Page 6 of The Rose and the Hound
I called Rose in for a face-to-face appointment. She seemed reluctant but this update could be potentially upsetting, so I wanted to make sure she was okay after I delivered it. She sat before me, looking demure and polite in a flowing red sundress. She was so beautiful it was simultaneously hard to look at her and hard to look away. I hoped the roses had made her happy. She seemed light. Well, not light, but not unhappy.
“So, as I said in my text, I only had the name Robert to go on. Canon didn’t hold records from that time and denied me access regardless. I searched for ‘Robert’ and ‘Canon,’ adding in keywords like ‘Hamilton’ and restricting the date range. There were a few results, but only one was promising. Robert Farrell was a Canon employee who lived close to Hamilton at the time. He passed away six years ago, according to his son’s funeral message on Facebook. I reached out to his son to make vague enquiries.”
Rose nodded. This was a sensitive case. In the message to his son, I’d claimed to be the son of another Canon employee whose name I had found in an old news article on a Christmas drive that Canon had run in the area at about the same time. His son was eager to connect, making me feel bad that I had no genuine information about his father from that era. I stated that my father had recently passed away and that I was going down memory lane. He offered some memories of a Christmas party, where he remembered “my father” dressing up as Santa. We exchanged stories and I casually asked about his brother. He said he was an only child because his father had experienced difficulties with fertility. It was no real proof, but when he sent an image of his father, I realized quickly that Rose was not this man’s child. The man in the image was Korean. He hadbeen adopted by Americans as a newborn. Rose had no Korean features.
“I think we can safely rule Robert out,” I said to Rose, noting the disappointment on her face.
“So, that leaves Lou from the bar,” she replied quietly.
“Yes, and as I said, it’s not impossible to follow that thread. There will just be no documented evidence. Lou would now be an old man. I’m going to head to the sports bar and ask if there are any elderly regulars. Someone might remember Lou.”
She smiled softly, meeting my eyes before quickly looking away.No need to control your emotions in front of me, Zahra.
“Thank you. Do you require any more money? I know you’re putting in a lot of work.”
I really wasn’t. Most of my research was computer-based. I’d only had one physical trip out to Roy’s company, but she’d still racked up a bill way higher than what she was paying. And now I’d have to go visit this bar.
“No, it’s all sorted. I know how important this is to you, Rose.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Edison.” She rose from her seat and nodded her goodbye.
Shit. I’d called her Rose again. At least I wasn’t calling her Zahra. I’d made her sad. Even if my roses had lifted her spirits, she was sad again.
“I’ll walk you out,” I offered, stepping beside her and placing my hand on her lower back. She stepped away like I’d burned her.
“That won’t be necessary.” Her voice was unsteady, and even as she pulled away, she leaned the top half of her body toward me.
I stepped back, creating an even bigger distance. “Okay, well, thank you for coming in. I’ll text you once I've had a chance to visit the bar.”
She left without giving me any more words.I’m so sorry, my Zahra. I scared you.
I was so worried about her that hours later, I found myself parked in front of her apartment building. I don’t know what I was looking for. The building had a restricted underground parking lot, so it’s not like I could even see if she was home. I sat analyzing my actions when I caught a flash of green in my side mirror. It was Rose, in a lime green tank. She was jogging, her ponytail swishing from side to side with each stride. Her outfit was tight, very tight. I sat appreciating the view and the fact that I had the darkest legal tint on my windows. She was breathtaking. She paused outside her building and bent over on herself to catch her breath.
So she liked jogging. Maybe she’d like a gift related to that. I waited until she walked inside before I took off for home. Tonight, I’d look for a new gift for her. Maybe that would make her smile.
Chapter 8: The Rose—Tokens of hope
I was devastated to have to rule out the photocopier man as my father. Why had Mom even suggested him if it was so obvious I was not his daughter? I was starting to think I’d never find him. Mom clearly got around back then, and “Lou” could be yet another dead end, leaving me with nowhere else to go. She was also very obviously disingenuous to even suggest Robert as my father, so she was completely unreliable. A liar. I’d have to talk to Dr. Warren about my fears. She always made me feel ... not necessarily better but understood. Even if I didn’t find my father, I was complete in myself.
I accept myself wholly and unconditionally.
I accept myself wholly and unconditionally.
I accept myself wholly and unconditionally.
It was crazy at work at the moment. It was the busiest time of year, so orders were flying in by the thousands every day. I enjoyed being busy. Like jogging, it left me little time to overthink. It also meant my colleagues would be too busy to socialize with me. Gloria had left some bottled juice at my door yesterday, with a note saying she worked at the bottling plant and wanted to thank me for being a good neighbor. She could definitely be behind the roses. She seemed to want to be my friend, but I was cautious. I hadn’t become obsessed with any women in my life, but I was aware of my aching need for connection. If I became an unwanted pest to Gloria, I’d have to leave my apartment, and I liked it here.
I wandered through the hall to my apartment, hoping I wouldn’t run into Gloria. Part of me hoped I would. She was always so cheery, and I wondered what it would be like to have a real friend. There was a package at my door.
I picked it up and frowned. I hadn’t ordered anything lately. Placing it on my kitchen counter, I slid the knife under the tapeand opened the box. Inside was a wrapped gift. It was an odd, long shape. I tore open the yellow gift wrapping to find a bright green sports drink bottle. It had a quote printed on its length.
Open up the windows and let the sunshine in
It was pretty and vibrant, and matched perfectly with my favorite sports tank. This was definitely Gloria. I didn’t know how to respond. I’d have to thank her because this was truly a kind gesture. She didn’t want to be my lover. She just wanted to brighten my day. Make me smile. She also had darker features and potentially had Middle Eastern roots. I smiled. A real, genuine smile. Someone liked me. And even knowing that, I didn’t feel like smothering her or knocking on her door straightaway. I’d wait until tomorrow. Or even the next day. I wouldn’t buy a reciprocal gift or stay up all night baking a thank you gift. I’d simply thank her and smile. Knowing all this and realizing the progress that it indicated made me excited and hopeful.
I am capable of happy relationships.
I am capable of happy relationships.
