Roses

Chapter 27

Zoey

The next morning I find Abraham dozing off in his room, thanks to some of his medication. So I sit on my usual spot and pull out my phone to continue writing. Unlike many writers, I find no problem in switching between platforms, as long as the story remains fresh inside my head.

I'm almost done with an entire chapter when I hear him stir on the bed.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" I ask him as he sits up slowly.

"Like shit," he answers and raises an eyebrow, daring me to argue. I hold up both my hands in surrender, which makes him give me a small smile.

"It's actually a beautiful day. How about we go take a walk?" I try to make my voice sound cheery. I have zero expertise in being a caregiver, but this can't hurt, right?

"You really think I want to go for a walk right now?" His eyes slightly crinkle, the sarcastic amusement from his words reaching them.

"No, I think you want to kiss a bottle of vodka right now. But you and I both know that ain't happening." This time I raise a brow and dare him to argue. He sighs at my words, then nods with a resigned expression on his face.

Fifteen minutes later we are both walking along the perimeter of the front lawn. There's a bench placed at every corner so he can sit for a minute or two every now and then. I can't help but chalk up the thoughtful gesture to his son.

"Can I ask you something?" Normally, I wouldn't have bothered with his permission and just blurted out the question. But what I mean to ask him is more personal than anything I've asked so far.

"Of course."

"How are things between you and Adam?" I watch as his eyes soften and a small, sad smile graces his features.

"Much worse than they should be," he says and then adds in a whisper, "And it's all my fault."

"Why?"

"I was a terrible father to him." He stops and turns to look me straight in the eyes. "When I should've thought of him, I only thought of myself. And my selfishness drove a wedge between us which I don't think will ever go away."

His honesty surprises me even though he never seemed like the type of man to lie about something like this. It's the brokenness in which he talks about their relationship that really guts me.

"But you don't know that," I mutter. His eyes widen slightly in question so I clarify, "That the wedge will never go away."

He chuckles humorlessly and then looks up at the sky, and I immediately recognize the dullness in his face.

"I used to do that too, you know. Carry my failure around like a blanket. It gave me an excuse not to try. But you do that long enough, you become the blanket and live like a shell of yourself."

I get a few flashbacks from the last couple of years in New York. The aimless living. Feeling worthless. I didn't fail as a parent, but I did fail myself.

I shake my head and shove those thoughts right back where they came from. I don't have to live through that shit twice.

He looks at me as if he wants to say a million things but stays quiet. I know that feeling too.

It's after a long minute of silence that he utters the words that end our conversation on the subject, "You want me to drop the blanket, but what if I'm not carrying just one?"

                                                                       ***

After the walk, I leave Abraham in his room to go and fetch some snacks from the kitchen. I find Rosa already fixing two plates. She looks up and her kind features transform into a smile.

"Just give me two minutes to slice the apples," she says, turning around to open the refrigerator.

"Of course," I say as I hop on the counter. There's no point in offering to help: she would refuse. She takes great pride in taking care of the house and everyone in it.

In this moment, she looks a lot like a mother figure to me and I can't stop my eyes from glazing over a bit.

When did the Thorns household start feeling so much like home to me?

"How did all of you come to work here?" I clear my throat and ask, desperate to give my mind something else to think about.

"We used to live in Chicago," she says, her knife hovering over the fruit and a far off expression on her face. There's also something else, something a lot like fear. "My husband got in trouble with..... a very powerful man. We lost everything. We would have lost our lives too, had it not been for Mr. Adam.

"He found us hiding behind a dumpster and decided to save us," her words turn into a breathless chuckle, as if she still cannot believe the kindness bestowed upon her family. She grips the cross around her neck and closes her eyes for a brief moment.

I have no doubt she's saying a silent prayer. Thanking God or Adam? From the look in her eyes a couple moments ago, I don't think they are far apart in her heart.

"He means the world to us," she looks into my eyes and clasps both my hands in hers. "And you are his."

"No-"

"I've seen him look at you," she smiles. "You can deny it all you want, but that won't change the truth."

She releases me with a concerned hint to her eyes when I don't react. She passes me the plates that I promptly take and turn around to escape her.

"I hope you can let his love in," is the last thing I hear her say.

Her words give me pause. And I realize that even if Adam holds the key to my heart, I'll still have to be the one to open it for him.