Rose for Rose: Book Two in the Angels' Mirror Series (30 page)

Forty Seven

Boston, Massachusetts… August 30, 2013

“Rosie, is that really you?”

Rose looked at the old man who was her little brother and shivered.

His hair was now white like snow, and his eyes had paled over time. His hands and face were weathered beyond what she’d ever seen with Gram-Papa Wishart’s, and it surprised her.

Was he older than Gram-Papa had been when he’d died? Because Peter’s skin looked as thin as butterfly wings in the moonlight.

She used to be afraid to touch the butterflies at all because her mother said they’d tear… especially once the moon was up.

She thought she’d been prepared for this, but even after talking with Jeanette and her daughter Arabella, looking at photo albums and hearing stories, she could hardly believe it when she placed her young hand in his old one.

She’d met several nieces and nephews, and even a number of greats, who were now older than she was. It was as if she was the perpetual child to all of her brothers’ full lives, and she guessed it was pretty accurate.

“Peter. My little Peter,” she said.

Tears formed in her eyes, and finally, she wept.

She had refused to cry around Jeanette.

The woman was supposed to be her new mother, but she couldn’t stand the idea of her own niece as her mother. It was ridiculous, but it’s what must be done if she wanted to see her brother. The brother she had to call “Grandpapa Peter” when staff were around.

Paloma had told her she had a couple of friends who worked here, but so far, Rose hadn’t met either of them. She’d seen their pictures in the hallway, though, with the rest of the staff photos. Max and Daniella looked like they were nice people. She was glad that Paloma had been kind enough to let her know there’d be some friendly faces around when she arrived; people who might be sympathetic to her situation.

Gently, she reached over and touched Peter’s hand; there were tubes and wires attached to it, and she was careful not to tangle herself up in them. His skin, still reminding her of butterfly wings, made her tentative; she was afraid she’d tear it just touching it.

“It’s really me, Peter. Your Rosie’s come home,” she said, finally answering him as tears continued to stream down her face.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, just touching her brother’s hand; letting the gentle pressure of his fingers melt into her own. And she knew in her heart it was truly Peter, even though her mind still didn’t fully understand what had happened.

How could they have lost so many years together? What had God done to them?

Why weren’t there enough days and weeks and months left for them to get to know each other again?

Tears began to well in her eyes as she thought of all they’d missed; all they’d shared, and all they could have shared had she just not fallen through Gram-Papa’s mirror.

She’d been told by his nurse that he was hanging on waiting for his sister, and that’s all she knew.

Apparently it just didn’t correlate that Rose
was
his sister, not that she supposed it should, to someone who wasn’t in the tight circle of people who knew what truly happened.

“Excuse me, er… Rose, is it?”

Paloma’s friend Max stood nearby, in the doorway.

She recognized him from his photo.

His eyes were much bluer than she expected, and very kind. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short, either, she observed. About Father’s height. But his body was much leaner than Father’s ever had been; lankier, and muscled differently.

“I’m Rose,” she said after a moment.

“I’m Max Colby; so nice to meet you,” he said, offering her a hand. “Can we speak for a few minutes? My wife and I wanted to make sure you knew what…”

After a moment of hesitation, she stood, careful not to disturb Peter, who had fallen asleep. She shook Max’s extended hand and then followed him out into the hallway to a lobby a short way away. When they arrived, Mrs. Colby was already there.

It was then that Rose noticed that the staff all wore similar, but not exact, attire.

The dark-haired, petite woman smiled at her, and her nerves began to calm. “Hello, Rose. We’ve heard so much about you,” she said, an accent Rose couldn’t quite place in her voice.

It wasn’t like Jason and Paloma’s, or like Edward’s, but it wasn’t like the Iglesias’ either.

“Would you like to take a short walk? There’s someone I think you might want to see again,” she continued.

Not sure what to do, Rose fingered her St. Peter’s medal and prayed for a moment before deciding to go with the couple. What harm could it do? They were not too far outside the city, but it was close enough there were still thousands of people, if not more, milling around all over the place.

She allowed Max to take the lead and walked side by side with Daniella, who told her about the varying places they passed along the way.

A few things were vaguely familiar, but much of it was very new to her.

After a few minutes, they turned down a lane that led to a cemetery. It was then that she understood: They were taking her to get some closure with her family.

But why would they be buried here, and not in Gloucester
, she wondered.
That makes no sense, unless they moved here or something.

When Max finally stopped walking and knelt down, it was in front of her brother Steven’s grave. As Rose read the dates and inscription, her sorrow built again, and she wept against Daniella’s shoulder for several minutes before she was able to move on to the next one. It was a name she didn’t recognize.

“That was his wife,” Daniella explained.

The next few were family, too… her other brothers, their wives, and some of their children. Even one of Warren’s grandchildren.

And just when she didn’t think she could take one more grave, they were finished with the tour: There wasn’t one here for her father.

“Hello, Mrs. Iglesias, how are you? Is… is Pilar there,” Rose said frantically into the phone.

Now that she’d gotten used to the device, she still didn’t fully trust it, but she had to talk with someone.

There was no way that someone would be Jeanette or Arabella. They wouldn’t understand; they didn’t understand her at all, and she wanted to leave. Wanted to get out of this place full of memories and pain and grief.

“Si, Rose, I go get her. Just a momento,” the woman said cheerfully.

At least she hadn’t totally been cut off from the Iglesiases. She missed them nearly as much as she’d missed her brothers and Father when she’d first traveled through the mirror, and it surprised her she could miss people she’d met so recently, so much.

“Rose? Is that really you,” her friend said in greeting.

Rose twisted the phone cord around her finger as she replied, her legs swinging back and forth in the oversized chair she sat in. “Hi, Pilar, boy, do I miss you something fierce!”

“I miss you, too,” Pilar replied. “So do Neville and Didier. I think, Mama and Padre, too. Even little Mimi…”

Rose could hear her friend’s brothers talking in the background with their mother, but didn’t understand what they were saying. She smiled as she pictured them all around the phone.

“Can I put you on speakerphone,” she continued. “That way, you can say hello to everyone all at the same time.”

“Um… sure,” Rose replied, not quite sure what that meant, but liking the idea of talking to more than one of her friends at once. Since Jeanette said to keep the call short, it would take less time that way, maybe.

“Hi, Rosie,” she heard Neville and Didier say, almost in sync. “We miss you. When are you coming back,” Neville added.

“I want to be there more than anything, but I have to be here right now. I came to see my br… my Grandpapa, Peter.”

“You have a Grandpapa Peter, and a brother, Peter,” she heard Pilar ask.

“Um…” Man, she’d forgotten she’d said something about Peter before her birthday and family role had been changed when she got those documents from Justice. “Yes. I have a brother, as well as Grandpapa, named Peter,” she said.

“So you see him yet, young Rose,” Fifine Noel asked her.

“Yes. He’s… he’s very… what’s the word? He’s frail and they don’t know how much longer he’ll…”

Tears began to collect in her eyes again and spill onto her cheeks.

In the background, she heard a cat crying, too.

“Um, who is that? Nadalina, or Muddlebear Cat, or Wiley, or that one I can’t remember the name of?” She pictured each of the cats in turn.

Why couldn’t she think of that fourth cat’s name? The big red and grey one?

“No, it isn’t Cinderbelle… its Wiley. I think he miss you, too. All the cats do. And he getting so big,” her friend’s mother replied. “Wiley and Muddlebear, they’re curled together here in Didier’s lap, and Cinderbelle, who knows where that cat is? Maybe the laundry room; dryer going, you know… and Nadalina… she in the living room, I think.”

Now that she had a better idea where everyone was, Rose smiled more broadly. She missed them so much, her heart hurt.

Tears continued to slide down her face, and the collar of her shirt was getting moist.

She missed overhearing conversations in a language she didn’t really know. All she’d learned were a few basic things like “si,” which meant “yes.” She missed watching
Veggie Tales
and
Perry Mason
with Pilar, and missed bouncing Didier and Mimi on her knee. She missed Neville playing with her hair and the smell of fresh tortillas. She just missed them all…

Even the reserved but ever-smiling Juanito.

“We let you talk to Pilar alone again now, but wanted to say hello. Mimi here, too… Say hi to Miss Rosie, Mimi!”

“Wosie,” she heard the little girl garble. “Miss Wosie. Come back?”

“Aw, I miss you too, Mimi. If I can come, I will try. I promise,” she said, hoping it were true. She had to find a way back there, where she knew people loved her, but she couldn’t leave Peter.

She couldn’t.

Maybe if she waited until he died, then went back, it would work…. She wasn’t sure.

As she thought, she pulled her feet up underneath her, causing her to nearly drop the phone. Would she ever really get used to these contraptions? It was bad enough with one corded to the house like this… she would barely even go near those things called “cell phones.”

What did people need to take their phone with them everywhere for, anyway?

“Rose? It’s just me now,” she heard Pilar say a few moments later. “Don’t forget your promise, okay? We want you home again. It isn’t the same without you. I know maybe that sounds strange, or even… I don’t know, weird?”

“I was thinking your home felt like home to me, actually,” she responded, her heart soaring. “Jeanette… she treats her daughter… her real daughter, Arabella, like she’s some kind of royal and lets her do… well… everything; anything. But me, I don’t…. I know I don’t really fit in here. I think… I think they feel burdened,” she said.

A crash coming from the other room startled her, and she dropped the receiver as she jumped.

After she picked it up again, she apologized. “I think I’d better get going. It sounds like Jeanette’s back. She’s… she drops things a lot, and it makes me nervous.” A shudder ran through her body at the thought of what might be coming.

But the truth was, Jeanette not only dropped things, she slammed cabinets and she threw things, too. Rose had seen it a handful of times since they arrived back in Boston, and it truly frightened her.

“Alright, Rose. I’m sorry things aren’t going… well, I’m sorry to hear your Grandpapa Peter isn’t doing so good, and I’m sorry you have to put up with… well, that you’re uncomfortable,” Pilar finally said in reply. Her friend sounded more than uncomfortable. “I’ll let you go now, but call me again soon, okay? And if something bad happens, call that nice lady you were staying with here… Eugenie. Promise?”

“Alright, I promise. I will. Even if I have to use a cell phone to do it,” she said, standing to stretch. She looked around her, and her heart was thumping loudly in her chest.

After hanging up, Rose ventured carefully in the direction opposite of where she’d heard the crash. Maybe if she made it to her room, she’d be able to avoid being verbally thrashed again.

When she’d gotten back from seeing Peter, she’d made the mistake of telling Jeanette about Max and Daniella taking her to the graveyard. For the next ten minutes, she heard her niece out as she cursed the couple’s stupidity, as well as her own.

Didn’t Rose know anything about stranger danger, she wanted to know?

But who was Jeanette kidding? She was more a stranger to Rose than Max and Daniella could ever be.

At least Paloma and Edward had known them for a long time, and that made her feel better about them. For even though Jeanette and Arabella were family, they didn’t treat her well at all.