In Full Bloom: Sequel to 'The Crying Rose': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 2) (5 page)

He didn’t have to search long for she was standing in front of the pantry, right inside the door. Standing there, holding the back door open, he watched her assemble Molly’s food, and deposit it into plastic bags. With her task completed, she set the bags on the counter next to the phone she had placed there. He heard her mutter something about a leash, and she turned toward the living room.

Mark entered the kitchen, closing the door. He spotted Grandma Jo standing by the sink, and shrugged his shoulders in answer to the questioning expression on her face. “Got me,” he said as he passed her, following Sami.

At the entrance to the living room, Mark spotted Sami at the closet door in the entryway removing a long green leash. She positioned it on the arm of the couch while shutting the closet door with her other hand. Looking up, she saw Mark standing in the middle of the passageway between rooms. “There are two bags of food on the counter. Her dry food is mixed with three tablespoons of canned food. I usually feed her a cup of food around ten in the morning. Then, around nine in the evening, I add to what she hadn’t touched in the morning, making about another cup more. Here is her leash. Yes, I walk her in the early evening, depending on the time of year. Now, when will you be bringing her back?”

It seemed to Mark that Sami had said this all in one breath, not giving him a micro second to interrupt her. Dazed at the outcome of Jon’s call, it took Mark a few minutes to get his bearings.

Sami watched him intently.

“Wait…” he began, but was interrupted by her.

“Did I forget something?” she asked. “Oh, of course, her pills.” She swiftly breezed by him as she went back to the kitchen. “How could I have been so stupid?” she admonished herself. “One a day is all I give her.” She retrieved the pill bottle from the cabinet and carefully set it on the counter with the food. Sami finally looked at Mark. He could read the fear in her face and body language. She was trembling all over.

This will not do
, Mark thought furiously.
I should have done this myself
. Adapting to a neutral mode, he approached Sami cautiously. Using a tone similar to his manner, he cooed, “Sami, we need to talk.” He gently placed his hand on her elbow, and guided her to the table. Indicating for her to sit, he saw her do as he directed.
Her eyes were as big as a hoot owl’s eyes
, he thought. “Sami, I am not taking Molly away from you.”

Mark saw that his words hit home immediately. Her shoulders stopped trembling, and the tears, hiding just under the surface, now flowed, expressing her apparent relief.

“What I had in mind, Sami,” Mark hurried on before he lost her again, “is for both of you to come with me.”

That did it! Mark witnessed the transformation unfold before his very eyes. It appeared that the tears running down her cheeks reversed their course, and raced back up her face. She was ‘smoking’ hot. The unconcealed despair was instantaneously changed into furious rage. There was so much heat radiating from her that he could feel sweat tracking down his temples. A devilish-looking grin replaced her pouting lips, and her squinting eyes locked on him. Knowing, in his gut, that he was about to become a victim of a vicious, verbal assault from her, he braced his tired body and mind. Willing himself to relax, he hoped to let the words roll right off him.

“I am not going anywhere!” Her words exploded in the air around them with so much intensity that Mark gritted his teeth from the impact.

Mark caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and realized that Grandma Jo, who had followed them to the table, was now slowly retreating.
Great, Sami
, Mark thought,
scare away my only helper
.

Sami was oblivious to this movement of Grandma Jo. She knew her target and was totally fixed on Mark. A growing, bottomless pool of anger was expanding, and consuming her with each passing second. Questions filled her angry thoughts.
Who, exactly, is this expressionless man sitting there?
Why do I hate him so much?
Why am I not afraid of him? Yet, why do I feel threatened by his presence?
She needed answers.

“Who are you?” she demanded in a commanding voice, but a degree cooler than her last outburst.

Mark crumbled inwardly, but kept the same expressionless appearance visible to her.
Not again
, he thought. “My name is…” he began.

“I know your name,” she sneered. “I am not stupid. You are Dr. Mark Stevens from the clinic. I could swear that I dismissed you.”

Mark’s reserve manner dissolved as the meaning of her words became clear to him. Suddenly, he realized that there were two different personalities sharing this one body. Mark wondered what was the extent of this new revelation. He quickly recalled that Sami’s file had not mentioned this possibility. So, he concluded that this split might be only temporary, a protective defense mechanism. The image of the painting of the crying rose appeared before him. He involuntarily shook off the memory of the image, knowing now that this woman needed him desperately. Remembering, however, the sharp thorns on the stem, he knew that he would have to use extreme caution.

Sami witnessed the shake of his head, and part of her rejoiced at the sight. A surge of power permeated throughout her whole body.
What a fool
, she thought.
He is so easy to manipulate. What kind of a doctor is he
, she wondered? A low, wicked laugh escaped her, and was barely audible to her own ears. A satisfied, knowing smile appeared on her face as she watched the doctor’s eyes refocus on her.
Good
, she thought,
he did hear me. Be forewarned, dear doctor
.

Her sly laughter infuriated him.
Watch it, Mark
, he thought.
Calm down. This part of Sami has thorns
.
Tread lightly or she will make you bleed.
Mark heard Pat’s voice in his head warning him. “I know,” he answered the voice. He had to quickly find the right path to negotiate around these thorns because she was building strength with each passing second.

Instinct took over as he chose words carefully. “Mrs. Carter,” he paused, gauging her reaction. He saw her eyes open a little further, and her aggressive poise deflate a tiny bit. He silently congratulated himself on this small victory. Somehow knowing if he had addressed her at that moment as 'Sami', the outcome would have been different. The woman, sitting in front of him, was not the meek and frightened Sami. He mentally started making a list of the characteristics of each personality. He would, from now on, need to address the one that was dominant before speaking. Schooling and experience has taught him that the one sitting here before him was the most vocal perhaps, but the other one had the potential for the most damage to her. He would have to resolve the underlying issues causing this split in order to bring the two of them back to one. Mark personally dreaded these types of cases. Each entity needed completely different approaches in treatment. Most importantly, they could switch in the blink of an eye.

Sami remained silent as her vision locked on the face of the man across from her. His expressions never varied, but his eyes were active. She also noticed that his eyes were extremely red-rimmed, with deep shadows under them, as if he had not slept in weeks.

Mark was very aware that Sami was watching him intently, waiting for him to speak, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t get his tired mind to work. As he struggled for the proper words, he witnessed a distinct change in Sami.

“You’re tired. You look terrible.” Her sweet voice was music to his ears.

“Yes, Sami, I am tired,” Mark responded, thankful that she had returned. Hopefully he could keep her with him for awhile. “Sami, we need to talk,” he began, holding his breath to see if 'Mrs. Carter' returned.

“I know,” she said.

Releasing his breath, he relaxed a little knowing that dealing with this personality would be just as difficult, but a lot less grating on the nerves. He jumped in with both feet. “We need to discuss our next move.” Mark signaled for Grandma Jo to approach, wanting Sami to understand that the ‘we’ meant all three of them.

Sami glanced at Grandma Jo, who was just sitting down next to Mark, then back. She nodded once to indicate that she understood.

“We have a housing problem,” Mark rushed on before she could speak. “We need a place that can house all of us, including Molly.” A puzzled expression arose on Sami’s face, but she held back from saying anything. Mark remembered Grandma Jo’s warning from last night, ‘be honest’. “Sami, you need to begin treatments again.” Her eyebrows started to lift dramatically, and Mark decided quickly to lay on the table what Jon had suggested. “It would benefit in your care of Molly.” It worked. Sami’s muscles relaxed.

“Molly?” Sami questioned.

“Yes.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Mark was elated by this question, and took the bull by the horns. He outlined for her, in detail, what Grandma Jo and he had discussed earlier.

Sami easily followed his plan, peering  around the room as he spoke, and saw the logic of the idea. Part of her, however, was reluctant to leave this house and her things.

Mark could sense her reluctance, and added one important element to the idea. “Sami,” he waited until her focus returned to him, “Grandma Jo’s house is less than a mile from here. You could be here in a flash if you felt the need.” Mark fell silent; the next move would be up to Sami. Never taking his eyes off her, Mark had to wait while she digested the plan he had mapped out to her.

“Okay, I’ll go, if you believe it would be in Molly’s best interest,” she said, giving Mark a penetrating stare. 

Mark nodded his head. “We all believe that it would be best.”

FOUR

G
randma Jo was on her feet in an instant. Mark caught her mumble something regarding cleaning her house as she headed for the kitchen. Turning in his chair to face her, he called out, “Don’t fret about the house. We are not going to be wearing white gloves.”

She turned in his direction and frowned. “You’d better not. You know that I’m a lot better cook than a cleaner.”

“I can help,” Sami said in a quiet voice behind him. “I like to clean.”

Turning back toward Sami, Mark visualized her pantry crammed full of cleaning supplies and chuckled. “Yeah, Grandma Jo, this plan might benefit you both.”

“That’s not funny,” Grandma Jo quirked.

Mark smiled at Sami, thinking Grandma Jo’s house was full of love, but appeared messy to all that entered. He remembered her off-handed remark to him on his first visit. She knew where everything was located; she just had an unorthodox way of organizing things. Sami returned Mark’s smile as she rose to her feet in order to assist Grandma Jo, when a knock on the front door caused her to change directions.

Mark’s curiosity bolted him from his seat, and he raced after Sami, who was just entering the living room. He stopped in the middle of the room and watched as she opened the closet door instead of the front door. He was about to call out, when he saw her reach for, what appeared to be a purse. With it securely in her hands, she backed out of the closet doorway and closed it. Doing a quarter turn, she reached for the front door knob with her left hand and opened it. On the other side of the door, Mark saw a young man, maybe in his late teens, holding a large box in his arms. Sami stepped back without a word, and the teen entered. He eyed Mark as he passed, but refrained from speaking. With Sami right behind him, he carried his treasures toward the kitchen. Mark followed the two through the passageway, while the teen deposited the box on the table. He turned and held out a piece of paper toward Sami. Taking the paper, she sat, and reaching into her purse, withdrew her checkbook. Mark looked back at him, and without the bundles in his arms, he noticed that the young man was wearing a vest displaying a local grocery store’s name. Finally, it occurred to Mark that this was her delivery day. The young man was eyeing him strangely. Mark stepped forward and offered his hand to him.