Nocere

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Nocere Page 23

by Max Ellendale


  I nodded and set the bowl down beside us before curling up against her again. She wrapped me in a hug before kissing my forehead. "Tired?"

  "Very." I yawned and glanced to Nora who offered me a smile. She reached her hand out to me, and I glanced to Caroline who offered me a faint nod. I took her hand and she gave me a gentle squeeze before letting me go. Sam smiled and ran her fingers through my hair.

  "You know, Rosie. It's very special for Nora tonight. She hasn't agreed to share a scene with anyone for a long time. She appreciates you and feels safe." Samirah explained Nora's motivations as if she could read her mind. Nora's soft smile remained as she snuggled with Caroline.

  "If you ladies decide to crash here tonight, I solemnly swear to make piles of pancakes in the morning." Caroline lifted her hand in a Girl Scout salute that made us laugh.

  "What do you say, my sweet?" Sam poked my nose. "Stay or go?"

  "Go, please." I kissed her neck and she smiled with her lips against my cheek.

  "Are you sure?" asked Caroline. "It's really late."

  "Our own bed is much more comfortable," said Sam when I leaned back again.

  Nora offered me the tiniest pout and it made me chuckle. "Sorry, Nora."

  "All the pancakes for me then." She wagged her brows at Caroline who grinned.

  "You know it."

  "C'mon, sleepy baby. Let's get ourselves together," said Sam, and I followed her lead.

  My thoughts remained quiet and calm for the duration of the night, though a part of me wondered when they'd return with force. Would I regret our night or would it be something I wanted to do again? For now, I didn't know. All I knew was I never wanted Sam to let me go. I wanted her to hold me all night, and let me snuggle her. I wanted to feel the safety and warmth she offered me every day, and mostly, I never wanted any of it to end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Anita is good to you?" Samirah asked while on our way to Anita's office in Olympia.

  "She always has been. Are you being a protective doctor now, honey?" I grinned at her while she cocked a brow at me, her eyes on the road.

  "I am. Some doctors are assholes."

  "She's always been really kind and sensitive to me. Though when I tell her I haven't taken any meds in over a month, I'm not sure how she'll feel about that."

  "You haven't?" Sam glanced at me and I shook my head.

  "It's just anxiety meds. I haven't been anxious in a way I couldn't manage." I shrugged and she gave my knee a supportive squeeze.

  "I'd like to talk about last night. Would you do that with me?" she asked, her voice tentative.

  "Yes. Always."

  Sam took a deep breath, her hand held out to me. I took it, squeezing her fingers with mine. "We haven't talked about it and you haven't mentioned it. Are you okay with everything that happened?"

  "Of course, Sam. Everything we did I was an active part of," I told her, truthfully. "Do you feel differently?"

  "No. You were just so quiet about it, I wasn't sure."

  "It was erotic and different and surprising." I dropped my head back against the seat while stroking my thumb over her knuckles. "And I understand what scene means now."

  "Would you do that again?" Her gaze flickered in my direction.

  "Yes, but Sam, couldn't we just do that alone? Just the two of us?"

  "Of course." Now a smile curved her lips. "Really?"

  "Yes." My face heated with my declaration. "Like Caroline with Nora, just us."

  "You'd like that?"

  I nodded and bit my bottom lip. "I like when you talk to me like that… I just like how it makes me feel."

  "What does it feel like to you?"

  "Like for once, I'm in control of my body and how I want to use it. Like I'm allowing you to make me feel good. Like everything is my choice. Everything, Samirah. All of it."

  "It is, baby. That's why I like it, too. It doesn't take away from my adoration of our lovemaking; don't ever confuse it for that." She stroked my cheek and I leaned into it.

  "I won't." I turned and kissed her fingers. "How come you wouldn't let me touch you after everything?"

  "I don't like getting off in front of other people. I mean, I did, but not actively. I'd rather you touch me in private," she said, and when we rolled to a stop at a red light, she kissed my hand half a dozen times.

  "I understand that. You're the only person I've ever been with who I've spoken to so candidly about sex. Every other person I was ever with just…it wasn't anything. This...with you, is everything."

  "I feel like that, too." She held her arm to me and I scooted closer to hug her. She kissed my cheek and I released her when the light turned green again. "We still have half an hour to go. Are you hungry?"

  "Starving. Can we get egg sandwiches?" I snickered and she nodded, a grin forming on her maroon lips.

  "You bet."

  "Hoorah."

  We arrived at Anita's with fuller bellies, and lighter hearts. Instead of sitting in the car, Sam hung out in the waiting room, and her protectiveness made me feel valued in a different way than I was used to.

  "Where would you like to sit today, Rosie?" Anita asked, her tone as gentle as always as she gestured between the sofa and her desk. She always gave me the choice, every session, as she'd done for many years.

  "Um...sofa is okay today," I said, and she gestured for me to sit.

  She took the space in the armchair across from me, and adjusted her blazer as she sat. Anita's blonde hair mirrored the tone of mine save for her beach-wave curls. Her kind, gentle demeanor soothed me, and created the safe space I appreciated. She wasn't like my other doctors and therapists over the years. There was something genuine about her that the others lacked.

  I spent some time catching her up on the past month or so, including introducing her to Sam's entry into my life.

  "It sounds like Sam is a different relationship for you," she reflected, a soft smile on her face while she leaned her chin on her hand.

  "She is." I nodded, smiling while I thought about her. "She's waiting for me outside."

  "Is she?"

  I nodded again. "She's a doctor, too. So naturally, she's suspicious of your abilities."

  Anita chuckled, a single brow lifting with it. "Well, I hope you give me a favorable review."

  "You know it. I have to tell you something though. Two things," I said, nervousness tightening my gut.

  "This is a safe place, Rosie. You can talk about whatever you like."

  "Okay…" I searched in my purse and pulled out the prescription bottle with both our names on it. "I haven't taken any of these in a long time." She accepted the bottle when I handed it to her and turned it over in her palm.

  "Did you have any side effects when you stopped it?"

  "No. I didn't take it every day." I bit my bottom lip. "Is it okay to not take it?"

  "Of course, Rosie. Clonazepam is meant to help with anxiety and panic. If you're not having that, your need for it is less. Have you felt less anxious?" She handed me back the bottle and I held it in my lap.

  "Yes. If I am, I feel like I can handle it. I think Sam has helped. She's taught me a lot and my confidence is better."

  "I'm very happy to hear that, Rosie." Anita smiled, folding her hands in her lap. "I have an idea, perhaps."

  "Okay." I gestured for her to continue.

  "Why don't we change your medicine to PRN or as needed? That way, you still have it if you need it, but don't feel the pressure to take it every day."

  "Okay." I agreed right away and met her gaze again. "We can do that."

  "If you end up taking it daily for more than a few days, please call me and don't stop it abruptly, all right?" Her forehead wrinkled with her question.

  "Okay. I won't."

  "Remember you can have withdrawal symptoms if you do that."

  "I remember." For some reason, her caution always came across as caring rather than speculative or untrusting. I appreciated it.

  "Good. I'm happy to hear
that you're doing better managing your anxiety."

  "Thanks." I smiled and tucked the bottle back into my purse.

  "What was the other thing you'd like to discuss?"

  "My birth mother is up for parole," I blurted out without any warm up. "I got letters asking me to appear at the parole hearing. To say why I don't want her released. Rebecca said she would get an advocate to do it."

  "But part of you wants to face her and tell her how you feel?" Anita's single raised brow gave life to my inner battle that I hadn't spoken much about.

  "Yeah." I toyed with the leather handle of my bag.

  "Have you had any flashbacks or memories lately?" Anita asked, her question delicate.

  "No flashbacks or nightmares. Sometimes I remember things. I remember what those men did to me. I remember telling myself that I had to remember everything because when the police got them, I had to be able to tell all the details. I was like nine and remembered telling myself that. My grandmother let me watch crime shows when she was alive. I knew I had to give good details."

  "That forethought helped you process what happened to you," she reflected and I nodded my agreement.

  "Yes. And it helped. All of them got in trouble. Went to jail; some of them died. Rebecca helped me. She saved me." Emotions bubbled in my chest and my eyes welled up right away. "The memories that bother me the most is me standing there, listening to my mother bargain with each man. Negotiating my price. All of them, even though they were horrible pedophiles, treated me better than my mother. They took my hand and led me away. And I remember looking back at her, sitting there on the sofa, counting her bills or her heroin bags, pleading with her to just look at me. To change her mind and come save me." I sniffled as I let everything tumble from my lips. "She never did."

  Anita sat quietly, allowing me space and time to talk out what I needed to.

  "I remember thinking, this one man, he didn't touch me once. He only made me pose for pictures. I wasn't fully naked in any of them. He let me have a warm bath, he made me dinner, and gave me a nice dress." I snatched a tissue from the coffee table and dabbed at my eyes. "I remember thinking that I wished he was my father because he was kind and he cared about me more than my mother did. I knew what he was doing. I was twelve and not stupid. But that was better than the other men my mother sent me off with. If this man wanted to take care of me and just take pictures, I would be okay with it."

  "What do you think about it now?"

  "He was just as sick as everyone else. And that I was sick for even thinking that. But a desperate kid is going to think what a desperate kid is going to think." I wiped my nose and drew in a deep breath. "He left me alone in the hotel. That's when I called Rebecca the first time."

  "What was it like when she showed up there?" Anita guided me through the memories as she always did.

  A smile broke my tears as I remembered Rebecca kicking in the hotel room door. Her hair a wind-swept mess, her face a mix of horror and relief when she saw me. "She rushed into the room and swept me into her arms while a bunch of other cops stormed in. I never hugged someone so tight in my whole life. I hold on to that moment. She still hugs me like that. She loves me. I have a family. Steve and Jason love me. It's everything I've ever wanted."

  We paused for a moment, until Anita asked, "What do you want to say to your biological mother, Rosie?"

  "That she was never my mother. That I have a good family of which she doesn't deserve to be a part of." The surge of bravery broadened my shoulders and I met Anita's gaze.

  "Then tell her that." Anita leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "You have a voice now."

  "Yeah. I do."

  My session with Anita ended with me talking more about Sam and our evolving relationship. She offered nothing but support, and her warm regard to my excitement lifted me up. When we ended, she walked me to the door as always.

  "Do you want to meet her?" I asked Anita.

  "Do you want me to meet her?" Anita's mouth twitched as if she fought a smirk.

  "Asking questions back at me, Anita." I huffed at her. "Of course."

  She laughed and nodded. "Then yes. I will meet her."

  "Good, because it was going to happen anyway."

  I opened the door and Sam stood up the moment she saw me. Relief flooded her features and she smiled when I made for her. She hugged me right away and I kissed her cheek. "Anita wants to meet you."

  "Okay, baby," she whispered and took my hand after we parted. Anita stepped into the hall, a cordial smile plastered on her face as always as she extended her hand. "Samirah. Good to meet you."

  "Samirah?" Anita's expression tensed for a split second as they shook hands. "Lovely name."

  "My parents deserve the credit," said Sam, her brow furrowed just the same. "You look familiar."

  "I'm on staff at Providence," answered Anita as they released each other. "And U.W. Medical before that."

  "Oh." Sam perked up. "I've worked at both. Anesthesiology."

  "Ah." Anita smiled now, her concern seeming to fade. "That explains it."

  "These formal doctor introductions are a little intimidating, I have to admit," I chimed in and they both chuckled.

  "It's good to know that Rosie has good supports," said Sam, her arm sliding around my waist. She continued to observe Anita, however, her gaze speculative.

  "It is, indeed." Anita smiled and met my gaze again. "See you soon?"

  "Yes. Thank you." I waved to her as she bid us farewell and turned to Sam. Anita returned to her office, leaving us to it as we headed out.

  Right away, Sam brushed her thumbs over my cheeks. leaned into her touch and she pulled me into a hug.

  "I'm okay," I told her as I kissed her neck.

  "I can tell when you've been crying…"

  "I can tell when you've been crying, too." I tucked her hair behind her ears and brushed my thumb over her bottom lip.

  "Do you like Christmas?" she asked, seemingly out of left field.

  "I do. Yes."

  "Before we go to Stella's, would you come with me to the Festival of Christmas Trees in Seattle?"

  "Rebecca took me once when I was a kid." I smiled at her suggestion, lacing my fingers behind her neck. "Yes. I would go with you."

  "The crowd won't bother you, baby? I mean, it might not be crowded."

  "Sam, I've learned that as long as I'm with you, nothing bothers me too much."

  She caught me in a kiss that lifted me to my toes. My smile ended our connection and she said, "C'mon, my sweet. Let's go see the pretty things."

  Sam and I spent most of the afternoon waltzing through the dozens of decorated Christmas trees, and imbibing in the spirits of music and lights. We held hands, sipped hot cocoa with marshmallows, and shared cookies on our walk through the holiday market. Sam's quiet, reflective nature mirrored mine as we enjoyed our time together. We paused to look at handmade ornaments, and she smiled at a few dazzling snowmen.

  "You like them?" I asked and she nodded. "I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas, honey."

  "I don't. But you do." She pressed her lips to my temple.

  "Sounds to me like you want to celebrate it, but don't." I plucked the sparkly snowman off the display and toted it over to the woman selling them. She smiled at me and began ringing me up.

  "Hey." Sam scurried after me. "What are you doing?"

  "Buying this for you."

  "Why?" Her eyes widened when the woman handed me the little wrapped snowman after I gave her some cash.

  "Because you like it." I held the ornament out for her to take, meeting her gaze as her eyes misted over with emotions she often kept at bay.

  She accepted it, her fingers wrapping around it in a slow, careful grip. "Thank you, Rosie."

  "You're welcome." I rose to my tip-toes to kiss her softly.

  When we parted, her smile and sparkling eyes spoke volumes more than her words ever did. I glanced over to the woman selling her wares and she wore a grin while helping another customer who a
pproached, though I noted she tore her gaze away from us a second before.

  "C'mon. Let's look around some more." I took Sam's hand and she gave my fingers a squeeze.

  ***

  "No, Rosie is playin' with me!" Luna gave Nova such a rough shove that the six-year-old's rump landed on the carpet.

  "Luna!" she shrieked, her mouth hanging open in shock.

  "Hey now." I took hold of Luna's arm before she could lay into her sister again. "Rosie doesn't play with anyone who pushes their sisters. Go have a seat over there for a timeout, Luna. That wasn't nice." I pointed to the little bench that her moms perched beside the window. Luna stomped over, a huge pout on her lips, and plopped down.

  "Santa saw that," Nova muttered when Luna scowled at her. Luna's eyes widened and she didn't complain about her timeout.

  "Well," announced Alice as she stalked over. "Looks like bedtime is upon us."

  "But Momma." Nova dropped into my lap. "We didn't finish our game."

  Luna flailed in her seat, but didn't say anything as she stared at the luscious silver and white decorations on their aromatic Christmas tree. It made the whole living room smell of fresh pine.

  I hugged Nova gently, then rubbed her back when she started to pout. "We can play again next time I visit."

  "Okay," she said, letting out a sigh of resignation. She stood up and glanced back at me with a pout. "G'night, Rosie."

  "Good night, Nova." I waved to her as her pajama-clad feet padded down the hall.

  "And you, little naughty." Alice swept Luna off her timeout bench and tossed her over her shoulder. "Say good night and do it nicely."

  Luna giggled and waved with both hands. "Good night nicely!"

  I chuckled and waved back before pushing myself up to stand. When I made for the kitchen, Samirah, Vee, and Scarlett all watched me with amused smiles. My cheeks reddened as I made my way back to them after a reprieve to play with the kids.

  "You're amazing with kids, Rosie," said Vee, her kind smile unwavering.

  "Thanks. Been around a lot of them." I leaned into Sam when she held her arm to me.

  "Ever think about having children?" asked Scarlett, her eyes twinkling while she leaned her chin on Vee's shoulder, both of them holding a glass of red wine.

 

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