Violets Are Blue

Chapter 3: Abigail

I was with the love of my life. Marcus. We were sitting on the couch looking at a romantic movie. He was in his usual suit. He just came home from work. Violet was already asleep by then. I was wearing a nice purple nightgown, trying to look sexy for him. He held me and kissed my neck. I always loved it when he did that. It was the little things that make up love, the things that he knew made me happy for the past six years.
The movie was about a young lady who had to choose between her family or the man she loves. In the end she decided to choose her lover of course. It made me think of Violet. I always felt like Marcus had to choose between me or Violet. Of course he
always found ways to choose us both. Still Violet was merciless in her hatred toward me.
“You enjoying the movie baby?” Marcus asked me. Using his words to pull me from my thoughts.
“Of course sweetie.” I replied. “Do you like it too?”
“Yeah, because you picked it.” He said, allowing me to rest my head on his
chest. The fabric he wore smelled like him. I always enjoyed it. “But of course anything you pick I have to like.”
We both laughed.
I married the perfect man. I had my past experiences with men. All ended
horribly. I was a little cautious when I first met him, but he warmed up to me in the first seconds. We’ve been happy ever since.
What he didn’t tell me on the first date was his ex-wife, and daughter. Of course by then it didn’t matter. I loved Marcus too much. I never understood how Rose could give up her daughter, and someone like Marcus for something so…. Life altering. Violet
at first was nice to me. She was just a young child, but as she grew she began to loathe me.
I turned back to Marcus. He was smiling at me, with his dark eyes, “Do you love my daughter, baby?” He said.
It was such an unexpected question. “Of course I do. I love her just as much as a mother could love a daughter, and no matter what happens I will take care of her.” I said on instinct. It was the truth. I did love her. I would say I tried my best to be a mother figure at best. I guess I failed along the way.
“Then why does she hate you?” Another unexpected question. “Why do you let her feelings dictate your life. You’re barely even trying to get to know her.”
I couldn’t speak. Literally. I felt my mouth disappear. The whole world around me was becoming blurry and disoriented. It was just Marcus and I in a dark void. Or at least I thought it was him. He disappeared disintegrating and moving like wind. Violet appeared in front of me this time. She was wearing her funeral clothes.
“You let my father die, you white bitch.” She had an angered look on her face now. “You’re the reason why I never felt loved by him. You’re the reason why my mother is an addict. Because of you, he died. You deserve to suffer.”
I woke up sweats. I’ve been having the same dream since Marcus died. I guess it was because I was lost now. I don’t know what to do about Violet. Marcus was the only connection between Violet and I. Worst case scenario the dreams could be a sign of onset depression.
I dressed myself up for the day, clasping my key encrusted necklace I got on my first anniversary with Marcus. He says it was the key to his soul.
I chose to wear a nice yellow dress with a yellow blazer. I tied my hair in a nice tight bun. My dress felt a little tighter than usual. I must have been bloated. I would have checked myself in the mirror but I was in a hurry. I had an appointment with the CPS
caseworker. I wanted to ask her about Violet. Marcus never told me about the past between Violet and Rose, unless it was when I really needed to know. His own wife.
I knocked on Violet’s door on the way out. I wanted to make sure she was up for school. There was no answer. I opened the door and she was already gone. Like always. She always left for school earlier than usual so she wouldn't have to lay her eyes on me.
I arrived at the CPS building and made it to the case-worker's cubicle. We were surrounded by others but they didn’t pay no mind to us. They were too busy with their own troubles.
The caseworker was named Maria Lopez. She was wearing the same suit. It must have been her uniform for her job. I sat down. I was a little uncomfortable being here. I should know everything about Violet but I don’t. Not exactly a good start for a single mother. Well that was a little too good for me. The way Violet acts and treats me, I was barely making it out that front door alive.
“Hello, what can I do for you today?” Mrs. Lopez asked.
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Lopez.” I tried to keep it as formal and professional as I can. Mostly out of nervousness. “I would like to know about Violet’s past, especially the history between her and Rose. Hopefully something that can better
Violet and I’s relationship. It hasn’t really been easy lately.”
“I understand. Losing a father can be hard.”
I nodded, but I knew she would never understand. She can hear it all she wants but won’t be listening. She’s just doing her job.
She pulled out the very same leather bag that carried all the files of Violet. She pulled out one page that I guess summarized it all. “According to these files your late husband said that Rose Jefferson was a main influence in Violet’s life. Violet looked up
to her. She was so young that she just thought when her mother was on drugs that was normal. They have a more meaningful bond that she does with her father. Rose although was seen calling Violet to be a burden, a pet, nothing more than a connection to money for her. The last thing Rose told Violet after the divorce was finalized was that you were the reason they split up.”
“Is that why she hates me? Because Rose told her I was a bad person?”
“No,” she said, “I believe Violet hates you because Rose hates you. She looked up to her mother, and liked what she liked, and hated what she hated. Yes at first Violet was nice to you, but after Rose managed to get visitation, as a way to get Marcus back, she started to change. At first she ignored you, then she attacked you. Baring the same teeth and claws as her mother. My guess is that Rose brainwashed her in a failed attempt to push you away from your late husband.”
I wish Rose wasn’t so spiteful. So spiteful she had messed with daughter’s head. Maybe she didn’t.
“Is there anything I can do to fix this?” I asked.
Mrs. Lopez thought for a moment. My guess she was thinking of all the cases
she has done and trying to combine them into one solution. “The best you can do is try to reason with her. Get to know her more. Understand where she is coming from.”
She was right. Violet just lost her father. Maybe space is what she really needed.
I wish Violet understood that I lost the love of my life, and that I’m trying to be strong for her. To show her that we can get pass this dark and long obstacle. She of course mistook it for not caring for him at all. At least that’s what I see from my point of view.
I remember when she was about nine. Marcus and I were married for about a year now, and Rose had visitation for about a month. I didn’t know she was an ex drug addict, or at least a good addict hiding it all. I found out a year later though when she lost her said visitation rights. I was sitting down at the table and Marcus was looking at us both from the kitchen. He won a case that day and celebrated by cooking something wonderful.
Violet was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. She was looking at me. Her eyes were dark and deep. Just like her father’s. There was although a smidge of anger shining off of them, like a lion ready to attack its prey.
“Is something wrong?” I had asked her.
“You not my momma. You only with my daddy to make my real momma mad.”
Marcus scolded her that day. For the rest of the night I wondered what I done wrong to deserve that. The next day I asked her if there was anything wrong. We were getting along so well. She refused to answer me. Ever since that day it went downhill. I accepted that she hated me. I tried so hard to get through to her. I eventually gave up though falsely hoping she would just come back around. Obviously she never did.
I came back to the present. I went into my husbands office once home. He
usually locks the door but my key necklace opened it. He held his most personal notes in here. He encrusted a key as a symbolic gesture rather than being actual jewelry.
Marcus’ office was between Violet and I’s rooms. I decided to clean it up. Put the books up, make it look neat, something that this room has never been.
I found myself in nostalgia. It hasn’t been touched since his death. I decided to leave it all alone, it would be a reminder to me that he was here. That he lived. That he existed. That in someway he was still here in this home. I falsely hoped that one day I
would walk into here and he would be in his desk, working.
The room was cluttered with books on the floor so I decided to at least pick them up. I bent down to pick up one of the books and found my lower back hurting. I called our family doctor and scheduled an appointment. Someone would think that I was being overly cautious, but this has been persistent. Maybe just a few days.
I picked up one book. It was a book of Marcus’ history in his law firm, he had it printed and turned it into a leather bound book. He won so many cases. This gave me the idea that maybe he had something about his personal life in here. The life he never
told me about. Hopefully it would shed some light about Violet and Rose, and maybe I can connect to her.
I searched and searched every shelf. I looked in his desk, trying my best to keep the clutter and mess original. I did find personal notes that only dated back to our marriage, and it was just about He and I. Nothing more. I was a little upset with myself.
I shouldn’t be so nice to false hope, it sure hasn’t been so nice to me.
I spent the rest of the day killing time by watching tv, and reading. I ate more snacks than I usually do.
It was getting late. The sun was setting and Violet was nowhere to be found. I waited near the door for her. I know she was OK, but I need to know where she is at all times. I was her guardian, if anything happened to her I wouldn’t forgive myself, especially if there was something I could have done about it.
The door finally opened. I was already standing up.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“None of your damn business.” She shot back. I got so used to her taunts
already. I looked at her with sympathy. I could only blame her mother.
“Violet please, you know that’s not true.”
“Well I don't want your help. I never even wanted you here in the first place but you just had to pop up between my parents.”
My feelings were beginning to get hurt. She was just trying to be like her mother.
“Violet you know I never did that.” I said. She had to know it was true. She couldn’t be that deep in denial.
“Just shut the hell up.” Violet retaliated. She stomped her way upstairs. I heard her slam the door. All I can do was talk to her. She tries her best to be my opposite, how
could I reason with her? She refuses to even acknowledge the smallest percent that I might be right. At least we were done talking, arguing really.
I made dinner. Homemade spaghetti. I walked up the stairs and laid the plate in  front of Violet’s door. I knocked on the door and quickly ran myself downstairs. I sat on the last steps. I waited for Violet to open the door and close it. I made myself a plate and another one after that.