Sleeping Roses

by RaShelle Workman

  #

  Shopping for her baby was exhilarating; exhausting. She’d gone to the mall, instead of going home to her empty, lonely house after her appointment with Dr. Bowden. She wanted to buy some things for her baby.

  She'd no idea there was such a plethora to choose from. She knew she needed at least the basics for Rose. Crib. Changing-table. Diapers. Blankets. Clothes. She found some items she liked and bought them. An hour into her shopping spree, though, she decided the rest would have to wait. She was tired and needed to sit down.

  Luckily, the Food Court was close by. After buying a drink, she sat at one of the tables. Putting her straw in her drink, she went to take a sip when she noticed a familiar figure.

  She admired him. Without a doubt, he was handsome. His chiseled face and bright smile made her heart do a one and a half turn, flip-flop back hand spring, anyway, it went crazy, even with the distance between them. She had the sudden urge to go say hello and was about to when she noticed her.

  Probably his date, she growled inwardly. I guess I can't expect him to wait around for me, she thought, feeling . . . What was she feeling? It was an emotion she hadn't experienced in a long time, not since high school. Finally, she recognized it. She was jealous.

  I can't believe I’m jealous.

  Suddenly, Phillip turned, as if he'd known she was there all along, smiling directly at her. She smiled back, trying to seem unruffled, but inside, she was ruffled.

  Ugh, should I get up and leave? Wave? What?

  Phillip leaned into the woman, whispering something in her ear. The woman smiled at what he said, before looking Sophie's way. He then started walking over to her.

  Raising her hand, she gave a sad, little wave, wishing he'd ignore her. He waved back, which brightened her mood a little. He seems happy to see me, she mused, her heart skipping a beat.

  "Hello, Sophie. How are you?"

  "Good, and you?" she returned, thinking sometimes pleasantries were ridiculous.

  What she wanted to say was, I'm not good; terrible in fact. For starters, I'm sick inside to see you with another woman, my life is a mess and I feel like I've gained fifty pounds in the last two months. What do you think about that, you big jerk? Instead she kept smiling.

  "I'm glad to hear it. Where's Rina? Is she with you?" He asked, looking around.

  "No, it's only me," she uttered, standing up. "I'm going, but I'll see you at school. Bye."

  "Hey, wait a minute, don't go," he said, seemingly frustrated with her.

  "Well, your date is trying to get your attention. It looks like it's your turn to order." She pointed dejectedly in the woman's direction.

  "Oh, right. Well, uh, then I'll see you at school." He started to walk away, but seemed to change his mind because he turned back to her and asked, "Would you like to meet her?"

  "What, meet your date? No, thanks, Phillip," she retorted, hoping he'd realize what a stupid question he’d asked.

  "My date?" He returned, looking confused.

  Sophie watched his face change from confusion to realization, as it must’ve dawned on him it was the only conclusion she could’ve come to.

  "No, no. She's not my date." He turned, pointing at her, chuckling. "The woman stomping her foot at me is my sister, Evelyn."

  "Sister? Oh," she returned, relief crushing her green-eyed monster.

  "Come on," he stated, gently pulling her by the arm.

  #

  Sophie enjoyed herself immensely. It was nice seeing Phillip with a family member, watching how he treated her and vice versa. She certainly had never experienced a situation like this with David, or even with Rina. David didn't have any and Rina rarely talked to hers. She preferred this. It was obvious Phillip and Evelyn had a great relationship. What made it more fun was Evelyn liked to talk even more than Phillip. She looked a lot like Phillip, too. She was shorter and more feminine, of course, but her hair

  and eye color were the same, and a lot of her mannerisms as well.

  "What do you think of my amazing brother?" Evelyn queried, in a matter-of-fact manner.

  Taken aback, Sophie responded, "I think he's one of the good guys."

  "Nicely put," Evelyn returned. Changing the subject, she asked, "Did Phillip ever tell you about the time my sister Maddy and I dressed him up like a girl?"

  "No, he didn't," she answered, a cunning Cheshire grin spreading over her face. This should be fun, she thought.

  "Eve, please. Don't tell her the story. I'm sure she's not interested," he pleaded.

  "Actually, I'm very interested," Sophie chimed in gleefully.

  "I've got to tell her. It's one of my favorite memories from our childhood."

  "No. I work with her, for one thing, and it's embarrassing. Please don't," he whined, while still trying to keep his dignity.

  Obviously not listening or caring, Evelyn began, "Our sister Maddy was given her first makeup kit for her thirteenth birthday and we were both dying to try it out."

  Sophie turned to Phillip because he'd groaned and put his head down heavily on the table. Looking back at Eve, they both started laughing hysterically. "This must be good," she cried.

  "Oh, it is," Evelyn laughed, nudging her mourning brother. "Come on, help me out."

  "Fine, if I'm going to have to be here for this, I'd better make sure it gets told correctly. You tend to exaggerate."

  "Do not," Eve charged back.

  "Do too."

  "Not. Well, maybe a little, which is why I need you to help me tell it, okay?"

  Phillip nodded somberly.

  "Great. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, we were dying to try the makeup out and Phillip happened to walk into our room. He was young enough so, at the time, he was excited about it."

  "Well, I was excited because you guys were paying attention to me. I was ignored as a child, and apparently still am."

  "Don't start, Phillip."

  He shook his head. “Go on then."

  "I would if you'd stop pestering me."

  Phillip glared at her, which made Sophie start laughing again. "Phillip, let her tell the story. I really want to hear it."

  Eve went on, "We talk him into it and get the makeup on him. I'm talking foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush and lipstick. The whole nine yards."

  Phillip made another groan, spurring Eve on.

  "Anyhow, he looked so amazing, we decided to take it a step further and put one of my sister’s dresses on him." She glanced sideways at her brother and laughing, continued, "Then we got a pair of my mom's nylons."

  "Which I got in trouble for, by the way," Phillip quipped.

  "Yeah, yeah, my heart's breaking over here," Eve returned.

  "Just finish the story. Put me out of my misery."

  "I’m trying, bro.” Looking at Sophie, she went on, whispering conspiratorially, "Afterward, we had him put on a pair of Maddy's dress shoes and one of my mom's wigs."

  "Another thing I got in trouble for," he lashed out.

  "For the love of all that is good and glorious, would you let me finish this story?"

  "Oh, go ahead, the damage is done. Sophie will never see me the same way again."

  "You're right. I'm starting to like you more and more," she jibed wickedly.

  "Well, there’s something, I guess." He laughed, straightening up.

  "Anyway, once we got him all decked out, we decided he looked too good to keep him to ourselves. We had to show him off to our whole neighborhood."

  "Shut the faculty door. You didn't!" Sophie gasped.

  "Oh, yeah, they did." Phillip moaned.

  "He looked amazing. At his age, he made a great looking young lady."

  "Do you have to go there?"

  "You know I do."

  "What did the neighbors say?" Sophie asked, extremely curious.

  "Well, first you have to understand, he was into it. He had the walk down, and everything."

  "I am an actor, after all," was all he came up with, obviously too embarrassed to think mo
re clearly.

  Sophie laughed, watching him gleefully.

  Eve continued, "Half of them didn't even recognize him. Some asked us who our new friend was, and one little boy went home screaming to his mama."

  "As well he should have," Phillip said, obviously glad the story was over.

  "What a great story Eve. And, who knows, Phillip? Maybe this experience helped you find your calling in the Theater." Sophie tried to be earnest, although her face kept smiling on its own.

  Remembering she'd promised Dr. Bowden she'd call her sister today and the workday was almost over, she changed the subject. "Listen, I need to leave. I've been having such a good time with both of you, but I just remembered, I need to make a personal phone call. I'd better go."

  "Oh?" Eve asked, obviously disappointed.

  "You have to go, or are you just too embarrassed by my past behaviors to hang out with me anymore?" Phillip questioned, smiling. She saw in his eyes he was serious as well.

  "No, I do have to go. It was great, though." Turning to Eve, she continued,

  "It was nice to meet you. Your brother is lucky to have a sister like you."

  "Thank you, Sophie. I agree," she returned, standing, reaching over to hug her. Sophie gingerly hugged her back.

  Eve went on, "We'll have to do this again sometime. I’d love to tell you my second favorite childhood memory." Eve looked over at Phillip, who growled helplessly before looking back at Sophie, continuing, "It involves us tying him up and tickling him with a feather."

  "Eve! As I recall I still need to get you back for that one." He pretended to lunge forward as if he would attack her right there in the mall.

  Eve put up her hands, saying in mock severity, "No way, baby brother, don't come near me. We're in public and we're grown. Get over it." Then she relaxed. “Besides, didn't you know the statute of limitations on getting your sibling back for a childhood prank ended two seconds ago?"

  He chuckled. "We'll see, Eve. We'll see."

  Chapter 14

  "Don't forget to start a journal. I want at least one entry per day by our next meeting. Agreed?" Dr. Hawethorne stated as Sophie walked to the door.

  Sophie turned around and said, "Agreed."

  "Also, remember to take it easy. Do at least three pleasant things for you as well,” Dr. Hawethorne went on more gently.

  "I'll remember. Thanks, Dr. Hawethorne."

  "You’re welcome and please, call me Helen."

  "I'll try," she said, walking out of the office. Sophie was glad to be out of there. It had been a long, emotional hour but a good one. It was refreshing to talk about David with someone who had no preconceived notions about him or, more importantly, her.

  She knew this was right for her and her baby. Also, she liked having someone tell her to do something nice for herself. She'd already decided what she wanted to do.

  She wanted to paint again.

  At the paint store, she bought an easel, some oil and water paints and a few other items she needed. Delightfully, she thought of Phillip when she walked past the brushes, knowing she wouldn't need to buy any of those today. She’d been thinking of him a lot since their conversation, with his sister, in the mall.

  She knew he was handsome and witty, but seeing him with his sister had allowed her to realize he was generous, sincere and funny as well. Very funny, she thought, wishing things were different. She knew having him in her life would be wonderful.

  #

  Sophie spent almost the entire weekend in her favorite room in the house—her art studio. The room had a huge bay window that faced the back on the house, giving her an amazing view of the leaves changing colors on the mountains. Presently, Sophie was seated on her work stool in front of an easel finishing her third painting. She'd hardly slept, her trials over the past several months pouring out of her, and onto the canvas. She had peace in this room among all of its smells, and colors. She loved the room because of the view, but also because of the way it had been decorated.

  Sophie had decided to go with Frank and Ron to decorate her house. Their color choices found a place in her immediately. They seemed to know her better then she knew herself. They’d tapped into her inner joy. The house looked like a Monet painting, a wash of beautiful color. They filled the house with warm yellows, bright greens, light blue and lavender. The furniture was oversized and comfortable.

  In the art studio, though, Frank and Ron had gone the extra mile. It was a large room with a walk-in closet and vaulted ceiling. They had plenty to work with, and they used the space beautifully. The walls were painted sunflower with thick mint green stripes spaced equally throughout, including the closet. On the wall opposite the door, they created a sitting area with an overstuffed couch and chair, a coffee table and two end tables, on each side of the couch.

  Behind the chair stood a large poplar tree, and a lily plant sat sweetly atop the coffee table. The end tables had art magazines positioned decoratively on them. The couch was covered in bright yellow and linen checks while the chair was covered in mint green and linen checks.

  They'd placed pillows of both colors on both pieces of furniture to tie them together. The coffee table and end tables had glass tops, making it look like the magazines and plant were floating.

  Across from the sitting area stood a working fireplace and above both the sitting area and the fireplace, directly in the middle of the room, was a large glass chandelier. It looked like something out of an entryway in a mansion, but it somehow fit perfectly in this room. Frank and Ron put all of her supplies in her closet. Different types of easels, in various shapes, were scattered throughout the room. Exquisite was a good word to describe the room, she thought. Or inspiring.

  "Something every artist needs Rose," she whispered to her unborn child.

  Frank and Ron hadn't hung anything on the walls, explaining they thought she should put her artwork up when she finished them for display. She'd done just as they suggested, hanging one piece above her fireplace and the other above the small desk they'd placed next to her closet. She wasn't quite finished with the third one, but knew where it would go as well--above her couch.

  With darkness creeping in through her window, she knew it was time to leave her favored room.

  You need to eat or take a shower, she mused catching a whiff of her armpits. Giggling, she walked into her bathroom, turned on the water and undressed. Completely naked, she admired her rounding belly in the full-length mirror when she heard a strange noise.

  The noise sounded like it came from the living room, she thought, trying to stay calm. Still frozen in place, though, she listened.

  “Safe and sound,” she retorted, walking over to check the temperature of the water. Looking up, she saw a shadow move past her bathroom door. On instinct, she grabbed a towel and yelled, "Who's there?" When no one answered, she quickly ran into her bedroom and picked up the phone, dialing 911. With her heart beating in her throat, a woman picked up on the other end.

  "911, is this an emergency?"

  "Yes, I think someone is in my house." She spoke frantically, peeking out her bedroom door. Seeing no one, she closed and locked it. She also locked the door connecting her room to the bathroom.

  "Are you hurt?" The woman asked.

  "No, I'm just scared. Can you please send someone?"

  "Yes, madam. What’s your address?"

  Instead of an address, the sound of chirping crickets popped into her head. She couldn't remember her address.

  "Um, I'm not sure. I just moved in not too long ago. Oh, what is it?" she mumbled, trying to find something in her room which might have her address on it. Finally, her memory returned.

  "11815 South 2600 East. In Draper." Sophie noticed her teeth were chattering. Clenching her teeth, she asked, "Are you sending someone?"

  "Yes, madam. May I have your name please?"

  "My name is Sophie. Sophia Berkeley."

  "Thank you, Sophie. My name is Mrs. Capp. I've dispatched a unit to your house. Luckily they were alrea
dy close by. The unit should be there in five minutes."

  "Five minutes," she repeated, walking over to her window, cautiously peeking out. A scream escaped her lips even before she realized it.

  “What is it, Sophie?" Mrs. Capp asked.

  "There's a man running across my front yard," she muttered, terrified. "Hurry! Please, hurry."

  "Sophie, I need you to stay calm. Can you tell me what he looks like?"

  "His hair looks longer but it might be red for all I know. It's too dark outside."

  "Is he going toward a car?"

  "Yes," she answered. "But I can't tell what kind it is. It's too far away." Without warning, a wave of nausea hit her and she ran to the toilet. She heard the woman on the other end asking if she was okay, but couldn't do anything about it. After a few minutes, though, she flushed the toilet and rinsed out her mouth. Finally she said, "Yes. I’m all right. I'm pregnant. Sometimes I get nauseated."

  "Okay, dear, I'm going to dispatch a paramedic as well. Can you hold on for a moment?"

  "Sure." She breathed numbly.

  "I'll be right back."

  She heard the woman speaking to someone about sending a paramedic. She heard her address being read off, then the woman was back on the phone with her.

  "Okay, Sophie, the paramedics are on their way. The officer has informed me they’re pulling into your driveway. Look out your window and tell me if you can see them."

  "Yes, I see the police car," she returned, watching the neon flashing lights.

  "Fine, I'll stay on the line until they get to the door."

  "Okay." She heard an abrupt knock on the door.

  Leaving her room, she opened the front door. "They're here, Mrs. Capp. Thank you."

  "You’re welcome, Sophie. Take care."

  She realized she'd opened the door too quickly, though. The brisk night air and the stunned look on both of the officer’s faces reminded her she wore only a towel.

  "Oh my gosh," she exclaimed, blushing. "I was about to get in the shower when this all happened."

  "It's no problem, madam. I'm Officer Larsen and this is