“Myrna, is that correct?”
She knew she was in trouble. How did he learn her name? She had refused to give him her name and now fire was coming out of his beautiful hazel eyes. The lines around his mouth were very pronounced making him look unreachable. In the past, he had always had a friendly smile for her. Not this time. She was scared at the irritation she saw in his beautiful facial expressions. She started backing away as she asked, “Yes, how did you learn my name?”
He immediately reached for her hand. He was being gentle but firm when he held her. His tone of voice gave a different message; “Sweetheart, your name is all over the news along with your picture and your friend’s name.” he exploded.
She looked at him not knowing what to do, and then she tried to dislodge herself from his grasp and run. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her flush against him. She knew she was in trouble. All men were the same, and she did not think she could run this time. He pulled her inside the café with him. “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.” He heard her say. Ashamed of himself he immediately let go of her.
“Do not think about running, you need to explain to me what happened in that penthouse. I don't like trouble, and you have put me in the middle of it. Perhaps we can figure a way out of this, and no, I am not planning on hurting you, not yet anyhow.” Bobby did not know why he had added the comment at the end. He had never hurt a woman in his life, and he was not planning on ever doing it. He had three younger sisters whom he adored, and no matter how much they had pestered him, he could never hurt them. Every time he looked at their eyes, he remembered the first time he held each one of them. He loved them so much, and if a man ever laid a hand on them, he would make sure he regretted the day he was born.
He looked at this beautiful European girl, and he knew he had to help her. She might have killed a man, but somehow he did not sense a mean bone in her body or a malicious thought in her head. “I have all night. Begin talking and start at the beginning.” He turned giving her his back. If she was the kind to hurt someone, this was her chance. He took two cups from the shelf and moved to the coffee pot. The whole time, not looking at her. He knew that she was sitting right next to the knife he was using to cut the meat for the next day. If she was a killer, he was ready.
Myrna looked at her surroundings. She was trying to figure out if she could make it to the door, but she knew she could not outrun this man. There were two doors, and one of them led to the front of the café. She knew that door would be locked. For her to get to the other door, she had to run past him. There was no way she could make it.
She took a deep breath and began telling him every bit of her story. How they had saved money to come to the States, and how long they had looked for a company to sponsor them. How every Au Pair Company was so far out of their price range, they felt their dreams were unreachable. They continued to save money, but every time they found a company, their savings was never enough. When they found this particular company (Global International) for half the price, they jumped at the opportunity to come. They had paid without giving it a second thought. They were so very excited to come work here taking care of children, and were looking forward to attending school. Their plan had never been to take care of men.
Bobby listened intently, and he believed her. He was trying to figure out who he knew that would be able to help them. He had never broken the law, not even a traffic infraction. He understood their fear of cops and of being convicted. His church family had gone on many mission trips and he had heard many stories of how repressive everything was overseas. Even though police were supposed to investigate each case until they were sure they had the guilty party behind bars, he knew from listening to his police friends, that they were so overworked that once they got their suspects, they stopped looking further. In most cases, it would be declared a solved case without looking for any other guilty party. He believed Myrna to be innocent, he had given her a chance to run and had even given her a weapon and she had not even looked at the knife.
“This is what we are going to do,” he said, “I have an apartment upstairs. It is a one bedroom with a bathroom. I live there.” At his words, she panicked and begun looking for an escape route again. He wanted to beat himself over the head. He felt so stupid. He raised his hand, “Wait a minute, not like that. You and your friend can take the bed, I will sleep on the sofa. Is that okay with you?”
“You are going to help us? And you do not want . . .” As she spoke, her face was turning all kinds of shades of red and she was holding her hands so tight together, they were turning white for the lack of circulation.
“Yes, I am going to help you, and no, I do not want . . .” he smiled. This girl was so innocent; she could not even say the word sex without turning red. She had not even said it and she was as red as a beet.
“Now we need to go get your friend. Where is she?” He continued.
“She is very scared. I am too, but I’ll show you.”
When they got to the condemned home in the worst part of town, he decided he needed to bring this to the attention of his pastor. His church was always looking for mission opportunities. They did not need to go far to find one. This place was a dump. It was dirty with trash all over the place and broken bottles on the floor. It stunk of feces and urine, and the smell of marijuana was enough to get him high, if they did not hurry. Myrna guided him to a door in the back of the building. She knocked in a rhythm that got the attention of someone on the other side of the door. He heard a shy voice, “Who is it?”
“It’s Myrna, open up.”
Bobby had never been so happy to get out of a place, as he was to get out of there. He had all these people starring at him.
He was surprised they had not tried to rob him.
At his apartment, he helped the girls settle in and wondered what kind of trouble he was getting himself into.
“Listen girls, I hate to say this, but you cannot go to the window, or walk out of here until we find someone to help us. Your faces are all over television, billboards and Internet. They are offering such a large reward that your own mother would turn you in. You understand?”
Both girls were quiet, but nodded.
“Do not open the door for anyone, I’ll bring you food.”
Let each of you lookout only to his own interests,
but also to the interests of others.
Philippians 2:4
Chapter 13
Within five days of the funeral, Rosalyn had packed the house, placed it on the market to be sold, and moved Mariah to her small apartment. She gave Mariah her room, and she slept on the sofa. Rosalyn figured this was the best she could do until she found better arrangements.
Rosalyn had not realized how empty her life had been until now. Why had she chosen to live so far from home? Her parents were not the enemy, and poor Mariah, she was an innocent. The fault had been hers. If she had not lied nothing would have happened.
The next day after they arrived at the apartment, Alana woke up early as usual. “Good morning, what are you doing on the sofa? What time did you make it in?"
Rosalyn opened her eyes slowly, hoping that the recent events were just a nightmare. Her parents were dead, and her daughter had moved in with her. She was responsible for another person. She could not pawn it off on someone else anymore. She could not run anymore. She looked at her friend and knew that she had to face the facts.
How wonderful it would be to look as lovely and carefree as her friend? Alana was the only person she knew who could look beautiful and feminine wearing flannel pajamas, no makeup, and those silly Minnie Mouse slippers she liked to wear. Rosalyn took a deep breath; she did not know how to break the news. “Alana, there is something I need to tell you, do you have time?”
Alana flopped on the sofa next to Rosalyn, “I think so, I don't know. I have not had my coffee, yet. Is it important? I guess it is, since you never want to talk.”
Rosalyn smiled at her friend's inner dialogue.
She was used to Alana, and knew that it was normal for her to speak without even taking a breath, especially early in the morning, but she still wondered how her friend would react at the news. “I have a daughter.”
“Ok, that’s nice.” She started getting up, and then flopped down, her eyes as big as saucers, and she screeched, “You have a what?”
“Sorry I didn't tell you before, it just never came up.”
Alana could not help it, she was squealing, “We have lived together for about four years and you are telling me that this never came up? When am I going to meet her? Do I get to meet her? How old is she? What is her name? Oh, my gosh! This is so exciting. It IS exciting, isn’t it?” she finished hesitantly.
"Yes, you get to meet her." As she said that, the bedroom door opened up slowly and out came a very sleepy Mariah.
Alana jumped up from the sofa completely awake now, the coffee forgotten. She ran to Mariah and embraced her. "Oh my goodness! This is her, right? It is so nice to meet you. I am Alana, and your mom and I have been friends for a long time. It is so good to meet you. Oh! Rosalyn, she is beautiful. She looks like you, other than your eyes of course. Yours are green and hers are brown.” Alana knew there was a story and she perceived that there was so much pain involved. She felt sorry for this young girl and wanted to make her feel welcome, but how? She probably had gone overboard as usual. Then she remembered...I have to tell her, maybe after breakfast. She felt so guilty because she suspected she was going to abandon her friend when Rosalyn most needed her.
Rosalyn took care of the formalities and then said she had to go get ready. In the bathroom, under the force of the shower hitting her, she cried until there was no more hot water left. Alana had not known her daughter, but she managed to make her feel welcomed. I am making a mess of things. I have not even hugged my daughter, thought Rosalyn, and her grandparents died. She has received hugs from everyone and their neighbor, but not from me. What kind of mother am I? What kind of human being am I, that I cannot even show compassion to my child?
Rosalyn had shown Mariah where the food was, and had gone out. She was not trying to avoid her daughter, she just needed to take care of completing her tasks: find the best school and a house to rent. She needed to speak with Alana. She hoped that Alana would want to move with them. She seemed to like Mariah and now she needed her friend more than ever.
Mariah found herself emotionally lost. A week after the accident, she had moved in with her mother, an absentee mother, and a mother that filled the role of an acquaintance or a distant aunt, more than that of a mother. For the first time in her life, she had been in her mother's apartment, a very Spartan apartment from what she could see. How could anyone live like this? She barely had a place to sit, and just a small television decorated the living area. Mariah never felt she had been overly spoiled, but her mother lacked so many of the comforts in life, but it seemed to Mariah that her mother lacked companionship more than anything else. She had tried holding a conversation with her mother several times and all she got out of it were yes and no responses. She had never felt this lonely in her life. She missed her grandparents so much. She missed her home. She missed her room.
The room that Rosalyn had given her had a small twin bed and nothing else. Where was she going to put her things? Mariah had not been invited for a tour, so she had not seen Rosalyn or Alana's rooms. She suspected that it would be as plain as everything else. Moving in with her mother was going to be an adjustment. An adjustment, she did not think she was ready for. She wanted her life back, her friends and her school.
Mariah wondered when Rosalyn would make the time to enroll her in school. She spent her days crying, reading, sleeping and crying some more. Every evening, Rosalyn brought takeout, and Mariah had a choice of cereal and frozen meals for the rest of the day. When they had sat down to eat, Rosalyn had not spoken, and neither had Mariah. If Alana was present during dinnertime, she filled the awkward silence with nonstop chatter. The two friends were as opposite as water and oil. Mariah spent the time quiet. She did not know how she fitted with them. It had been awkward at first, but then, she accepted it as part of life. She missed her grandparents, and the void in her life caused by their absence made her so very lonely.
Rosalyn had loved her daughter from the very first. She had dreamed of holding her and loving her. The very first time she felt her move in her womb, Rosalyn had been so excited, but at that moment she had decided that she was not good enough for her baby. She did not deserve a beautiful child and she would have given her up to be adopted by a nice family if it had not been for her parents, who had fallen in love with her immediately. She loved her parents so much she gave them Mariah.
Since it had not worked as she had planned, she had decided to protect her daughter from her dirtiness by keeping her distance. She could not afford to be close to her daughter. She would just mess it all up. Mariah deserved a chance at a good life and Rosalyn could not allow Mariah to fall in love with her. Rosalyn had tried so hard to protect her baby from herself.
She would have liked to be closed to her, to see her grow up, and to observe the changes she went through, as she transformed from a baby to a young woman. Her parents had not understood that she was trying to shelter her baby from her sin. She was not a good example for her daughter. They had not respected her views, so she had to move away. The pain was too much.
She had wanted to protect Mariah, but she also wanted to protect herself. If she got to close to Mariah, she would hurt and disappoint her like she had done with her parents. If she allowed herself to become attached to Mariah, she knew her daughter would resent her lack of motherly skills. So she had allowed her mother to take over.
The first time she had held Mariah had been the most painful for her. At the hospital she had refused to see her, but at home, living under the same roof had made it difficult to avoid. Her dad had been at work and her mother had been fertilizing her rose garden with cow manure, when Mariah had woken up. For a week old baby, she had very strong lungs. Rosalyn was sure that if she didn't do something the neighbors were going to come and check on them. Rosalyn got the bottle ready, and had to hold Mariah to feed her. It was just she and Mariah, she had cried the whole time, while feeding her daughter.
She cried for herself. She remembered the horrible evening and how frighten she had been. She cried because she felt relieved and in wondered that something this beautiful and poor was the result of all that evilness. She cried because she had been stained and she did not want to mar Mariah.
There had been other times when she had to deal with Mariah, and she had pretended that Mariah was a child they were babysitting. She did not want to get attached to her daughter because she felt she wasn't good enough for her. Mariah was so sweet; Rosalyn felt her defenses collapsing and her heart begin to melt every time. Her resolve to protect her daughter also crumbled and it frightened her. Her solution had been to stay away. She knew that her daughter needed a good mother, but Rosalyn knew that her failures would come back to haunt her. She did not deserve to be anyone's mother.
Now she had no choice, she needed to make the best decisions for her daughter and try to do her best as a mother. She had two goals: find a good school and provide a nice house for her daughter. She deserved the best, so instead of going to work, she had gone to look for schools and their neighborhoods. She hoped that she had the wisdom to choose wisely. She truly wanted to rectify her mistakes. She loved her daughter and regretted her past decisions.
She met with a realtor, and visited plenty of schools. She also had driven by a seemingly insurmountable number of neighborhoods, until finally she found the right middle and high school. After the schools had been decided, she had found the perfect house.
Their new house was in an affluent suburban area. The neighborhood was clean and friendly. The house she had liked had been for sale. She had to beg to be allowed to rent it for a year. Afterwards, she would either have to buy it or move. She intended
to buy it. It had been a little challenging, because it had been above and beyond her budget, but Rosalyn figured that if she shared the rent with Alana and received a big enough increase in salary at the new job, they would be able to afford it. She had signed the contract.
Rosalyn wondered about Mariah. Would she be happy about going to the best school in town? The house she had chosen was so much bigger than her parents’ house had been. Would Mariah like it? She hoped so. The house had three bedrooms, a great room with a fireplace at the center, a state of the art kitchen, and her favorite was the huge yard and a pool right outside the porch. Those things should make Mariah happy.
When Rosalyn had lived at home, she had loved to cook, and her parents had encouraged her to do it. Smiling, she remembered that her love for science had come from mixing ingredients in the kitchen. Sometimes the meals were scrumptious, other times they were not. No matter what, her parents had always encouraged her in all her adventures. If the food was good everyone enjoyed it, it was eaten with gusto. If the food was inedible, her parents waited for her to make the first move toward the trash. Once she declared that the food was awful, it was pizza time. Her mom and dad had been so good to her.
She realized that she knew nothing about her daughter. Did she cook? She needed to develop a relationship with Mariah; she so desperately wanted to build memories with her daughter.
Rosalyn had gotten home excited, and could not wait to share her news with the girls. She had found the perfect house and the perfect neighborhood. Now she knew things were going to work out for all of them. They could move in there immediately; things were going to be great.
“Alana, Mariah, guess what I’ve been doing all day!” Squealed Rosalyn as she walked in the apartment. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“I don’t know, but we need to talk,” responded Alana in a more somber tone. She had been putting it off and now was dreading what she had to say.
Second Chances: The Power of Renewal Page 6