Page 80 of Kiss From A Rose

CHAPTER 31

Rose

Malou lived through the New Year.

Thomas joined us for New Year’s Eve dinner and to toast the year with champagne in Malou’s room. She gave it her all but I knew as she did, her time was almost up.

I stayed with her that night, and we talked like we did when we were kids, hiding out in her trailer or mine—escaping our abusive, strung-out parents and building castles in the air.

"You remember that Christmas when I stole money from my father?" Malou said huskily.

"Yeah. We went to Denny's and had a big meal."

She chuckled. "Chicken fried steak. Fuck, Rose, I can't even eat my favorite things no more."

We were lying on our sides, the bedside lamp softly glowing so we could see each other.

"I know," I murmured.

"Gray says he's gonna live here with you."

"So, he says! But he's gonna hate it and then he’s gonna hate me."

"Stop, Flower Girl." Malou managed to glower even in her weakened state. "I couldn't have imagined saying this, but the man loves you. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, Rose. And your kids. Fuck, they're the cutest. Jude talked to me before he left. Hugged me. Called me Aunt Malou."

I touched her cheek. "I'm so sorry this happened so late."

"Be happy it happened. I am."

"I love you, Malou."

"Love you, too, Flower Girl."

That was our last conversation. Malou slipped into a delirious sleep during the night. When she woke up, she was incoherent, barely conscious.

Thomas stayed day and night in the B&B, taking over the room that had been mine. I moved in with Gray. We weren't sleeping much, anyway; we were with Malou as much as we could be.

I canceled all guests for the near future, not wanting to be busy in any way right now.

Malou passed away in her sleep a week after the New Year began, neverreallywaking up after the night when she told me Gray loved me.

The morning after her death was somber, a blanket of heavy clouds hanging over the Atlantic, reflecting the collective sorrow of everyone who knew Malou. The crash of the waves seemed more respectful than mournful, a natural tribute to my dear friend.

The funeral home had taken Malou away, but I swore her spirit stayed with me, making me stronger even in my grief.

Gray was at my side, his presence a silent pillar of strength. Jude and Willow came to be with me, and I was grateful because I was comforted by their presence.

We'd all lost Malou, and we all came together to mourn her and also celebrate her life. I knew she'd appreciate that. As she was slipping away, I knew she worried about me,butseeing Gray and the kids had given her certainty that I'd be okay. I knew she had asked Gray to promise to take care of me; a promise he'd made, he told me, with absolutely no reservations.

"You've got to eat something, Mama." Willow slid her arm around me as I stared out of the large windows in the living room where we'd just spent Christmas as a family with Malou.

"I know, but I'm just not hungry, baby." I leaned my head on her shoulder. It felt good to have my children again—good to have Gray here. It was as if Malou had orchestrated the last days of her life so I could repair my family, bring us together.

"She told me she was your guardian angel, and you were hers," Willow whispered, stroking my hair.

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