The House of Roses

by Holden Robinson

  “Thinking.........., and calling Colin.”

  “How did that go, honey?”

  “He didn't answer. I left a message asking him to call me.”

  “Good. How was Ella?”

  “Stronger today.”

  “Good. She's a tough old bird,” Rita said, and although there was confidence in her words, even in the dim light, Caitlin could see fear in her mother's eyes.

  “She is,” Caitlin said.

  “It was a long day. I'm worried about you.”

  “It was all right. Actually, it was better than all right. I finally talked to Maria. I called her from the hospital.”

  “How is she?”

  “She's like Maria.”

  “I like her, Cate.”

  “Me, too, and I miss her. I invited her for the weekend. I didn't think you'd mind.”

  “Of course not. She can go to the festival with us.”

  “That would be nice,” Caitlin said softly. Neither woman spoke for over a minute, and the shop was filled with the gentle sounds of evening, and the soft hum of the refrigerated case.

  “Are we going to be all right, Cate?” Rita asked, breaking the silence.

  “I think so.”

  “You've really forgiven me?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Thank you, Cate.”

  “For what?”

  “For your forgiveness. It sets a good example. Maybe now I can find a way to forgive myself.”

  Thirty-six

  Colin rose early on Thursday morning. He felt guilty about not returning to work, but he realized some things were more important. He had already spoken to his attorney who was forging ahead with the legal work, and Caren was helping with the many other preparations. Caren, he thought, was fast becoming his second favorite woman on the planet. The first, of course, being Caitlin. Caren had called at ten that morning to tell him a doctor he had worked with and respected had yet to sell the home he'd listed when he relocated to the west coast that summer. Caren had spoken to him and he was pleased to rent the property to Colin for as long as he needed it, with the hope that a sale would eventually be facilitated.

  He was planning to pick Caren up in an hour and together they would look at the rental. She had already determined that it was in the same school district where Mia was currently in the first grade. He was relieved to know that the little girl he had begun to love deeply wouldn't have to be uprooted from the school she loved, and the children she regarded as friends. After looking at the rental at 2:00, Colin and Caren were meeting with a hospice nurse, who would assist in preparing the family and their home, for a dying woman.

  He prayed he was strong enough to help Rosario and Mia with life's most painful transition. Although it was impossible to forget about the Grim Reaper's fast ascent into his normally orderly life, he was committed to helping Rosario live the last days of her life, and because of that commitment, he had asked Rosario if she and Mia would accompany him to the Oktoberfest in New Hope the coming weekend. Part of him wanted to ask Caitlin if she'd like to go, but he wanted to talk to her first, to see where they stood, and then he'd ease her gradually into his newly chaotic life. It was too much to spring on her all at once. Mia was excited to go, and her only concern was whether or not she could take Marvin, who Colin learned was a tattered bear the child had loved since infancy.

  “Of course,” Colin said out loud in the condo.

  His life had deteriorated to the point where he had begun talking to himself, and although it should have felt abnormal, it didn't. Nothing felt normal, but his life felt fuller than it ever had, and he was surprised to think he had once felt fulfilled by the seemingly empty life he had lived for years.

  The only thing missing was Caitlin, and Colin was amazed she hadn't called him back. He'd called her the night before after returning from dinner with Rosario and Mia. His call had gone to voice mail, and he chastised himself for calling back thirty minutes later, if only to hear her voice again on the cheerful recording. Both times he had left messages, the second time citing several minutes of no service in between calls, an excuse he had manifested for calling twice in the same hour. Some would call him adolescent. Some would call him lovesick, and Caren had, just that morning.

  It was bigger than that, he admitted to himself. Caitlin was the love of his life, his soul mate, if such a perfect partner existed. He believed it did. He wondered again how it was that he had been able to leave her. He knew in his heart that Caitlin still loved him, and he knew she would love Mia, as if she were her own. And despite Colin's confusion about his own spirituality, he believed in heaven, a place where the good of heart and pure of soul were gathered after their earthly lives. He knew Rosario would be watching over them, and he knew he would make her proud.

  Forty-five minutes later he was heading across town to pick up Caren. He stopped at the tidy apartment building where she lived, and she was already waiting out front. She smiled when she saw him, and Colin got out of the car to open the door for her.

  “My savior,” Colin said, holding the door for the woman who had become his confidant.

  Caren watched with concern as he circled the car and climbed cautiously into the driver's seat, although it was obvious his battered knee was improving.

  “I wanted to thank you, Caren, for doing so much of this for me. I know you're juggling all of it it around your work schedule.”

  “It's fine, Colin. I enjoy chaos.”

  “Then you're hanging with the right guy,” Colin said, turning to smile at his passenger.

  Colin drove toward the rental house. Once they arrived in Brooklyn, he began watching the street signs, trying to recall the directions the Realtor had given him, the directions he thought he had committed to memory.

  “Son of a bitch,” he suddenly said, and Caren gasped slightly.

  “Get that out of your system, young man. You can't be talking like that with that precious angel in your house.”

  “Sorry. I thought I remembered where this was.”

  “You didn't write down the directions?” Caren chastised.

  “No,” Colin groaned, sounding like a disobedient child.

  “Good thing I did. Turn left here.”

  “Thanks.”

  Caren watched the scenery, alternately glancing into the notebook she held.

  “Turn right at the next light. It should be two blocks ahead on the right. The Realtor said her sign was in the front yard,” Caren offered, and Colin slowed the car as they both began looking for the house.

  “Yeah. I remember that part,” Colin said, wondering if the chaos in his life was affecting his short-term memory.

  “And that would be the Realtor standing in the driveway,” Caren said, as Colin parked the car against the curb.

  “We made it,” he said with relief. “Jeez, this is a hell of a nice place.”

  “It's what?” Caren asked, and Colin repeated what he said, cleaning it up a bit to meet a G rating.

  “It's a nice house,” he said, smiling at his companion.

  “That's what I thought you said,” she said, reaching for the door handle.

  “I'll come around and get you,” Colin offered, and Caren shook her head.

  “Don't worry about it. I already know you're a gentleman, Colin,” she said, laying her hand on his right shoulder. “It's only recently that I've seen what a great man you are.”

  He watched as Caren got out of the car. He took the moment of privacy to wipe his moist eyes. He wasn't sure if he felt like a great man. Am I, Dad? Am I a great man?

  He sat for another moment lost in thought. He wasn't sure he was a great man, but he felt himself becoming one, and he felt whole, a feeling that satisfied him greatly. He sat behind the wheel, watching Caren and the Realtor greet one another. His eyes misted again as he thought of his dad and mom. More than ever before he wished they were still alive. He longed for their support, and he knew they would have made wonderful grandparents. As much as he missed them,
he was finally coming to terms with their passing, and as a tribute to them, he would commit to leading a full life, one filled with love and family.

  Colin stepped out of the car into the warm autumn afternoon. His eyes scanned the neighborhood, with its grand multi-colored trees, and attractive homes. He balanced on the cane, closed the door, and hobbled up the sidewalk. The knee felt pretty good, and his steps were slow but steady.

  Caren watched him as he walked. She had only recently come to know this man whose voice she had heard on the phone every day for a year. Despite the newness of their friendship, she saw something in his eyes, something she recognized and admired more than he would ever know. Dr. Colin Thomas had been an adult for better than twenty years, but he was finally becoming a man. The good doctor was growing up.

  ***

  Caitlin Goodrich was finally beginning to feel alive again. Under threat of bodily harm, she had reluctantly moved the babies into her mother's bedroom the previous evening. It was only for one night, Rita had assured her daughter, and Caitlin had finally admitted she was exhausted and needed the sleep.

  “Just think of me as Rita Poppins,” her mother had said the night before. Caitlin smiled at the recollection, as she sat on the porch with a cup of coffee. She could hear voices from the shop, and she pictured her mother working, as the babies sat in the sun.

  Caitlin made her way through the yard, to the side of the house, and saw Rita through the window. She held a baby on her shoulder, and was singing a song Caitlin recognized from her youth. She didn't know the name of the song, but it filled her heart to see Rita so comfortable in her role as grandmother. As she watched, she had the urge to cry. Rita had changed, and Caitlin wasn't sure she realized it. The truth had freed her, softened her, and where there was once tension, there was now peace. Even the timbre of her voice had changed, and Caitlin saw refinement in her mother she had never known.

  “Hi,” Caitlin said, sticking her head through the door propped ajar by a large stone.

  “There's Mommy,” Rita said.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Caitlin said, taking the baby from the stroller, and moving to stand along side her mother.

  “How's he doing?” Caitlin inquired of her son.

  “Nathan was right. This one's gonna be trouble,” Rita said.

  “I know. I hope he'll be okay later. I'm taking the babies to the hospital to introduce them to Ella. The doctor said it was okay, but we just need to keep the visit short. Do you want to go?”

  “I don't want to intrude,” Rita said, not quite meeting Caitlin's eyes.

  Caitlin let the remark pass. “Don't you be giving Grandma a hard time, Rogan,” she said, gently touching her son's cheek. Hannah had already fallen asleep in her mother's arms, and Caitlin bent down to shower her peaceful face with kisses. “I love you, baby,” Caitlin said, and Rita smiled.

  “You're a good mother, Cate,” Rita said.

  “I had a good teacher,” Caitlin said, as she laid Hannah in the double stroller that sat in the middle of the shop.

  “I can't imagine you really think that,” Rita said, laying Rogan beside his sister. Both babies dozed, as sun catchers in the shop window cast prisms of light across their tiny faces.

  “You really don't know, do you, Mom?” Caitlin asked, and Rita looked confused. “I know we weren't the perfect mother and daughter, but I knew you loved me, and I knew Daddy loved me,” Caitlin said. Her voice had broken at the mention of her father, and she paused to clear her throat. “I also knew something was different, but I was a kid, Mom, and I didn't know what it was. I'm not a kid anymore, and I'm a mom now too, and I think I know what it was. You didn't think you deserved me, and you didn't think you deserved my love.” Caitlin looked at Rita, who had begun to cry. “You still don't.”

  “Do I?” Rita whispered.

  “Of course. I need you now. I need you more than ever.”

  “I feel like things are different now that you know,” Rita said, wiping her eyes on a wad of tissues she had taken from her apron.

  “They are. I respect you so much more because you told me the truth.”

  “I should have told you a long time ago.”

  “But you didn't. And you didn't have to tell me now.”

  “Ella wanted you to know.”

  “She could have told me,” Caitlin said. Rita held out a tissue and Caitlin took it.

  “She didn't feel it was her place. She's a good woman, Cate.”

  “So are you, Mom.”

  “Do you really think so, because most of the time I'm not sure.”

  “You're a nut, Mom. You know it, I know it, but it's part of your charm. Ask anyone. No one around you is bored. There is nothing fake about you. Most people are afraid to show the world who they really are. You're not, Mom.”

  “I'm afraid of everything else.”

  “I know. So am I. We'll work on that,” Caitlin said, laying her hand on her mother's arm. “You still listening to me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. When I asked Maria to come, the issue of you minding, or being put out in any way never came up. You know why?”

  Rita said nothing, she simply sat listening to her daughter.

  “Okay, don't humor me by asking why, but I'll tell you anyway. It never came up because your heart and your door are always open. They always were. Daddy was like that, too. Ella is like that. You're good people, Mom. I'd like to think I'm good people, too. I was just a God damned fool over Colin.”

  “Don't say that,” Rita chastised.

  “I was.”

  “I mean........,don't take the Lord's name in vain, Cate. You know I don't like that.”

  “I know. I'm sorry,” Caitlin whispered.

  “Have you told him yet?” Rita asked softly, as she knelt over the babies' stroller.

  “No, but I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell him I need to see him. It's not something you tell someone over the phone.”

  “That much I agree with,” Rita said. Hannah fussed and Rita took the tiny child into her arms.

  “I love you, darling,” she whispered, and the baby stared into her grandmother's eyes as if she understood.

  “I think she knows,” Caitlin said, taking several steps to stand beside her mother. “Come to the hospital with me later. You're not intruding. No matter what happened, you're a part of me.”

  “I know.”

  “So you'll come?”

  “I'd like that, Caitlin.”

  “So would I. I love you, Mom,” Caitlin said, laying her head against Rita's arm. Caitlin gently kissed her daughter, who slept against her grandmother's shoulder.

  “I know, sweetheart. I love you, too,” Rita said.

  Thirty-seven

  Colin Thomas was a man of medicine, but he avoided it when it came to his own body. He nervously fingered the two pills in the left pocket of his pants, as he and Caren stood in the hallway outside of Rosario Mariposa's small apartment. His knee was throbbing, likely from overuse, and he longed for the relief that one or both of the pain pills would provide.

  The door in front of him opened just a crack, and he felt his heart leap as Mia's small round face filled the opening.

  “Hi, Colin,” she said.

  “Hi, sweetheart. This is my friend Caren. Can we come in?”

  “Is she a doctor?” Mia asked, maintaining her place in the doorway.

  “No. She's a nanny,” Colin said, and they both watched as Mia processed the word.

  “Oh, like for rich kids,” Mia said matter of fact. Satisfied with the responses she'd gotten from the two adults, Mia opened the door fully. Colin and Caren stepped inside the small apartment.

  “Is Mom around?” Colin asked, not imagining she wasn't.

  “She's resting. I'll tell her you're here,” Mia said, disappearing into a hallway that made the outer hall look massive.

  “Now this is small,” Caren whispered, and Colin nodded.

  “Okay,” Mia said, reappearing in the doorway, and motion
ing with her hand for Colin to follow.

  “Mia, would you like to show me a park or someplace we can play?” Caren said, and Mia smiled.

  “Can Marvin come?” Mia asked.

  “Who's Marvin?” Caren asked, kneeling so she was eye level with the little girl. Colin was growing more impressed with his new nanny by the moment, and he watched the exchange between Caren and the child who would soon be his.

  “He's a bear. Not a real one though. Real ones are scary.”

  “Marvin's not scary then?” Caren asked, and Mia giggled.

  “No. He's cute,” Mia said.

  “Okay, but just in case I do get scared, can you hold my hand?” Caren asked, and Mia nodded.

  “Let me ask Mama first. Mama!!!” the child called, and Caren stood up beside Colin. They both watched as Mia disappeared once again into the alarmingly tiny hallway.

  “She's precious,” Caren whispered.

  “I know,” Colin said, feeling the familiar tightening in his chest. “I just want to protect her. As much as possible.”

  “You're getting this parenting thing better than you think,” Caren reassured him, and Colin smiled, although he still wasn't sure.

  “Mama said it was okay, as long as we wear sweaters,” Mia said, reappearing with a pink sweater and a well-worn bear hugged to her chest.

  “Where's Marvin's sweater?” Caren asked, and Mia laughed.

  “Bears don't need sweaters,” the child replied.

  “Okay then, let's go. We'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes,” Caren said to Colin.

  “Have fun, sweetheart,” Colin said, kneeling carefully in front of Mia. His knee was throbbing, but he barely noticed.

  “Kiss Marvin,” Mia said, and Colin did as asked. “Now me,” she said, and Colin pressed his lips to the little girl's cheek. Mia kissed his cheek and smiled at him. “See you in a few minutes, Papa,” she said, and Colin felt his eyes immediately fill with tears. Caren's eyes grew moist as she watched. “Can I call you Papa?” the child asked, and Colin nodded.

  “I'd like that, Mia,” he whispered, hugging the child tightly to his chest. Colin looked at Caren who watched him with tears sliding down her face. She quickly wiped them away when he stood.