ROSEHAVEN

Chapter 3

BRENDA REEVES

My daughter Nancy was a naïve fool: beautiful, yes, but without an ounce of common sense.  I pressed my ear against the door of her room despite the colorful sign that told all trespassers to keep away.  She was talking to him again on her cell phone.  I could hear the usual desperation in her voice.

She’s just like her father, I thought to myself.  Glad I divorced that useless man: as for her, she is still useful to me. 

“…told you I’m not getting rid of it,” said Nancy.  “With or without you, Johnny, I’m going to have this baby.”

Nancy was quiet for awhile.  Then she spoke again, but this time she sounded even more desperate.  “Why aren’t you saying anything? No, I don’t want to text, I want to talk to you.  What’s wrong with you anyway? You’ve been acting like a jerk lately.”

Ah, the pressures of young love.  I was disgusted.  If I didn’t need her, I would have shipped her off to her father.

“But that night you’re the one who said you didn’t want to use protection,” said Nancy, her voice sounded annoyed.  “You promised even if I got pregnant you’d be there for me, for us.  Were you lying? Answer me, you asshole! No, please don’t hang… up!”

I could hear my daughter quickly punching in some numbers.  She was silent as it dialed.  A few months ago that Johnny boy would have answered on the first ring, but I knew he wouldn’t pick up this time.  I didn’t blame him for trying to distance himself from my daughter.  He was seventeen, went to high school, had a part-time job with which he couldn’t even afford to pay rent on a decent apartment, and now, on top of that, his sixteen year old girlfriend was three months pregnant with his baby.

“Johnny, I’m sorry,” said Nancy.  “Please call me back.  I really need to talk to you… I’ll text you… I love you, Johnny.”

I could hear her crying beyond the closed door, so I knocked gently, then quickly and carefully poured the fine white powder into the juice.  Today, I collect for all those years I took care of you.

“You can come in, Mom.”

I opened the door and stepped into Nancy’s room.  It looked like any typical teenaged-girl’s room, with lots of pink and purple stuff.  My daughter was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed.

“I brought you some orange juice,” I said as I handed her the glass.  “Is everything okay at school? You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

Nancy took the offered glass and showed me a beaming smile.  She then drained down the entire glass.  That’s a good girl, drink.  The powder was potent and fast-acting; I knew just a small amount of it would be quick and lethal in its result.

This is for the best, Nancy.

My daughter looked positively ill.

“Are you okay, Nancy?” I asked, feigning concern.  “You don’t look so good.”

Nancy handed me the empty glass, then ran into her bathroom and shut the door behind her.

I knew exactly what was happening to her, but I pretended I didn’t.  “Nancy, you’re scaring me.  What’s wrong?”

I didn’t receive an answer from her; instead, she suddenly screamed.

I went into the bathroom and saw the blood dripping down Nancy’s legs to the floor, staining the beige rug.  She looked horrified and stretched out her bloody hands in my direction.  There was agony in her voice when she said, “Mom… I lost my baby!”

Again I feigned ignorance, and pretended like I was surprised.  “You were pregnant?” I quickly went over to her and gave her a tight hug.  She whimpered in my arms.

“My baby…,” Nancy kept on repeating through her tears.

I watched her, emotionally unattached to her pain.  My daughter cried for several minutes.  She was weak and pathetic, so I allowed her the theatrics for the moment.

“Nancy,” I said and she looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes.  “There’s a way that you could save your baby.”

She stared at all the blood on the bathroom floor and I could see the doubt in her eyes. 

“It doesn’t have to end like this, Nancy.  I know someone who could undo all of this.”

“Who?” Nancy asked, her voice dry and raspy from all the crying she had done. 

I ran my hand through her hair.  I have to approach this very carefully.  “The first day you had your period and you thought you were going to die.  What did I tell you? Do you remember?”

A fresh river of tears emerged from Nancy’s eyes. 

I’ve never seen someone leak more water than my daughter, seriously.

“You told me,” she said between sobs, “that in a few years it won’t even be a big deal anymore.”

I smiled at my daughter and said, “And everything I said came true.  Now what I’m going to have you do will seem terrifying and even more confusing than your first period, but in a few years you’ll thank me for it.”

Nancy had stopped crying and stared at me with a hopeful look in her eyes.  “I’ll do anything to save my baby; just please tell me what I have to do, Mom.”

Finally, you’re showing some backbone! Maybe there’s a little bit of me in you after all.

“What you’re about to see will be… different,” I said to her carefully.  “However, if you want to save your baby, you can’t be afraid.  You must be strong for your baby’s sake.  It will cost you, but you said you were willing to do anything to bring your baby back.”

Nancy did not look nervous at all.  She looked more and more hopeful by the moment.  I have to keep saying baby, because that’s her motivation.

“If you want to save your baby,” I said, “then repeat these words after me…”