Page 4 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Chapter Two

Rosie

Rosie wasn't sure, but she thought both she and William were getting pretty good at ignoring the elephant in the room. The giant, scary, Dumbo elephant—Maria—sitting there, sloppy with her vulgar caw, drooling out obscene threats that promised of the nightmares to come. In less than six weeks, a lot less—fourteen days less.

Those first two weeks had gone by in such a flash of picking out décor, repainting and redoing this, that and the other. Not a single thing had been done toward providing space for his mother, and in all honesty, that was mighty fine by her. “We have time,” William said when she tried to broach the subject. “Let’s do something else—something fun. We can tackle that later.”

Yeah, sure. Later. Seemed reasonable. He just needed time to gear up for it. Gear up, wind up and step off the proverbial ledge. That's what she'd been telling herself all this time. But his actions … they said otherwise. The smooth, content way he avoided the Maria elephant had her ready to scratch her skin off.

Had he forgotten? Was all of it so traumatic that he’d slowly blocked it all out? Maybe he had a dream of what was coming, and his brain shoved it all down a bottomless pit in another dimension. Considering his past, it wouldn’t surprise her a bit.

“Earth to Rosie. Come in Rosie.”

Rosie snapped her eyes up and smiled at William who was now sitting across the small table from her, chomping down on breakfast.

“Breakfast? You’re missing a treat there. I’m a bloody good chef,” he said around a mouthful of food and laughed at his arrogant comment.

“That you are.” She pulled her plate to her and inhaled the delicious aroma of fried ham, eggs and her favourite, proper English crumpets slathered with butter.

“What’s on that lovely mind of yours? Ready to tackle the garden yet? Before it gets too wet and all we have is a swamp.” Oh yes, the swamp. He’d warned her about that. He’d warned her about the cold too, but she’d not realised just how damn snappy the air could get. Yesterday, she’d been sure she’d lose her nose to frostbite. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, shovelling more food into his mouth. “Do you think a gazebo would look good at the bottom of the garden? I know it would be next year when we put it in, but think about it, all decorated for Christmas. In the summer, we could have our coffee out there in the peaceful mornings or evenings.” He gave a slight shrug, gathering another bite. “Or do whatever else you might be thinking.”

And there it was, the mask and the Maria exit routine. Like he'd forgotten what it was like in the early morning in his office. Like he'd forgotten his anguish or put it aside.

Despite his avoidance, a laugh escaped her as she visualised Maria, but at the same time, tried to find a way around the formidable wall. “Yeah. I bet your mother …” Rosie sat quietly, drawing a blank at how to finish her sentence. “Would probably hate it,” she finally spluttered, quickly shovelling more food into her mouth. Now who was the one avoiding the elephant? “Mmmmm, William, this is amazing. But you already know that.”

"I made it for you, of course it's amazing. Plus," he said, wiping his knuckles on his shirt like he was polishing them. "I am a world-class chef. Are the eggs okay? Not too dry? I hate cooking with oil."

“Not at all,” she said, diving in for a forkful. “Perfect.” She stared down at her food, praying he’d answer the Maria part of the comment. If he ignored it, she’d have to do something. Time was running out.

“What do you think about getting a dog?”

She looked up to see if he was joking. "Like … a watchdog?"

“A pet. A Labrador or something.” He brought his cup of coffee to his mouth. The intensity of his blue gaze blustered her. Not at all the gaze of a man avoiding the subject she’d dare to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Oh, a pet,” she said, smiling. “Maybe a … seeing eye dog?”

He paused with furrowed brows. "A seeing eye dog? Neither of us is blind.”

“No. Not a seeing eye dog. That was the wrong word. I mean … a dog like that, but you know, for sick people.”

He shook his head with a chuckle and went back to eating. “I suppose if one of us got sick, it would come in handy.”

She gave a light laugh, nodding. "Right. Or if your mom needed a companion, something to keep her company when I'm at work, and you're busy? One of those little annoying yappy dogs."

“Chihuahua,” he said, laughing a little. “I hate those bloody things. They’re like rats that can bark. Except, it isn’t even a bark. It’s just this annoying grating sound. They need drowning.”

Right. Maybe your mother could drown them. In the little stream like she did with your cats. “They’re seriously annoying,” she said, adding several nods, filling her mouth with more food before she blurted out all the Maria things burning her tongue. Rosie yapped like one of the dogs, causing egg to fall out of her mouth.

William’s delighted laughter rang out from her antics, pushing back her shame.

“I would say get a pig, but you’ve got me.”

"Oh, you're no pig, Rosie," he muttered, staring down at his plate, his fork sliding the remaining food slowly. "Now my mother …" he mumbled, his smile fading. "Now, she was a pig."

Rosie's breath held tight in her chest as she watched him. Entirely still and quiet now. God, what was she supposed to say? Encourage him or wait? "We'll need to get lots of feed then."

His confused gaze met hers. “Feed?”

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