Page 69 of Roses and Skulls

“I was wondering if Elijah and I could borrow the rod?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, that’s cool,” she answers, giving me her back once again.

“Okay, thanks.” I pull the door behind me, but I don’t close it. I watch as her brush chases the light away. Whatever she’s painting, it’s going to be dark. I glance behind me at the door that holds most of her darkness.

“Mom?”

She doesn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“Are you mad at me?”

This has her rushing over to me. “No. No, of course not.”

“I know I’ve been a brat.”

She pulls me into her art room and sits me down, crouching in front of me. “I’m mad at myself. I promised your dad I would be a fierce mother and I think I failed.”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve been fierce. I promise. You kept Elijah and I apart all these years.”

She rests her head on my knees. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just… I saw how you looked at him and I knew.” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want you thinking about boys.”

“Mom,” I run my fingers through her soft dark hair.

“I looked at your dad like that when I was too young. Like he was already mine.” She swallows. “I didn’t want you to grow up too soon.”

“But you brought Elijah back?”

“I wasn’t going to keep him away from you forever. I just wanted you to grow up without all that.” She glances away, grimacing.

“Hey,” I grab her cheeks and turn her to face me. “I get it. It must have been hard having a daughter after all you went through.” I point to the room across the hall, letting her know I understand.

“I don’t know what normal is, Billie Rose. I thought I was giving you normal by keeping you close to the family, surrounded by people I trust. And now, I see how wrong I was.”

“Elijah is… well, I wouldn’t say he’s one hundred percent good. But I think I can trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, you can trust him,” she whispers. “It wasn’t him… it was me.”

She lays her head in my lap as I stroke her hair. I notice my dad leaning against the wall outside the door.

“We’ve all made mistakes. But nothing we can’t recover from, yeah?” I ask softly.

“Yeah,” she says, closing her eyes. She’s tired. Her long lashes hide the dark circles of exhaustion. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own pain that I’ve failed to see hers. I continue to run my fingers through her hair as she weeps in my lap.

My dad comes in and pulls us to our feet. He wraps his arms around both her and I, his eyes meeting mine. All this time I thought it was him keeping me away from boys. And I’m sure it was but I understand now. She was trying to protect me from the horrors she went through. And my dad was only trying to make sure the same thing didn’t happen to me.

“I’ve had the best life,” I whisper into her hair, keeping my eyes on my dad. “You did it, mom, you kept me safe. Nobody’s touched me. I’m whole. I promise, I’m whole. The accident wasn’t your fault. I didn’t know how to cope with the loss but I’m learning.”

She sobs louder and my dad and I continue to hold her.

After a few minutes she pulls herself together and straightens, pulling away from us. “I’m… I just need to be alone for a bit,” she tells us as she picks up her paint brush.

“I’ll be upstairs,” my dad tells her. He drapes his arm around my shoulders and tugs me out of the room, closing the door behind us.

When we get back upstairs, Elijah is waiting for us.

“Dan’s, six o’clock,” dad reminds me.

Elijah sees the look on my face, letting him know I need a moment with my dad. “I’ll meet you outside,” he tells me, heading for the door.

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