Bouquet: Sequel to 'In Full Bloom': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 3) (15 page)

“Mark.  Bring her back here,” Grandma Jo called from down the hall.  “We found a robe.”

“Where to?” Mark hollered back, picking up Sami.

“Her bedroom,” Grandma Jo called.

“I’ll wait outside,” David mumbled, anxious to leave the scene.

“Not necessary,” Mark replied, moving down the hall.

“I would just feel better about it,” David said, stepping outside.

At the door of the bedroom, Mark smiled, seeing the bed covered in a sheet.  “You got this?” he asked as he placed Sami down on the bed.

“Yes,” Linda answered.  “You may leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mark chuckled.  “Call me when you are done.”

Leaving the two women to tend to the problem, Mark saw Molly and Ollie standing in the middle of the hall.  Kneeling before them, he reached out and petted them.  “Let’s join David on the porch, shall we?” he said, moving in the direction of the door.

***

FOURTEEN

H
alf an hour later, Mark merged into the slow line of cars on the interstate.  The now-dry Sami was secured in the passenger seat next to him.  Glancing at her, he was thankful her eyes had stayed closed during the changing of her clothes, as well as during her entry in the truck.  He prayed that they would remain closed. The sight of her unfocused gaze would spook anyone who saw her.  Glancing into the rearview mirror, Mark caught Linda’s worried expression.  “Have faith,” he offered.

“I was just thinking about how much I have missed her,” Linda sighed, running her hand over the box which held Sami’s journals.  “Her journals?”

“Yes.  What about them?” Mark asked, recalling his directions to David to place them in the cab.

“I didn’t even know she had them,” Linda said softly.  “She never spoke about them to me.”

“You’re curious?” Mark asked.

“Yes and no,” Linda admitted.  “Have you read these?”

“Only a few entries,” Mark shared, “the ones concerning her wedding and the last one written before the accident.”

“Last one?”

“Yes.  She has not written since then,” Mark answered.

“They are all before the accident?” Linda asked, concerned.

“Yes,” Mark affirmed.

“I am in them?”

“That is a safe bet,” he answered, seeing her hand push the box away from her. 
Interesting,
he thought, holding back the question to ask her to explain her action.  He could tell by the expression on her face, she would soon give him the answer without him having to ask. 

“I was ten when I first met Sami,” she started softly.  “Our family moved to Arizona from Iowa because of my younger brother’s health.  Sami’s father was an army buddy of my father, and he became our family doctor.  Since Sami and I were the same age, we were thrown together.  I remember her being very shy.  I was the opposite; I became a rebel.  Even at ten, I resented being taken away from my friends because of my brother.  I did everything in my power to show my unhappiness, which included being a real troublemaker. I hate to admit it now, but in the beginning, I was mean to Sami.  I wanted her to hate me.  However, instead of shying away from me, she became like me, picking up all my ugly attitudes.  The selfish child I was embraced the power I had over her.  The things we did over the years. The things I made her do make me physically ill to remember them.  I am surprised we survived those years.  It wasn’t until we became college roommates that I truly got to see Sami for who she was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sami is a chameleon, Dr.  Stevens,” Linda stated. “She adapted to the influences around her.  Prior to becoming roommates, our contact was not only under my rules, but my friends, also.  We didn’t attend the same schools until then.  She was a straight-A student. The first month of college was tough on her.  She was trying to meet everyone’s expectations and she suffered from it.  Witnessing her struggle opened my eyes, and I changed.  I didn’t want to be the reason for her pain.  I sought professional help.  I owe everything I am now to her.  She saved my life.”

“You never spoke to Sami about any of this?” Mark asked.

“Never,” Linda affirmed.

“You never thought about suggesting professional help for her?” Mark asked.

“No,” Linda confirmed.  “I thought it was me who needed it.  Like I said, she adapted to me.  Everything smoothed out after my treatment.  It wasn’t until the encounter in the hospital that I began questioning her stability.”

“When did you learn about Rosemarie?” Mark asked.

“College,” Linda shared.  “We had twin sisters living in the dorm during our second year.  That is when she told me the entire story, telling me to never share it for it was too painful for her parents.”

“She hides from pain,” Mark stated.

“Yes,” Linda replied, pointing to the box.  “Don’t read these, Dr.  Stevens.”

“The name is Mark,” he informed her.  “Welcome to the team, Linda.”

“Are you going to read them?”

“I must,” Mark answered.

“Then, burn them after you read them,” she directed.

“I cannot,” he stated, seeing her anxious face in the mirror.

“Then, at least hide them from her,” she stressed. “They will not do her any good.  I have forgiven myself for my actions involved in her past.  I just don’t feel she would forgive me if she travels down this path.”

“Linda, listen to me,” Mark began.  “Forgiving yourself is what matters in life. Don’t seek Sami’s forgiveness.  Her continuing friendship with you before the accident speaks of her acceptance of you.  If she holds any disregard for your shared past, you would have sought her forgiveness before.  Just knowing that your past could be written on those pages has you doubting yourself.  Give yourself a hug.  Hold on to the basic fact that those books are a history and cannot be rewritten. Don’t allow the fear of the unknown to hurt you.”

“My mind hears you, Mark.  It is my heart that is troubled,” she admitted.

“It is your heart which compelled you to make your offer for AJ,” Mark stated.

“Correct.  And, it is guilt for having a hand in creating her altered state,” she admitted.

“You’ve thought about this a great deal?” Mark asked.

“Every day since the accident,” she confessed.

“Let it go.  Put it to bed.  Stop the guilt,” Mark ordered.  “Forgive yourself.  You have paid your dues.”

“What about AJ?” she asked softly.

“Answer this question for me.  Do you see him as himself or as an extension of Sami?” Mark asked, suddenly concerned about the boy’s mental health.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Does it make a difference?”

Mark gripped the steering wheel hard to steady his growing sense of dread.  “Yes.  He is not Sami,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I know that,” she cried.

“He is six now?” Mark calculated.

“Just.”

“Tell me about him,” Mark directed, seeing his knuckles turn white due to the pressure in his hands.

“He is a great kid,” Linda replied, eyeing the back of Mark’s head.

“Define great,” Mark requested.

“He is smart, witty, outgoing.  .  .  Everyone loves him, especially his soccer coach,” Linda offered.  “I have not coddled him.  My family will not allow me to do it.  He is all boy.”

Mark eased his grip on the wheel and let out a huge breath.  Linda’s laughter behind him grated on him. “What did you expect for me to say,” she asked.  “That he was disturbed, . . . a brat?”

“He was a preemie.  I really didn’t know what to expect,” he answered, hoping to take her focus off his distress.

“Yes, he was.  He only weighed a little over four pounds at birth, but he quickly added weight.  They released him to me when he was three weeks old.

“Has Sami seen him?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if she made the connection. Before he entered preschool, I brought him over to her house once a month.  He knows she is his mom. . . and that she is unwell.  I stopped bringing him when his moods altered after the visits,” she answered.

“Altered?”

“Yeah.  He would be quiet for days,” Linda said.

“And, the questions got harder?”

“Yes,” Linda answered, looking down at her hands.

“Is that when you stopped going over?”

Linda’s head jerked up.  “I didn’t tell you that part.  How did you know?”

“Natural course,” Mark informed her.  “I saw it in your face when you first saw Sami on the couch.  How long has it been?”

“Face-to-face, two years.  I do call her every Monday.  Not once in those two years did she not answer my call.  It is the reason I drove over to her house this morning,” she shared.

“What did you expect to find when you got there?” he asked, keeping her face in line with the mirror.

“I .  .  .,” Linda stammered.

“Never mind,” Mark said.  “I can plainly see what you thought.  It is written on your face.”

“I know it is wrong to feel that way, but I have prayed for so long that she be at peace.  What she has been going through this past six years is not living,” Linda defended her thought.

“I am surprised you went to her house alone,” Mark stated, “especially, if you believe her to be dead.”

“There was no one else,” she said. 

“You are not alone anymore.”

“I cannot tell you how that makes me feel,” she shared.