Rose for Rose: Book Two in the Angels' Mirror Series (3 page)

He hated the dapper tone; the not quite formal English accent. Hated it. But the man had been on his side when…

A smile slowly crept over Arthur’s face. He even felt it reach his eyes. Stretching his arms in front of him a few moments, he opened the door, dropped his backpack on the floor, and ducked to get inside.

It had been a long time coming, and his freedom wasn’t going to be jeopardized by anyone. Not this man; not his parents; not his ex.

Not even that fine filly of a best friend of his from childhood.

“Mama, I’m home,” he called as he unlocked the garage door. Looking around him, Arthur took in a deep breath. No answer came even though he could hear the TV, so he decided to park his backpack inside the door to the house, then came back to the garage.

Just about everything looked the same: the soda machine near the inside door, the safe next to that, and footwear benches full of various shoes. His Gramps Arthur’s baseball jersey boxed like a trophy on the back wall, with three gloves and a bat in a case in front of it. There were three pinball machines from the eighties along the final wall. And then, there were the bikes he and Morton used to ride as kids, and their sisters’ old roller skates: all five pairs of them, one for each girl.

He stepped up to one of the pinball machines and debated whether or not to play a few games before going inside, but then heard footsteps approaching from inside.

“Arthur?”

The voice was unsure but warm as the door opened.

He tensed.

That wasn’t his mother, and it sure as heck wasn’t a sister of his.

It was…

“Andrea,” he replied coldly, watching it open.

And then, there she was. The woman who had broken his heart six years ago. “What are you doing here?”

Half-Mexican, half-Italian, Andrea had golden brown skin, deep gold-hazel eyes, and a full mouth that smiled more often than not. And as for her personality, she was quiet, like her Mama, Margaretha, but at times gestured wildly like her father had before he’d died.

She’d had her hair dyed blonde during the time Arthur was behind bars; he could tell because the ends were still light, while the root was black as a late October sky. There was still some luminescence to it, but the color, to him, was boring.

“Colleen and Iris had me over for coffee. They told me you were coming home today, and I thought…”

“You thought? What on earth could you have been thinking, Andrea? That after I did my time, you could just jump back into my life? After all that’s happened?” He clenched his fists; forced them open again.

Soon,
he told himself.
Not now. Maybe there’s a reason for all of this. Let’s see how it plays out first…

He heard Colleen and Iris in the background as they made their way toward the door.

“Arthur, that you,” he heard Iris, his oldest sister – though she was still younger than he was – shout in his direction.

“Who else you think I be, Sis? The stupid tooth fairy?”

“Well, come on in, both of you. I’ve got some gingerbread coming out the oven in a few minutes… I know how you like that gingerbread, Bro,” he heard Colleen reply. “And wasn’t it a nice surprise, our having Andrea here?”

Silently following the woman who’d broken his heart into the house, he tried to keep his face composed.

Traitors! Each and every one of ‘em!

Part One:

Unsealing the Veil

One

Portland, Oregon… July 24, 2013

Paloma opened her eyes and took in her surroundings.

Where am I,
she asked herself before remembering the quick ride to the hospital, the short birth, hearing her daughter’s first cries.

She had fed sweet little Cherish after her Apgar scores had been taken to satisfaction, but then must have fallen asleep from the exhaustion of the event.

She glanced around at all the flowers and balloons surrounding her, and the smattering of cards that accompanied them. At her bedside was her husband, his blonde hair disheveled as though he’d just woken up from a long nap.

He was nestled under a blanket in the chair next to her bed, the curtain near the door behind him only partially drawn.

“Hi there, Mon Cherie” he said gently. He looked tired.

“Our daughter… she’s perfect.”

His smile was bright, but she knew it took effort for him to be here so soon after heart surgery. He’d had complications after they sent him home and had to stay a week, a second time, which was due to breathing issues. While his doctors believed they were all worked out now, only time would tell what would happen.

She didn’t see his wheelchair, and guessed he’d left it at home. A sigh escaped her lips as she thought of all they’d been through in the recent months.

She was thankful God had given them another lease on life, and the privilege to share that life with one another, even if things hadn’t turned out as they’d hoped.

She smiled appreciatively in return.

As long as Quentin never carried out his threats, all would come back together just fine.
Just the thought of him coming here and….

She shied away from the thought, hoping the joy in her eyes masked the pain in her heart.

A quiet knock on the door startled her. “Come in,” she said, and watched the nurse on duty bringing their daughter in for a visit, followed by her sister-in-law, Me’chelle, round and beautiful and almost ready to pop, herself.

“Jason is on the way with Charlie, so he can show her the new baby through the window,” she said in greeting. “And Mark is here in the waiting room with the boys. They saw her when the nurse brought her just now.”

Paloma took Me’chelle’s hand for a moment and squeezed it in thanks, then reached for her sleeping daughter, Cherish Nadine Céleste Stuart. Their seven pound two ounce, green eyed, pale redheaded miracle.

She had been named for Paloma’s mother and grandmother.

They’d considered using Astrid, after Edward’s mother, but not having met her, he found Cherish a more fitting and eloquent name.

Paloma had heartily, but modestly, agreed it was the better choice in that case, not wanting to have her husband constantly reminded of a past he could do nothing about.

The baby reminded Paloma of one of those little porcelain dolls you sometimes saw sold in magazines, with all the minute detailing, down to the perfect half-moon fingernails and little tendrils of red-blonde wisps that stuck up in tufts on her head.

“She looks a lot like Momma did when she was a baby,” she said, remembering the pictures she’d seen of her parents as children. “And of course, looks like she has Edward’s nose,” she teased gently.

“I think she looks just like her own Mama, if you ask me,” Edward volleyed back, tears shimmering on his face. “But, yeah, she’s stuck with her old man’s beak.”

They all laughed at this, and Paloma found it ironic how quickly her husband had picked up so many different linguistic metaphors from her own time… from his new time, as they called it, than he used from his old. Every time he used a new one she hadn’t heard, she wondered about the gift they’d been given, strange as it was.

Once she finished nursing Cherish, Paloma asked Me’chelle if she’d go see if Mark and her boys were still there. To her delight, they were, and Eugenie, along with Jason and Charlotte, had by then joined the trio, so that when her visitors came in, she was able to see almost all of the people who were nearest and dearest to her.

Edward looked tired but delighted as he held his daughter. Duncan and Chosen held her dear little hands, carefully kissed her little head, and waved as the three left to go home for some sleep.

“Buh-bye, Sit-tter,” they said. “Buh-bye!”

Chosen beamed at his mother as he and his twin went out the door.

Paloma’s eyes teared up as she tried to contain all the love she felt for her family. Me’chelle was next to her in the chair Edward had vacated, holding her hand, and Jason, Eugenie, and Mark were near the foot of the bed chattering about how precious Cherish was.

“You’re doing alright, the doctor tells me,” Jason finally said, turning the topic back to her, coming over to kiss her forehead for a third time. “And by this time tomorrow you’ll both be at home, safe and sound, away from the bustle of the hospital.”

And away from the possibility of Quentin coming to the hospital and seeing the baby
, Paloma thought to herself.

Paloma nodded, her head throbbing. She wanted to be welcoming to her family and friends. She wanted them there, and yet, sleep sounded so delicious. Though worry had crept in, it didn’t have as much a hold as she thought it would.

“Yes, that’s what I hear,” she replied.

The scent of all the flowers was overwhelming, and the room felt hot – whether from all the people in it, or the weather, or some combination, she wasn’t quite sure.

Finally free to roam some, little Charlie tried to climb up onto the bed, Mark attempting to stop her progress. “Oh, it’s alright. As long as she’s on the side, and doesn’t try to sit on my lap, I think she’ll be okay….”

Paloma opened her arm up so the girl could sit with her, and for a few moments, Charlie was still. Then, she started to squirm as the conversation continued.

After a few more minutes of talk about the baby, Paloma noticed something. But… what was different? She couldn’t quite pinpoint the change.

“Eugenie, did you get a haircut or something? I know… something is different, but it’s subtle. I wish I could figure out…”

Since marrying Mark six months prior, she’d had at least three haircuts, and Paloma wasn’t sure.

The now bob-headed woman had once had hair past her waist.

“I’m pregnant,” the plump, petite blonde blurted out, moving her hands to her belly.

Everyone, including her husband, looked at her in surprise. “I mean, a haircut, too, but… um…that wasn’t what I’ve been meaning to…”

Her words trailed off, and color rose in her cheeks.

A flurry of responses ensued quickly: “What?” “How far along?” “But, you…”

“How did you know? I haven’t even told…,” she turned to Mark, “I was going to tell you tonight.”

Suddenly looking like a little girl, she tucked her chin under, reminding Paloma of a turtle.

“That’s alright, I’m…” Mark looked down at the floor a moment, then back up, for once at a loss for words.

“Speechless,” Jason gibed. As he was standing between the two, he hugged them in turn as he got out of the way.

“So, I guess that means that all three of us will be having some play dates in the future, then?” Everyone looked over at Me’chelle, even as Charlie asked, “Egnee pregant?”

For someone who’s only said about five “real” words, that was a big sentence
, Paloma thought happily, getting excited. Charlie was talking; Eugenie was having a baby; Cherish was alright, and so was she.
As long as Quentin stays out of the picture, then we’re doing pretty good
, she thought.
But even so, we’re beyond blessed…

Paloma joined in on the laughter for a few moments before she realized how badly it hurt! She noticed she wasn’t the only one with tears rolling down her face at the impromptu moment of adorable.

Charlie looked around the room as she finally got back down, with help from her father. Her little face was more confused-looking than before, with furrowed brows and compressed lips.

The terror Paloma had begun to feel regarding Quentin’s potential return to her life had eased with the one moment… at least, for the moment.

Finally able to catch his breath from laughter, Jason finally answered his daughter, hunkering down to her level in the over-crowded little room. “Apparently so. Yes, Charlotte Emily… it sounds like Mark and Eugenie are going to have a baby. And that means someone new to play with, when he or she is old enough.”

“You never told us how far along you are, Girlfriend,” Me’chelle reminded her, hands on her own belly.

“All things going well, I should be giving birth come the first or second week of January,” she finally said, almost too quiet to hear.

After another round of congratulations, Paloma suddenly realized just how exhausted she was.

“Well, it’s been so great seeing you all. Thank you so much for coming, and Mark, Eugenie,” she held a hand out to them, “thanks again for taking care of the boys, and congratulations! I’m so happy for you guys! I know Me’chelle understands what I’m about to say, and soon, you will, too, but… as fun as it’s been, I really need to get some sleep.”

The nurse would be back with Cherish soon enough for her next feeding.

And with that, as if only then recalling why she was in hospital, the little group quickly said their goodbyes, and Paloma was finally able to be alone with just her thoughts and her God.

“Papa, thank You so much for all You’ve done today. It’s been a long, hard day but it’s been productive, and there’s been great news. Thank You for Cherish, Lord! Thank You for my husband and boys, and for the family and friends You’ve given us who’ve taken the time to show how much they care. And most of all, thank You for Your own love for us, and showing us that You care, too. Be even with Quentin and Lovan today, Lord, and help the man see reason; take away the danger that he may have in his heart to bring, Father, I plead, thanking You even now. Amen.”

Softly sighing as she finished her prayer, Paloma tried to find a more comfortable spot, closed her eyes, and finally got the rest she’d been longing for the last hour or so she’d been visiting. And in her exhaustion, she thought she heard music as she drifted off to sleep.