Monster Among the Roses

One day actually spanned into two. My five siblings cleaned out pretty much everything that once belonged to Mom. The only things left were her walker, some clothes no one would ever want, and a bunch of broken bakery remains. I did find a chipped cup she used to love to drink from, so I kept that, but everything else, I boxed up and hauled down to the dumpster.

Every time I passed the base of the stairwell where I’d found her, my throat would go dry and my chest would twist with pain. I really needed to move out of this hellhole.

I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I hadn’t received any word that Henry had rescinded any of the loans or bills he’d paid off for my mom, but I hadn’t seen any proof of the opposite either. If I ended up owing him, at least I was free to find a job somewhere that actually paid me so I could attempt to pay him back. I wasn’t tied to taking care of Mom anymore, so I was free to do anything now, though that thought made me feel even crappier. Any hardship would’ve been worth keeping her alive longer.

Besides, without her, I had no purpose. I honestly felt lost, like a wadded-up piece of newspaper drifting in the breeze. It was only a matter of time before someone caught me and threw me into the trash where I belonged.

On Saturday, I fully planned to sit on the couch and drown myself in my misery for the entire day, but I ended up with two visitors. I wasn’t particularly happy to see either, but they both surprised me.

Gloria showed up first, just before noon.

I didn’t want to answer the door. I didn’t feel like being kind or polite to anyone and there was nothing left here for my siblings to take. The only reason I dragged myself from the couch was because I thought it might be Isobel, though I wasn’t too sure I wanted to see her either. I still didn’t have the energy to deal with the kind of talk we needed to have, and my head wasn’t yet in the right place to make decisions about us. But the draw of maybe seeing her again had me opening the door anyway, even as my gut tensed with anxiety.

At first, I didn’t recognize the person in front of me. It took me another minute to realize she was even a woman. Her head was shaved, not just short but completely bald, and her clothes were sagging loose, hanging off her in a bland beige heap, kind of like sackcloth. No makeup lined her lips or eyes. It took her saying my name and me recognizing her voice to realize who she was.

My eyes widened. “Gloria?”

After drawing in a deep breath, she smoothed her hands over her stomach and said, “I know what I did was wrong. But I’m sorry, so see…” She spread her arms to show me her new look. “I did all this to show you the depth of my woe. Now you know I’m not lying when I say how very sorry I am.”

I blinked at her, stared two seconds longer, then said, “You shaved your own head to get me to forgive you?”

She nodded and bit her lip. “Did it work?”

I snorted. “No. That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard of anyone doing,” and I slammed the door in her face.

If only that had run her off.

If only.

She smacked her palms against the door, cursing my name through the wood. Then she yelled, “I thought if I became hideous like her, you’d finally see me.”

Those words hit a trigger. Detonating, I flung open the door and marched out into the hall to loom ominously over her. And she knew she’d said the wrong thing. Her mouth opened to backtrack, but I pointed at her, silencing her.

“Oh, I saw you,” I told her in a deadly calm voice. “I saw you all these years; I just didn’t like you.”

When her eyes filled with horror and her mouth gaped, I shifted closer, making her retreat a fearful step in reverse. “But you didn’t care what I wanted, did you? You never cared what I wanted. If you had, you might not have been such a malicious lying bitch when Isobel walked into that hospital room. You might’ve realized how much I loved her and needed her that day. But no, you only thought about yourself, and you chased her away to fill your own purpose, which destroyed me. You wrecked my life.”

“But I thought you—”

“No!” I roared. “You didn’t think about me at all. You thought about you, how you could step in and pick up the pieces of my poor, pitiful broken heart, then fit me back together into some mold you thought I could fill so I could give you the happily ever after you’ve always wanted. But I can’t. I’m not the man you keep trying to make me, and I don’t want to be.”

Her bottom lip trembled. It only angered me more. I pointed toward the stairwell.

“Get out and never come back. If I ever see you again, I will hurt you in ways you never even knew were possible.” I’d hurt her the way she’d caused me to hurt.

Even though she’d just backed away from me, revealing her fear, she lifted her chin in challenge. “You don’t mean that. You’d never hurt me.”

Oh, yes, I would. Maybe not physically, but if I were ever to hurt any woman, it would’ve been her.

“Get out!” I shouted so loud I caused a couple doors to open down the hall and neighbors to peer out curiously. I stepped toward Gloria, lifting my hands as if to strangle her. “Get out.”

She yelped in fear.

My fingers shook from the force of my rage. “Get off of my floor.”

Gloria skidded a few more feet in reverse.

“Get out of my building.” I started to follow her, the intent clear in my eyes. I wasn’t sure what I actually would’ve done if I caught her, but it was a good thing she retreated, turning away from me and hauling ass toward the stairwell.

“Get out of my life!” I hollered after her.

As soon as the top of her bald head disappeared from view, I added, “And I hope your hair never grows back.”

Less than ten minutes after I slammed my way back into my apartment, another knock came on my door. I was still too hyped up on anger and adrenaline to realize the knock had been far too polite to be Gloria. But I couldn’t think who else it would be, so I stormed forward and threw the door open, ready to tell her how much she disgusted me.

When I came face to face with Henry instead, I faltered, stumbling off balance before I could steady myself. He didn’t seem to notice the fluster he caused. His head had been bowed humbly.

When he lifted his face, he looked regretful. “Shaw,” he murmured, nodding respectfully. “Ezra told me what happened. I’m sorry to hear about Margaret.”

I nodded and let out an unsteady breath. “Thank you, sir.”

I wanted to ask about Isobel, but I wasn’t sure how.

When he held up a hand where my truck keys dangled, silently returning them to me, I wrinkled my eyebrows, confused.

“Go on,” he insisted. “Take them. They were never mine to remove from you, anyway. Isobel’s the one who bought the truck for you.”

My gaze flashed to him, pure shock reverberating through me.

He smiled sadly. “She didn’t want you to know she’d bought you a truck; that’s why we made it look like a work truck from me. She was pissed when I took the keys back. So, here. It’s yours, free and clear. No strings attached.”

Slowly I reached out, taking the keys, even though I wasn’t certain yet whether I was agreeing to keep them or not.

“And…” Henry shuffled uneasily. “If you can forgive me for the way I reacted without finding out the truth first, then our deal is complete. With everything you’ve done at the house, you’ve more than paid me back for the loans I paid off. Besides, with Margaret gone…well, you just don’t owe me anything else. Our agreement is concluded, and your life is your own again.”

I nodded, not sure what to say.

But he shook his head. “The main reason I came here, though, was to thank you.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Thank me?”

“Yes, Shaw, thank you.” He blew out an unsteady breath. “Since I lost my wife and what seemed like my daughter in that fire, I’d felt as if I’d lost myself, too. I thought if only I could be a better person, if I did enough charitable deeds, if I paid my penance for whatever I did wrong to lose them in the first place, I could at least get Izzy back. Year after year, I handed out loans that ended up never paying back, hoping someday, fate would turn back and karma would shine on me again. And then you came into my office.”

He gave me a strange smile. “I never really thought it’d change much to bring you into my home and force you around her, but it did. You were the miracle I’d been waiting for. You brought my daughter back.”

I started to shake my head, unable to accept that kind of credit, but he gripped my shoulder and nodded. “You did. I’m not sure how you did it, but she’s a different person now, not exactly the teenage girl I lost all those years ago, but a lovely, amazing adult version of her. And no matter what happens from here on out, I wanted you to know I’m grateful for those few weeks you gave me of her true, genuine smile. I’d never seen her happier than she was with you.”

Agony and bittersweet memories of Isobel’s smile sluiced through me. I nearly double over from the waves.

Henry kept watching me as if wanting me to say I was over my pain and anger and I was ready to forgive her and move on, but I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what I felt. I was still so lost and confused.

“She really hurt me,” I admitted.

He nodded, not denying it. “I know. She messed up. Just like we’re all prone to do. Her mistake wasn’t intended to hurt you, though, it just ended up that way. She loved you the whole time and loves you now. Plus, she’s sorry for what she did, and I believe she’s fully learned her lesson.”

Of course her father would say that and side with her, but his words affected me, anyway. I knew she’d never had any evil intent. I’d always known that. And no one was perfect. But…

Dammit. I didn’t know what the but was. It seemed like there should be one, except I couldn’t think up what it would be. I either pulled myself together and forgave her, or…or what? Never forgave her? Never saw her again? Never kissed her again? Lived the rest of my life without her?

All because of one mistake that had hurt my feelings?

A mistake I was sure she’d never repeat.

When I met her father’s gaze, he nodded, realizing what conclusion I’d come to. A small smile lit his face. “I’ll see you soon,” was all he said before he turned away and left me to come to terms with what I’d decided.

It took me another day before I showed up at the front gate of Porter Hall and pressed the button, seeking entrance.

When the gate slowly slid open, I swear, it felt as if I was being admitted into heaven.

I drove up the lane and parked on the circle drive in front of the door where Henry stepped outside to greet me.

Patting my back when I reached him, he nudged me toward the house. “She’s in the library.”

I tripped away from him before I could catch my footing. Spotting Constance, Lewis and Mrs. Pan peering around a corner at me, I waved when they shot me grins and signs of encouragement. When I noticed the cook and groundskeeper were holding hands, I picked up my pace, jogging through the house until I’d made my way to the library. Happily every afters could be reached, and I was going to grab mine with both hands.

When I stepped inside and saw her sitting on the sofa, staring at the bookshelves we’d made together, my breath caught in my throat.

My legs suddenly went shaky.

So I hobbled the last few feet forward and sat next to her on the couch. She didn’t acknowledge me but she knew I was there. I licked my lips and glanced around at the library, remembering all the work we’d put into it, all the hours we’d spent together, getting to know each other, falling for each other. And I was freshly amazed by how good of a job we’d done. We made an excellent team. We could make an excellent team for a long time to come if we were willing to try.

And it just so happened I was.

“It’s strange to think this room looked totally different only a few months ago. Feels like years ago.”

Isobel nodded slowly. “It does,” she agreed quietly.

Reaching out, I took her hand without looking at her. Her fingers wrapped around mine before she squeezed lightly. I squeezed back.

Finally, she said, “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here because you’re here.”

“But…” She shook her head. “How can you ever forgive me?”

I shrugged. “How can I not? I love you. Love forgives. It works through problems. And it stays.”

“Oh God.” She began to sob, her shoulders shaking, chest heaving, and tears pouring. “I love you, too.”

I pulled her into my arms. She curled onto my lap and cried into my shoulder, gripping me as if she’d never let me go again. I hoped she didn’t.

“I missed you,” I admitted into her hair.

She sniffed and nodded. “I missed you too.” Hiding her face as if ashamed to face me, she added, “I don’t deserve this. You…you shouldn’t forgive me. You have every right to hate me. I—”

“Shh.” I stroked her hair. “I could never hate you. Besides, you did nothing wrong.”

“I believed her. Then I refused to get the truth from you. If only—”

“If only,” I cut in. “Jesus, there are a million if onlys I could’ve done to prevent any of this from happening in the first place. It’s enough to drive me insane. But none of that matters because it’s over and done, in the past now. We found our way back together and that’s all that counts.”

“But you had to deal with your mom’s death alone. You had to…you had no one.”

“Do I have you now?” I asked. “Will you help me through it now?”

She pulled back to look up at my face. Tears clogged her long lashes. “Of course.”

I smiled. “Good. That’s what I want too. We’ll deal with the rest as it comes.”

“I love you,” she breathed.

And the world was back to where it should be.