Rose for Rose: Book Two in the Angels' Mirror Series (25 page)

Arthur shrugged his uncle’s hands off, stepped around him, and went to toss the plates in the sink. “Dat ain’t ma problem,” Dabney called after him loudly as the dishes clattered noisily. It sounded like something broke, but Arthur didn’t bother to check it. Instead, he turned to the basement, thankful there were locks inside, and not just on the outside. He rapidly flipped the light on, and suddenly, heard a scream from the basement.

Oh, no, she didn’t!

How did Andrea even have strength to muster a scream like that?

He’d kill her! How dare she go and out him like that?

It wasn’t as if it hadn’t been his plan to begin with, but now there was no choice!

Ken and Dabney were behind him within moments, clamoring in around him, edging him toward the still-cracked basement door.

“Whatever on earth was that? It sounded like it came from the basement,” Ken said as he and Dabney both gripped the opening to keep the door from shutting all the way while Arthur tried to close it rapidly behind him.

He slammed the door, and it shut on his uncle’s fingers. The man yowled so loud, Arthur knew the neighbors had to have heard him, even if they hadn’t heard Andrea.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he opened the door just enough for his uncle to remove his fingers, but instead, now both men had their hands inside the door.

A sudden knock at the front door startled them all.

Begrudgingly, Ken removed his hand and Dabney followed suit. “We still gonna talk ‘bout dis’,” his uncle said with a hiss. “Don’ be goin’ doin’ nothin’ to whoever you gots down dere and make this no worse than it is already, Boy!”

This time, it was Rosemary’s scream that pierced the night, and as the men headed for the front door, Arthur quietly followed them, making sure the basement was closed. Quickly grabbing a lamp, he hit his uncle over the head with it, and the man was down in no time.

Ken whirled on him, yelling, and whoever was outside began to shout.

“Hey, what’s going on in there? Do I need to call the police? What’s going on…?”

Ken’s face reddened as he came toward Arthur, and, using the same lamp, Arthur walloped him, too. The man crumpled to the ground in slow motion, and Arthur dropped the lamp onto the sofa.

When he got to the door to answer it, slipping outside quickly and shutting the door behind him, he stood face to face with a man he presumed to be a Mormon missionary.

“Sorry; I um, I gots da TV down now; whatchu want, ‘cause I alr’dy gots Jesus,” he said abruptly before there was any comment from the young man before him. “And He’s not what you done peddlin… not really. You be in a cult, and don’t even know it!”

“Sir, I…. Is everything alright? I’m sure I heard screaming and hollering, and I don’t think…. Was that really the television?”

“A’course it was. You callin’ a follower o’ Jesus a liar now, Kid? You know nothin’ ‘bout life if you think I’s lyin’,” he replied, trying to calm himself down. He could smell blood and hoped it wasn’t on his clothes.

How could he forget to check before opening the door?

A crashing sound behind him caused him to start, and he excused himself from the conversation. “Now, if you let me back to ma show, I be obliged. Have a good night,” he said and abruptly shut the door, his heart thumping madly within him.

Now whatma gonna do?

Part Four:

Reality Check

Thirty Seven

Portland, Oregon… August 19, 2013

“Is it really two in the morning,” Edward heard Paloma whisper as they still waited to see the Rutherfords’ new baby. He shivered a moment, then straightened up carefully.

Duncan and Chosen were asleep on the couch, between them, and the baby was cradled in his wife’s arms, sucking her thumb.
Her pacifier must have fallen onto the floor
, he thought. She wasn’t quite asleep, but he was hopeful that she would be soon.

Charlotte, who didn’t want to sit with them, was on the couch across from them, just staring into space, her little eyes popping open, then sliding shut, every few minutes. It was evident she was doing her best to keep awake.

With a glance at the clock, he nodded. “Yup.”

It had been a long day, and they’d been at the hospital most of it. Me’chelle’s baby had finally been born a little after midnight. There had been complications, but the nurse didn’t tell them anything more. They hadn’t seen Me’chelle or even Jason, who was surely at her side.

Whatever happened in the labor and delivery room, they’d have to wait to find out.

“Want me to go see if there’s any update,” he asked. “Maybe the staff were just… too busy to come get us or something.”

He felt helpless, and he was tired.

If they could just see Me’chelle and the baby, and know they were both alright, then they could maybe go get a little sleep and come back in a few hours. As it was, what good was it for them to be there, doing nothing but watching Charlie?

They could do that at home as much as anywhere else.

“Can if you want to,” he heard Paloma say through the fog of his thoughts. “I was pondering it, myself, but I can’t… I don’t want to disturb Duncan or Cherish,” she finished. And it made sense.

Edward gingerly picked up Chosen’s head from the edge of his leg and stood up, setting it back down on the seat. The boy gave a little snort in his sleep, but otherwise remained undisturbed. Instead, he curled into a little ball, one of his feet hitting his brother in the arm. After a few deep breaths, both children still asleep, Edward finally made his way out of the waiting room area and over to the nursing desk.

There were three people behind it, none of whom looked familiar to him.

Must have changed shifts since we got the last update
, he thought.

Clearing his throat, he approached a man who sounded like he was wrapping up a phone call. He looked to be about thirty, with dark hair, a broad but somewhat uneven smile, and a little pot belly. Once he was finished with his call, he addressed Edward.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he answered, twisting his thumbs into his pockets.

“Hi there… Sébastién,” he said, noting the man’s nametag. “I’m Edward Stuart, and you have my sister-in-law as a patient here. She had her little boy nearly two hours ago, and we – my wife and I, and the children – haven’t been able to see either Me’chelle or the baby yet, and we wondered…?”

The man slapped himself on the forehead. “I’m so sorry. I knew there was something I’d forgotten to do. Please forgive me. I meant to come tell you you were able to see Mrs. Rutherford nearly half an hour ago, but then this call came in, and I just…. Well, that’s the call I just finished.”

With a sigh of relief, Edward thanked him and asked if the room number was still the same.

“Sure is. For a while there, she had to stay in labor and delivery, but now she’s back in her room. If you gather your family, I’ll meet you here and take you back.”

Silently nodding, Edward hurriedly walked back over to where his wife and the children were waiting and told her they could all go see Me’chelle.

“The guy who was supposed to come get us got stuck in a phone call,” he explained, picking up Chosen and gently waking him up. Next, he walked carefully over to Charlie, who had fallen asleep since he’d walked away. He hated to wake her, but knew she’d want to see her parents.

With his free hand, he gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes popped open quickly. “We can go see your Mommy and Daddy now, Precious,” he whispered.

She nodded, and struggled to her little feet.

By the time Edward turned around, Paloma had awakened Duncan and resituated Cherish in her arms. Then, their little party headed for the nursing desk to meet Sébastién so he could escort them back to see Me’chelle.

When they finally reached her door, Edward took a deep breath, and followed the man inside. Me’chelle was asleep, and Jason was wide awake.

“Finally!”

Charlotte ran to her father, and he quickly caught her up into his arms.

“And Clayton,” Paloma asked tentatively.

“He’s more stable now. He…” Setting down Charlie, he motioned to Edward and Paloma to step aside. They set the children down. “Papa will be right back. He needs to talk to Auntie and Uncle, alright, Charlie?”

“Otay, Papa,” she said, frowning, tears trickling slowly from her eyes. The poor thing’s little dress was so crumpled, it was almost unrecognizable as having been clean the morning before.

“So, here’s the thing,” Jason began, glancing back at the kids a moment. “Clayton, well, he… he wasn’t breathing on his own when he was born. The doctors…. Edward,” he looked back and forth between the two. “Paloma. They… the doctors and the nursing staff, they… they didn’t know if he would survive. It took… it was almost…”

Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the charcoal-colored shirt he had on, making it look spotted with black.

He began again. “It was almost three minutes before… he couldn’t breathe for three minutes, you guys. So they don’t know… they aren’t sure… brain damage, you see. They don’t know if he will ever be normal, and one nurse even had the nerve to tell us maybe we should…”

With another pause, Jason’s knees buckled beneath him. Edward grabbed for him quickly, and with Paloma’s help, was able to get him to a chair.

What had happened? Edward didn’t understand, and yet, he remembered the same thing happening with some of his siblings as a child; not enough air, or no air at all, and then, they would be dead, sometimes at only a few years old, their bodies not able to handle everything around them. He took a deep breath as he waited for Jason; then another.

It seemed an eternity before the man could speak again.

“You know that nurse, the one who checked us in? Well, she… she suggested we put him up for adoption, or into a home for… a home for the mentally retarded. Clayton wasn’t even ten minutes old, for crying out loud!” Jason’s voice raised higher and higher with the words of his final sentence.

Outraged, Edward looked around for the nurse before realizing she would have already gone home. Why had she stayed so late, if she was there when they checked in? He glanced to Paloma, whose beautiful blue-violet eyes streamed with tears, and didn’t know for sure who to comfort. After placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder, he then drew Paloma into his arms and then just stood there, comforting them both in silence, the only way he knew how.

Sébastién, the man who’d escorted them back to see Me’chelle, paused in his tracks when he came out of the next room over.

“I’m so sorry,” he said with the faintest of French accents. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you what happened, and I can assure you,” he continued, “I… I can assure you, Rhonda Linn will be spoken with. I… I heard what she said to your brother. And I promise you… I… I promise I’ll make sure someone sits her down for a chat. It was insensitive and inappropriate, and in all the years I’ve worked with her, I never… I… I didn’t think she could say something so callous or cold. I’m terribly sorry.”

The words came out in a rush, hesitation only coming when he repeated himself, revealing a stutter that surprised Edward.

Not sure what else to say, Edward thanked the man and asked for some privacy.

“Of… of course. But it’ll have to either be in Mrs. Rutherford’s room or the waiting area; as long as the kids are with… with you.”

Quietly nodding, Edward watched the man uncomfortably shift the files in his arms and walk away.

Paloma and Jason followed him back into Me’chelle’s room, and the children greeted them quickly. Cherish had slept through the whole thing, and Duncan had fallen back asleep, curled in a chair, his little tongue sticking out of his mouth. In the next chair over, Charlie and Chosen were carefully holding Cherish’s sleeping form together.

It wrenched at Edward’s heart to see his family like this. Memories washed over him of other difficult births, and of children with no clue what was going on. He remembered being the older sibling and not knowing what was happening, and of being the cousin without a clue.

Paloma gently retrieved Cherish from the pair and, thankfully, was able to keep her own tears at bay. Edward watched them a moment before carefully picking Duncan up so Jason could have a seat. Behind him, he heard Me’chelle shift on her bed and say a quiet hello.

Careful to put a smile on his face, he turned around and greeted her in return. Jason leaned closer to her, his chair beside the bed, and Charlotte and Chosen scrambled closer.

“Mama! Hi, Mama. I was wowwied for you,” the little girl said in greeting. “Wewe’s Cwayton?”

A knock on the door interrupted Me’chelle’s careful explanation, and Jason called the nurse in. A thin, petite woman with half-greyed hair came in, a bundle in her arms. “I heard you had visitors, Mrs. Rutherford. And I thought they might want to meet the newest member of the family,” she said calmly, a smile revealing her tender words were sincere.

Briskly walking over to Me’chelle, she carefully lay the baby in her arms. “I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Little Clayton here can’t be out of his bed too long, but I wanted to make sure everyone got to meet him; get acquainted a little.” She winked and, before anyone could reply, turned and walked out of the room.

Edward looked down at the baby in Me’chelle’s arms, and his heart jumped to this throat. The little boy had her fair hair, and skin the color of a creamy mocha that got just a little too much milk.

His eyes were alert, and seemed observant.

“Would you like to hold him” she asked Paloma. With a silent nod, his wife carefully gave Cherish to Jason and took the baby into her arms. And it was all Edward could do to keep tears from streaming down his face.

He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt God had big plans for this little man; and they didn’t include adoption, or being farmed out for others to care for. A miracle had taken place.

It had to have.

For what Jason had described was not the same thing he was seeing now.

The little boy’s hazel eyes seemed to be aware and roaming the room for a moment before focusing on Paloma’s face. Though Edward knew everything was blurry – something he’d learned when he studied babies preparing for the twins – he also knew Clayton could see and think and would be just fine.

Somehow. He would be fine.

Even if other people didn’t see it that way.

Even if it took another miracle.

They would get through this as a family, come what may. There was no way they were letting Clayton go. He was their nephew; he was their family.

And as much as Rose had felt like family, the feeling didn’t compare in the slightest.

Now Edward knew…. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that God was in control.

As he watched his nephew grasp onto Paloma’s finger with his tiny hand, he said a silent prayer of thanks.

It had been a long day; a long and emotional week, but God knew what was up His sleeve, and that He had something very special in store for them all.

And Clayton, in whatever way God intended, was going to remain part of that.