Your Healing Touch

Chapter 1

4 Years Later

"Jasmine, would you come down here please!" I heard my mom's voice call from downstairs.

My wardrobe planning session for my first day of high school would have to be continued later. I had just put on outfit number five and was admiring the look in my full length mirror when she called me. Sighing at the inconvenience I trudged down the stairs to stop abruptly when I noticed a man standing next to my mom.

My eyes caught on his arm that was wrapped around her waist possessively. On their own my eyebrows shot up near my hair line. I let my expression ask the question my mom must have known was burning in my mind. She let out a nervous chuckle that didn't do much to hide the guilty look on her face.

"This is Charles. Charles Brentworth," she told me referring to the handsome blonde man at her side.

"It's so nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," he smiled up at me.

My hands grasped the railing of the staircase I stood on. Trying not to display my displeasure I forced a tight lipped smile.

"It's nice to meet you too. Although I can't say I've heard anything about you," I truthfully admitted. No venom slipped into my tone but my mom flinched all the same. To say I was shocked was an understatement. The four years after my dad died my mom and I were inseparable so for her to have kept this relationship a secret was an unwelcome surprise.

"I've been meaning to tell you about him but I-I...well I really have no excuse," she dropped her head. The gesture made me come down a step. I hated to see my mom in any sort of distress ever since my dad died. I became used to comforting her since it was just the two of us. Before I could make it the rest of the way down the stairs Charles had hugged her to him, rubbing small circles in her back. Charles broke the uncomfortable silence by coming to her defense.

"She wanted to tell you but I was the one who persuaded her not to."

My head cocked to the side at his words. He was not helping himself or her out.

"No no you misunderstand me," he rushed out, "What I meant by that was I told her we should wait until we knew our relationship was serious before I tried to come waltzing in your life."

I gave a small nod at his explanation. I guess that made sense. He didn't want to come in and out of my life. I could respect that.

"That's right baby girl," my mom chimed back in. "We knew that now was the time for you two to meet."

I flickered my eyes back and forth between the two feeling suspicious.

"Ok...so why is now the time?" My arms crossed as I asked.

My mom's smile faltered slightly before it brightened again. She gulped them stammered, "I-I... I mean we... the two of us...what I'm trying to say is--"

"We're getting married," Charles finished for her confidently.

I didn't speak, didn't move, didn't blink. How could I when my mom was getting married to a man who was a virtual stranger to me? I wasn't angry that she was getting remarried. On the contrary, I would have been quite happy for her had I known this man longer than five minutes but I could not, would not give her my congratulations. Maybe I was just being a dramatic teenager but I was feeling betrayed.

When a full minute passed and I still hadn't responded my mom took a step toward me. Charles immediately grabbed her wrist and shook his head. She bowed her head and moved back to his side.

I didn't like that.

"Give her time," I heard him say to her in a low voice.

Lifting my chin and straightening my shoulders I turned around to climb back up the stairs and lock myself in my room. I lied back on my bed and stared up at the Jonas Brothers' poster on my ceiling.

This woman must have lost her mind. I knew nothing about Charles so what did she expect my reaction to be? And what was with her being docile all of a sudden? She never behaved that way when my dad was alive. She was a spitfire and my dad loved her that way.

A knock on my door paused my sulking. I didn't answer secretly hoping my mom would take the hint and leave. Of course she didn't.

"Baby girl," she said timidly. Slowly pushing my door open she peeked in. When her eyes landed on me she gave me a soft smile. I breathed a sigh of relief once I saw she was alone. I half expected Charles to be with her since he already thought he knew what was best for me.

"Where's Charles?" I asked.

"He left. He said you and I needed to talk this out without him around," she informed me. He got one thing right, I thought.

"I can't believe he let you speak to me without him. You two seemed like you were invisibly tethered to each other." I knew I was taking petty to a dangerous level and I held my breath after my outburst, waiting for my mom to reprimand me for my disrespect. After all, I was only 14. On a regular day I wouldn't even dream of speaking to my mom in such a way but my anger had gotten the best of me.

Instead of indignant she looked pained at my words. The guilt I felt at putting that expression on her face replaced the anger I had been filled with only moments before.

"Mom I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"No," she cut me off, "You have every right to be upset with me." She ran her hands over her face before continuing on. Usually she came and sat on my bed with me whenever we were having a disagreement but she kept herself distanced from me by staying near the door. It didn't sit well with me.

"I met Charles a year ago."

My hands balled into fists. A year? The anger that had so recently subsided was making a reappearance but I vowed to myself I would silently hear her out before I made anymore judgments.

"We met at the grocery store of all places. He asked me for help picking a melon," she stopped to giggle at the memory. My mouth twitched. My mother's laughter was contagious. However, I refused to give into her so quickly.

"He had one in each hand. He was shaking them and looking back and forth between them as if he could see the inner contents." She shook her head while retelling his ridiculous antics.

My smile grew. Charles was such a dork.

"Anyway, we ended up exchanging numbers then going on a few dates. He was a gentleman and as sweet as can be. I learned he is a successful realtor, likes to travel, and has no kids of his own. He's younger than your father was. He's 38." My father had been 44 when he died while my mother had only been 32.

"Oh baby girl he was so excited when I told him about you! He said if everything worked out between him and I he would get an instant family," she enthusiastically told me.

I wasn't his instant anything, I spitefully thought. He would never take the place of my dad.

She must have seen my dubious look because she tried to reassure me, "Trust me Jasmine, I wouldn't be marrying him if I wasn't absolutely certain I love him." I knew she meant it because she only called me by my name when she was telling me something of a serious matter.

"He makes me so happy. I feel special and cherished when I'm with him." Her dreamy expression melted my rigid exterior. I closed the distance between us and enveloped her in a snug embrace. My mother's happiness meant more to me than my own. If she truly loved Charles I would support her and do my best to get along with him. He couldn't be all that bad. At least, that's what I desperately hoped.

New story whaaaat?? I shocked myself this week when I felt the inspiration to start a new story. I'm excited to be working on a new project! I will make every effort to keep updating regularly! It may be starting out slow but the background of Jasmine's character is going to be very important to the story. We'll see how she got to where she is now and what created those "inner demons."

On to brighter things, how's everyone's new year been going? Mine has been awesome so far!

Much love,
Roccs 💜💜💜