The House of Roses (6 page)

“
You'll find a way to be okay. For them,” Rita said, and Caitlin smiled weakly at her.

“
Is this how you felt?” Caitlin asked, looking at her mother. A look of sadness  Caitlin didn't understand seemed to consume Rita's face, if only for a moment. “Mom?”

“
This is how all mothers feel,” Rita said, smiling through unshed tears. “I have to make a call,” Rita said, sounding suddenly distant.

“
I want to wait here,” Caitlin replied, gazing again at the sleeping twins. “Thanks for the airplane ride.”

“
You're welcome,” Rita said, with a smile that faded immediately when she turned away. She walked along with a heaviness in her heart, an ache she knew Caitlin wouldn't understand. She remembered gazing at her own sleeping child through the glass separating her from the nursery where her daughter had spent her first few hours. Her heart ached for Caitlin and for herself, and for the fate that seemed to befall those she loved. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't help Caitlin. It was something the girl needed to do herself.

Rita moved quietly through the hospital into the lobby, through the enormous doors, into the beautiful October morning. She pulled a pack of Newports from her worn hobo bag, strolled fifty feet from the entrance as required by law, and lit a cigarette with the lighter she always had in her pocket. She drew deeply on it, feeling the nicotine calm her frayed nerves. She pulled a cell phone from the bag and dialed the number to her shop. She knew Ella would be there at the crack of dawn filling weekend orders with love and precision.

“
Good morning, Hollings House,” Ella sang into the phone and Rita felt another pull at her heart.

“
I knew you'd be there,” Rita said, struggling to find the right words.

“
Well, well, well, I was wondering when I'd hear from you,” Ella responded, her voice light.

“
I'm at the hospital,” Rita said.

“
And?” Ella asked anxiously.

“
Caitlin had the twins at about two o'clock this morning,” Rita said softly.

Rita heard Ella weeping softly and neither woman said anything for several long moments.

“
Is everyone all right?” Ella whispered, and Rita felt sad for her. Life could be so unfair, and Rita felt like a thief, stealing a moment she knew her friend would never have.

“
Everyone is fine,” Rita said, not entirely telling the truth.

“
So, tell me about the twins,” Ella said, having regained her composure.

“
The boy is Rogan William, and the girl is Hannah Margaret,” Rita said, certain her friend would make the connection.

“
After his grandfather,” Ella said softly.

“
Yes.”

“
Margaret.........,” Ella said.

“
Amazing, isn't it?” Rita asked sadly.

“
It is,” Ella said. “Rita, I am so glad you called, and so happy for you. I'm going to pray for that girl, and hope she and Colin come to their senses. And now I have to go. I have another arrangement to work on, so I'd better get myself busy.”

“
I'll be back in a couple of weeks,” Rita offered.

“
We'll be fine. Take your time,” Ella replied.

“
Thank you, Ella. It doesn't seem to be enough, but thank you.”

The two women hung up and Rita lit another cigarette. She needed a moment to think, to take pause, and to let it all in. She hadn't told Ella the whole truth, that Caitlin wasn't doing well emotionally, but Rita had a feeling the other woman already knew. Still, Rita felt badly for not opening up more, for not being entirely truthful. There had been too many lies in her life. It was time for the truth.

S
ix

Colin Thomas pulled into his reserved spot behind New York-Presbyterian Hospital and cut the engine to the Volvo. It was a beautiful autumn day, the kind he and Caitlin used to love, and as much as he'd grumbled, he'd enjoyed the steady jog he'd taken to retrieve the forgotten car. He'd stood by it, only for a moment, and gazed up at Lorry Andrew's window. The blinds were drawn, and he could picture her sleeping peacefully. She was a wonderful person, a friend he'd cherish always.

He glanced at the hospital and checked his watch. He had forty-five minutes before his appointment. If he hurried, he'd have time to grab a coffee from the corner cart and take a stroll. As he walked he thought of Caitlin  He'd thought of her often in the nine months they'd been apart, but in the long hours since he'd sat with Lorry in the pub, he'd thought of little else. He wondered why she'd taken a leave, what she was doing, where she'd gone. Lorry had asked if she'd go away, and suddenly Colin wondered if she had. Had she run away?  Hadn't they both? 

Standing alone in his condo an hour before, he'd chastised himself for being a fool, and as he walked along the city streets at his favorite time of the year, without his favorite girl, he realized he had been a fool. They both had been. They'd both been so afraid to open up, to take a chance, and so they'd walked away. The leaves crunched softly beneath his running shoes as he walked, and he was reminded of the many walks he'd taken with Caitlin the previous autumn. They'd been together for four years. Four winters, four springs, four summers, and four autumns. He'd have stayed with her for four lifetimes, given the choice, so why had he walked away? 

After they parted, he'd immersed himself in his work, going into the office early, staying late, participating in every conference he could, taking every opportunity to speak at some far off location.

Colin sidled up to the coffee cart and ordered the largest cup they had. He'd only slept a few hours, and although he'd felt ornery and exhausted when he woke that morning, he felt a clarity of thought he hadn't in a long time. Still, a long day lay ahead, and he needed the restorative quality of his favorite brew.

“
Morning, Doc,” Cliff Hurd said with familiarity.

“
Morning, Cliff,” Colin replied to the proprietor of the cart.

“
Beautiful day.”

“
Yup.”

“
Won't be too many more of these. We'll be kickin' up slush instead of leaves here any time.”

“
Always happens too fast,” Colin said thoughtfully, knowing how true it was.

Colin handed Cliff a five-dollar bill and got a few coins in return. Ridiculous price for coffee, but he'd have paid twenty bucks for it if asked. He needed it that badly. He took a greedy sip and winced as the steaming liquid burned the inside of his mouth.

“
Have a good day, Doc.”

“
Yeah, you too, Cliff. Coffee's good today.”

“
Coffee's always good, Doc.”

Colin strolled away with the coffee in his hand. Cliff was right. Soon fall would pass, the skies would turn gray, and gray they'd stay, seemingly until spring. The days would be shorter, but his without Cate in them, would only grow longer. He was a first class ass, and she'd be a fool to take him back. Still, he had to try. What was the worst thing that could happen?  He knew what it was. He'd call her, or go see her, bare his soul to her, and she'd tell him to piss off, and worst of all, he'd deserve it. She'd never take him back, not after how he'd treated her.

Colin checked his watch again, and picked up the pace as he approached the hospital. He tossed the empty coffee cup into the trash can in front of the lobby and made a bee line for the fifth floor.

When the elevator door opened, he saw Mia before he saw her mother.

“
Hi, Doctor Colin,” the little girl said, as they walked toward his office. Colin instinctively smiled. He loved children, was amazed by them, although he hated the reason his patients were in his life. He was committed to them with a passion, each one equally needful of his expertise. But this one was different. Mia Mariposa was one of the most beautiful children he'd ever seen, with skin the color of the perfect latte and huge cocoa-colored eyes. Her jet-black hair hung nearly to her waist, and despite the ugliness of HIV that lay in wait inside her like a ticking time bomb, she was the picture of good health.

“
Howdy, gorgeous,” Colin said, and Mia responded with giggles. “How's Mom this morning?” he inquired, although once he'd made eye contact with Rosario, he knew he didn't need to ask. “Come on in,” he said, opening the door to his office.

Rosario took a seat across from his massive desk, and Mia sat in a child-size chair tucked neatly into the corner.

“
How's Mia?” Colin asked, looking at the child, who had already become engrossed in a large picture book.

“
I'm not here about Mia.........,” Rosario said softly, “well, not really,” she barely whispered.

“
What's going on?” Colin asked, although given Rosario's pallor, he suspected he knew.

“
I saw Doctor Burns on Friday.”  Rosario looked at him, her grief-filled eyes hinting at the story with which she was struggling. Colin stood, circled the desk and sat beside her. Instinctively he reached for her hand.

“
What's happening, Rosario?” he asked, his voice so filled with compassion that the woman who sat beside him simply sobbed in response.

“
Mama had a bad dream,” Mia said from the corner. “I think she wants to tell you about it.”

Colin looked at Mia, who smiled at him. He winked back at her, and she returned her attention to the book in her lap.

“
Did you, Rosario?  Did you have a bad dream?” Colin asked softly.

“
It's not a dream,” Rosario whispered. “It's coming, Dr. Thomas. It's coming faster than we thought. I've prayed for a miracle, but I don't think that's what's coming. Dr. Burns said the end is coming. I need to know about Mia. I know her prognosis is good now, that she doesn't have AIDS, but I need to know everything you can tell me so I can plan for her. I don't have much time. My baby, Doctor, my own blood, will be left behind with no one, nothing, nothing but this shameful, murdering disease I've given her.”  Rosario's shoulders shook as she sobbed, and Colin felt his heart being ripped apart. What could he say to this beautiful dying woman, whose only living legacy would be abandoned when the Grim Reaper stepped in and stole the one person who'd cared for her?  He turned away, his gaze falling on the beautiful child who sat quietly watching them.

“
Told ya,” Mia said. “Musta been a doozer, huh, Doc?” she asked, and Colin nodded, fighting back tears of his own.

“
Musta been,” he agreed, forcing a smile for the child, a smile he didn't feel. “Mia, would you like to color a picture for Mom?”

“
You want a picture, Mama?” Mia asked, and Rosario, who could not speak, nodded back.

Colin crossed the room, and set two coloring books and an enormous box of crayons in front of the little girl. He gently touched her hair, and returned to his seat beside her mother.  Once Colin was certain Mia's attention was diverted elsewhere, he turned to Rosario. Again he took her hand before speaking. 

“
Every day there are advancements in treating HIV. Mia could live a healthy life, but I can't give you a guarantee, Rosario. I wish I could.”

“
I know. I just don't know what to do, or how to do it.”

“
There are organizations, Rosario, organizations I can refer you to for help. They can give you advice about planning,” he said, and his words sounded ridiculous even to him.

“
Right. Organizations that will help me get my affairs in order...........,” Rosario replied, and although her words were softly spoken, Colin felt as though he'd been struck. This woman needed something, and he doubted it was something any organization could give her. Suddenly he had an idea.

“
Rosario, how much time do you have?” he asked, looking at his own watch. When she said nothing, he looked up at her. “Oh, dear God, I'm sorry,” Colin said, recognizing his heartlessness. “How much time do you have this morning?”

“
Well, I've done nothing but cry since Friday, and today was looking similar. I suppose I could fit something else into that busy schedule,” she replied, forcing a smile.

“
Hey, kiddo, you hungry?” Colin asked the child.

“
Yup,” Mia answered.

“
Rosario, I'd like to take the two of you to lunch. I'd like to take you out of this just for a little while. Sometimes stepping away from things allows us to think clearly. It's impossible to see beyond the grief you're feeling right now. I need some time to think about things, too. I'd like to see if there's anything I can do to help you with this...... transition.”

Rosario smiled at him, with a smile that looked nearly genuine. He wasn't sure how to help her, but he knew he had to try. His expertise was in matters of the body. It had never been in matters of the heart. He knew her heart was breaking, but what she didn't know was his was as well. Perhaps over sandwiches and coffee, two broken hearted people could find a way to help each other.