so Mom snuck me in some sachets to tide me over. Corinne found them no matter where I hid them, and I could hardly tell the nurses she was stealing my contraband. She stole my bra, my cute red top, and my books, and always denied it.

She also called me “Poser” all the time and mocked my tattoo when she saw it one day as I was coming out of the shower. She had zero boundaries and sometimes called me “whorebag.” She at least got in trouble for that because I’d shared my story in a group setting that was supposed to be confidential and bring no judgment. I didn’t judge her kleptomania, so she had no right to judge my life.

Auntie Jean was not involved in my care but visited often and stuck her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Dr. Sanders was really nice, and quite hot for a man in his 40s. He kind of reminded me of a tiger, powerful and stealthy, but patient. Like he was willing to wait for what he wanted. I knew he could sense a connection between us. He kept reminding me that Bear wasn’t into me, bringing in “evidence” like the restraining order and the charges, but I knew what he was doing. He wanted me and was trying to eliminate Bear as a threat to my affection. I played along, admitting honestly that Bear wasn’t the one for me.

I wouldn’t be stupid this time. I wouldn’t tell my mom about my sexy Tiger until we’d committed to each other. I still thought of Bear, but his absence didn’t hurt the way I thought it would. And I felt calmer, which was probably the truckload of medication I was on. I’d come off that soon though; my Tiger would want me alert and energetic for when the right time came.

Mom had moved me in with her, apparently it was a “condition” that the court had insisted on. It was okay, but she was not happy having me there. She constantly questioned where I was going and what I was doing. I think she was still in a bad mood about Colin. She was so angry that he’d left me barely anything, but I didn’t care about that. The carer’s payment I received for looking after him was enough. I was sadder about the fact that he wasn’t my dad. Mom denied this, but refused to let me do the DNA test that Colin had allowed for in his will. Apparently, he’d left a sample for my “closure.” She said my dad was either “the photocopier man” or “Lou from the bar.” Dr. Sanders made me realize I didn’t care about that anymore. Whoever my dad was, he obviously didn’t really care, or didn’t even know I existed. I didn’t need a dad when my Tiger was there to care for me. He frowned a lot and kept reminding me of “boundaries,” but I know he’s holding the professional line until I’m no longer a patient.

I had a new job at a jewelry store, and I absolutely loved it. The people were friendly, and I’d started socializing with them, though Mom tracked my location when I was out. I was saving for laser tattoo removal, and I was putting together a pretty decent fund. I can’t believe how expensive it is to have mistakes removed from your body. I know they couldn’t totally remove it; it would leave a fuzzy patch, like a blurred memory. I could just tattoo over it though, maybe with a Tiger with a stethoscope around his neck.

“Rose, you have your appointment. Go straight there and come straight home,” Mom commanded. I put the final touches on my make-up and spritzed some perfume over my neck.

“Yes, Mom. I know.” Ugh, she was such a jailer. Her and Auntie Jean were on me like flies on shit.

I smiled at my reflection. Time to meet my Tiger!

Chapter 24. Harriet - Meeting the neighbor

Some time later

Moving day had arrived! Blake and I had reconnected a great deal, and I found myself feeling more secure and safe every day. He had stopped going to counseling but checked in with me regularly and offered to come with me to see Shelley if I ever needed him to. Working with Shelley had been eye-opening. At first, I’d gone for my issues with Blake, but I found that I’d started talking to her more about being a mom and what that meant. I wasn’t feeling as dark anymore and was pushing myself to socialize more, with Blake, Belle, and my work friends.

Mick and Sean were doting uncles, though Sean and Blake still weren’t the same. It would take time, but they were at least speaking, and Sean had even laughed at his joke the other night. Thursday nights were back, and now Belle had joined the crew. Life was brighter and moving was our final step. It was a physical step but felt so symbolic.

Our new house had the perfect yard for Immy as she grew, and Blake had excitedly helped me design her new room. I felt cheated that we’d never had the “nursery” experience when I was pregnant, but this was just as fun, perhaps even more fun because we designed the room for Immy, not a mystery baby.

The removalists had put most of our stuff in the house, so we were sitting out the front, toasting our happiness and fresh start. Belle was sitting on the lawn holding Immy, who was kicking her fat little legs and squealing as Belle kissed her chubby cheeks. Immy was a very happy six-month-old who loved her food. We were so lost in our celebration that I didn’t even hear the woman creep up on us.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!”

I turned to see an attractive woman, probably in her late 20s. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and a very sweet heart-shaped face. A few months ago, she’d have made me stiffen, but now, she just looked like a kind, potential friend.

“Hi, I’m Harriet, this is Blake and over there is our baby Immy and my friend Belle.”

She shook my hand and turned to Blake.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Patsy. When you’re ready, maybe we could all catch up for a drink. There’re a few young families on the street, and they’d love to meet you.”

Blake shook her hand stiffly, his eyes darting to me.

“Patsy,” he acknowledged politely, but in a sharp tone. I sighed but was somewhat amused. He was holding tight to those boundaries, but this kind of reaction was completely unnecessary. We were still learning, but I’d soothe his mind later.