In Full Bloom: Sequel to 'The Crying Rose': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 2)

by Beers, B. A.

  Grandma Jo nodded her agreement as she sat down.

  “This house is out of the question. For one thing, it doesn’t have enough available sleeping arrangements, and most importantly, we have to recognize the hold it has on her.”

  Giving a small, knowing laugh, Grandma Jo placed her free hand over Mark’s. Noting his obvious discomfort, she stated the only conclusion possible, “How about my house? It has the room, and to tell you the truth, I would be much more comfortable in my own kitchen.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” Mark blurted out. “The idea never entered my head,” he said laughingly, as he winked at her.

  “Yeah, sure,” she responded in kind.

  “It is close to this house, and close to the clinic. I believe it is the perfect solution.” Mark stated these facts like it had not occurred to him before that moment. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, as he whispered, “I owe you one.”

  “I’ll just add it to all the others,” she reminded him.

  Sitting back in his chair, a frown formed as his thoughts turned to Sami. “Our next objective is to convince Sami to come with us.” Grandma Jo remained quiet for she did not have a clue as to how he was going to achieve this miracle. “We can’t physically take her without her cooperation. It has got to be her idea. Her willingness is vital.” Mark released his hands from Grandma Jo’s. Placing his elbows on the table, he sat forward and cradled his head in his hands. His tired mind could not come up with a solution or even a remote possibility.

  Seeing the folded paper and phone on the table, Grandma Jo cleared her throat to gain his attention. “Mark, I have an idea,” she ventured. His look pleaded with her to continue. “How about asking Dr. Peterson?” she pointed to the items next to his elbow.

  Happy to have this direction, Mark seized the items and reached into his pocket for his wallet. Removing his calling card, he punched in the required numbers Jan had given him. Within seconds, he had Jon on the line.

  It took Mark some time to update Jon on Sami’s awakening and events that had transpired since their conversation the prior day. Jon listened closely and limited his comments until Mark had finished.

  “So, Molly was the answer to bring her back,” Jon commented first. “I told you she was attached to that animal.”

  “Real attached,” Mark responded.

  “Good job, Mark,” he praised.

  “Don’t pat me on the back quite yet,” Mark lamented.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I did get her to face the contents of the package, but she has transgressed this morning back into her own private world.”

  “Stubborn little thing, isn’t she?” Jon stated.

  “Yes, a little,” Mark retorted. “Jon, I believe that this house is holding her back and I need to remove her from it.”

  “That’s logical,” Jon observed. “Got any ideas since our usual placements and the hospital are not feasible?”

  “Yes, Grandma Jo has volunteered her house for service.”

  “Mark, do you really think it is wise to bring her into this situation. I know that she has volunteered for years at the clinic, but….”

  “Jon,” Mark interrupted, “she has been here with me since yesterday.”

  “What?” Jon stormed. “Are you nuts?”

  “Jon, be realistic, I needed help, and besides, I trust her,” Mark said reassuringly to Jon.

  “Well, it is your case, son. Hopefully, you know what you are doing.”

  “Jon, I need your counsel.”

  “Regarding?”

  “Convincing Sami to go with us.”

  Jon pondered the idea for a minute or two. “The dog!” Jon proposed strongly.

  “What?”

  “Present your case to her, stressing that it would benefit the dog. That it is the dog’s welfare that concerns you. Keep your focus off her,” Jon suggested.

  “It might work,” Mark said, tossing the idea around in his mind. Foreseeing only one obstacle, he had to solicit Jon’s help. “My relationship with her is still pretty shaky. So, it might be helpful if you could do me a small service.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Would you consider speaking to her? You have a stronger history with her than I do. She might take the suggestion better from you,” Mark pleaded his argument.

  “It’s worth a shot. I’m not going to say she will listen to me, but I wanted to speak with her anyway,” Jon concluded.

  “Great!” Mark responded excitedly, as he got to his feet and made his way to the back door. “Right now, she is sitting outside near Molly. I am taking the phone to her.”

  “Mark, before you give her the phone, I want to let you know that I have arranged to come home on Friday. In the meantime, keep this number handy, in case you need me before then.”

  “Okay, will do. Do you have pen and paper?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me give you Grandma Jo’s number.” Mark supplied the number as he walked out the back door.

  ***

  Closing the door, Mark observed that both Sami and Molly turned their heads in his direction. As Mark walked toward them, he noted Sami’s blank expression, making him groan inwardly. Yet, at the same time, he watched as Molly gained her feet, and trotted over to him happily. At least you are happy to see me, he thought, as he used his free hand to pet the top of the dog’s head.

  Returning his gaze to Sami, he held out the phone to her. “The phone is for you, Sami. It is Dr. Peterson,” he spoke formally. He watched transfixed as her eyes darted from him to Molly and then to the phone.

  The blank expression melted from her face as she reached for the phone with much eagerness. He thought she appeared like a drug junkie needing a fix. Ripping the phone from his hand, she squealed with delight. “Jon?” She started babbling excitedly, a mile a minute.

  Mark shook his head and walked toward the edge of the patio, knowing that if he couldn’t understand her, then Jon was having just as much problem. He knew, from the look in Sami’s eyes when she grabbed the phone, she had dismissed him, and he didn’t have a chance in hell of intervening into the conversation. Sitting down on the edge of the patio, he prayed that Jon would understand and control her from his end.

  Molly had followed him to the edge of the patio and proceeded to sit down next to him. Mark reached out and scratched her while he listened to the unrecognizable babble coming out of Sami.

  “Molly, answer a question for me,” Mark spoke softly to the dog. “Does your mistress have any other temperaments beside ice cold and red hot?” Mark’s shoulders shook as he laughed silently. “Oh boy, talking to a dog. I’ve got to get some sleep.” Mark continued to scratch Molly, who was eating up his attention.

  Suddenly, Mark became aware that Sami had stopped her rush of words, and he gazed back at her over his shoulder. She was slowly rocking herself in the glider with her eyes closed, apparently listening closely to what Jon was saying. As if she sensed his scrutiny, she opened her eyes and focused not on him, but on Molly.

  “Yes, I see,” she spoke emotionlessly.

  “Cold as a cucumber,” Mark muttered.

  “No, no, I understand completely,” she stated. Several moments passed, and her concentration never left Molly.

  “If you believe it is best, Dr. Peterson.”

  Mark heard her words, and knew what Jon was doing. He was trying to get her to say it. Good for you Jon, he applauded the approach.

  “I believe it would be best to get her into a different environment for awhile. Give her some new stimulation. Yes, I see your point, but Dr. Peterson, where should I take her?”

  Atta boy, Jon, Mark cheered from the sidelines. Mark crossed his fingers, for the next few moments were crucial. Sami switched her gaze from Molly to him.

  “Dr. Stevens?” she questioned. Mark nodded. “Yes, he is here,” she continued. “Okay, I believe you.” She listened for a moment. “Yes, I promise. It was nice talking to you, also. Goodbye, Dr. Peterson,” she
said, disconnecting the line.

  ***

  Sami’s eyes returned longingly to Molly. Rising from the glider, not speaking, she turned and entered the house. Mark was confused, wondering what was the meaning behind her look a moment earlier. Getting to his feet quickly, he bolted to the back door, needing to know what she was doing.

  He didn’t have to search long for she was standing in front of the pantry, right inside the door. Standing there, holding the back door open, he watched her assemble Molly’s food, and deposit it into plastic bags. With her task completed, she set the bags on the counter next to the phone she had placed there. He heard her mutter something about a leash, and she turned toward the living room.

  Mark entered the kitchen, closing the door. He spotted Grandma Jo standing by the sink, and shrugged his shoulders in answer to the questioning expression on her face. “Got me,” he said as he passed her, following Sami.

  At the entrance to the living room, Mark spotted Sami at the closet door in the entryway removing a long green leash. She positioned it on the arm of the couch while shutting the closet door with her other hand. Looking up, she saw Mark standing in the middle of the passageway between rooms. “There are two bags of food on the counter. Her dry food is mixed with three tablespoons of canned food. I usually feed her a cup of food around ten in the morning. Then, around nine in the evening, I add to what she hadn’t touched in the morning, making about another cup more. Here is her leash. Yes, I walk her in the early evening, depending on the time of year. Now, when will you be bringing her back?”

  It seemed to Mark that Sami had said this all in one breath, not giving him a micro second to interrupt her. Dazed at the outcome of Jon’s call, it took Mark a few minutes to get his bearings.

  Sami watched him intently.

  “Wait…” he began, but was interrupted by her.

  “Did I forget something?” she asked. “Oh, of course, her pills.” She swiftly breezed by him as she went back to the kitchen. “How could I have been so stupid?” she admonished herself. “One a day is all I give her.” She retrieved the pill bottle from the cabinet and carefully set it on the counter with the food. Sami finally looked at Mark. He could read the fear in her face and body language. She was trembling all over.

  This will not do, Mark thought furiously. I should have done this myself. Adapting to a neutral mode, he approached Sami cautiously. Using a tone similar to his manner, he cooed, “Sami, we need to talk.” He gently placed his hand on her elbow, and guided her to the table. Indicating for her to sit, he saw her do as he directed. Her eyes were as big as a hoot owl’s eyes, he thought. “Sami, I am not taking Molly away from you.”

  Mark saw that his words hit home immediately. Her shoulders stopped trembling, and the tears, hiding just under the surface, now flowed, expressing her apparent relief.

  “What I had in mind, Sami,” Mark hurried on before he lost her again, “is for both of you to come with me.”

  That did it! Mark witnessed the transformation unfold before his very eyes. It appeared that the tears running down her cheeks reversed their course, and raced back up her face. She was ‘smoking’ hot. The unconcealed despair was instantaneously changed into furious rage. There was so much heat radiating from her that he could feel sweat tracking down his temples. A devilish-looking grin replaced her pouting lips, and her squinting eyes locked on him. Knowing, in his gut, that he was about to become a victim of a vicious, verbal assault from her, he braced his tired body and mind. Willing himself to relax, he hoped to let the words roll right off him.

  “I am not going anywhere!” Her words exploded in the air around them with so much intensity that Mark gritted his teeth from the impact.

  Mark caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and realized that Grandma Jo, who had followed them to the table, was now slowly retreating. Great, Sami, Mark thought, scare away my only helper.

  Sami was oblivious to this movement of Grandma Jo. She knew her target and was totally fixed on Mark. A growing, bottomless pool of anger was expanding, and consuming her with each passing second. Questions filled her angry thoughts. Who, exactly, is this expressionless man sitting there? Why do I hate him so much? Why am I not afraid of him? Yet, why do I feel threatened by his presence? She needed answers.

  “Who are you?” she demanded in a commanding voice, but a degree cooler than her last outburst.

  Mark crumbled inwardly, but kept the same expressionless appearance visible to her. Not again, he thought. “My name is…” he began.

  “I know your name,” she sneered. “I am not stupid. You are Dr. Mark Stevens from the clinic. I could swear that I dismissed you.”

  Mark’s reserve manner dissolved as the meaning of her words became clear to him. Suddenly, he realized that there were two different personalities sharing this one body. Mark wondered what was the extent of this new revelation. He quickly recalled that Sami’s file had not mentioned this possibility. So, he concluded that this split might be only temporary, a protective defense mechanism. The image of the painting of the crying rose appeared before him. He involuntarily shook off the memory of the image, knowing now that this woman needed him desperately. Remembering, however, the sharp thorns on the stem, he knew that he would have to use extreme caution.

  Sami witnessed the shake of his head, and part of her rejoiced at the sight. A surge of power permeated throughout her whole body. What a fool, she thought. He is so easy to manipulate. What kind of a doctor is he, she wondered? A low, wicked laugh escaped her, and was barely audible to her own ears. A satisfied, knowing smile appeared on her face as she watched the doctor’s eyes refocus on her. Good, she thought, he did hear me. Be forewarned, dear doctor.

  Her sly laughter infuriated him. Watch it, Mark, he thought. Calm down. This part of Sami has thorns. Tread lightly or she will make you bleed. Mark heard Pat’s voice in his head warning him. “I know,” he answered the voice. He had to quickly find the right path to negotiate around these thorns because she was building strength with each passing second.

  Instinct took over as he chose words carefully. “Mrs. Carter,” he paused, gauging her reaction. He saw her eyes open a little further, and her aggressive poise deflate a tiny bit. He silently congratulated himself on this small victory. Somehow knowing if he had addressed her at that moment as 'Sami', the outcome would have been different. The woman, sitting in front of him, was not the meek and frightened Sami. He mentally started making a list of the characteristics of each personality. He would, from now on, need to address the one that was dominant before speaking. Schooling and experience has taught him that the one sitting here before him was the most vocal perhaps, but the other one had the potential for the most damage to her. He would have to resolve the underlying issues causing this split in order to bring the two of them back to one. Mark personally dreaded these types of cases. Each entity needed completely different approaches in treatment. Most importantly, they could switch in the blink of an eye.

  Sami remained silent as her vision locked on the face of the man across from her. His expressions never varied, but his eyes were active. She also noticed that his eyes were extremely red-rimmed, with deep shadows under them, as if he had not slept in weeks.

  Mark was very aware that Sami was watching him intently, waiting for him to speak, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t get his tired mind to work. As he struggled for the proper words, he witnessed a distinct change in Sami.

  “You’re tired. You look terrible.” Her sweet voice was music to his ears.

  “Yes, Sami, I am tired,” Mark responded, thankful that she had returned. Hopefully he could keep her with him for awhile. “Sami, we need to talk,” he began, holding his breath to see if 'Mrs. Carter' returned.

  “I know,” she said.

  Releasing his breath, he relaxed a little knowing that dealing with this personality would be just as difficult, but a lot less grating on the nerves. He jumped in with both feet. “We need to discuss our next move.” Mark si
gnaled for Grandma Jo to approach, wanting Sami to understand that the ‘we’ meant all three of them.

  Sami glanced at Grandma Jo, who was just sitting down next to Mark, then back. She nodded once to indicate that she understood.

  “We have a housing problem,” Mark rushed on before she could speak. “We need a place that can house all of us, including Molly.” A puzzled expression arose on Sami’s face, but she held back from saying anything. Mark remembered Grandma Jo’s warning from last night, ‘be honest’. “Sami, you need to begin treatments again.” Her eyebrows started to lift dramatically, and Mark decided quickly to lay on the table what Jon had suggested. “It would benefit in your care of Molly.” It worked. Sami’s muscles relaxed.