The House of Roses (19 page)

If Rita had been facing away from the stove, Caitlin would have seen the dark shadow cross her face. But, the shadow went unnoticed, as did the sadness that accompanied it.

“
Mmm hmm,” Rita said, without turning. A moment later she did turn around with a bottle of formula in each hand.

“
Which one do you want?” Rita asked.

“
I'll take Rogan. I didn't hold him much last night,” Caitlin said.

“
Okay, I'll take Hannah then.”

“
So, what's going on in the shop today?” Caitlin asked, sitting at the table with her son in her arms.

“
Mr. Robles died,” Rita answered, as she lifted Hannah from the stroller.

“
Diana Robles's father?” Caitlin asked.

“
Yes. He had a heart attack last week.”

“
That's too bad. He was a nice man.”

“
Yes, he was. He was Ella's friend years ago.”

“
Was that before or after she knew Charles?” Caitlin asked, and she heard Rita inhale sharply.

“
After. John Robles was Charles's best friend.”

“
Mom, what's going on?  Is something going on with Ella, or with you, or with both of you?”

“
Not really, Cate,” Rita lied. “It's just frightening to grow old. Your friends die and suddenly you're all alone.”

“
I'd hardly consider you alone now,” Caitlin said, with a smile Rita didn't return.

“
I wasn't aware you knew about Charles,” Rita said, sounding far more casual than she felt.

“
I didn't, well not really. I asked Ella about her ring a long time ago, and she told me she'd been in love once. Nathan told me the rest yesterday.”

“
How did that come up?”

“
I don't know. We were just talking about Ella, I think.”

“
He was a nice boy,” Rita said wistfully. “It was a shame what happened.”

“
I can imagine. I feel sorry for Ella,” Caitlin offered, and Rita sighed. “No wonder she asks about Colin and me all the time. She must think we're idiots for throwing away something so special.”

“
I'm sure that's why,” Rita replied, without looking at her daughter. She was afraid to, for fear that Caitlin might see dishonesty in her eyes, and in Caitlin's eyes, she might see doubt.

Twenty-two

Colin woke up on Tuesday morning in Spokane, Washington, surrounded by memories of his youth. He had spent many hours in Aunt Sadie's house, and the room in which he'd spent the night, was much like he remembered. He stretched and yawned, and walked to the window. The day was beautiful, the sun bright, the neighborhood familiar. He could hear his aunt downstairs, speaking to the dogs, and he smiled as he listened to her. He had been afraid to come, but that fear had dissipated, and in its place was a feeling of peace. He was right to come. He felt foolish about all of the years he'd blamed a tiny dog for an accident, a cruel act of fate.

There was someplace else he wanted to go, and he thought of it as he showered quickly, and dressed in the same shorts he'd worn to the beach. He reached into the left pocket and the little horse was where he had left it. He pulled it free and held it up to the light. He couldn't remember where it had come from, but it didn't matter. What mattered was where it had been, and he marveled over finding it. It was nothing short of a miracle.

He bounded down the stairs, feeling like a young boy, with an older man's knees.

“
Morning,” his aunt sang from where she stood at the kitchen sink.

“
Morning,” he said, sneaking up behind her, and kissing her cheek. “I'm glad I came,” he admitted, and she turned to him and smiled.

“
I'm glad too, Colin. It was long overdue. Are you staying the day?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“
I am. I'm on the Red Eye tonight.”

“
Oh, the Red Eye. I don't know how you young people do that.”

“
We do, just not as often as we used to,” he said and his aunt smiled.

“
What's on your agenda today?” she asked.

“
I'd like to go to the cemetery,” he said, helping himself to coffee. “How about you?”

“
I actually took the day off. My nephew is here. It's practically a holiday.”

“
You still at the store?”

“
Yes, although we call it a boutique now. I spend my days selling overpriced bobbles to snotty old ladies.”

Colin laughed. “I've missed you.”

“
I've missed you too, Colin. If you'd like, I could go to the cemetery with you,” Aunt Sadie said softly, turning to look at him, “for moral support,” she added.

“
I'd like to go by myself, if that's all right. Actually, I'd like to take Tiger,” he said, looking around for the dog he had befriended again the previous night.

“
He'd like that. When were you thinking of going?” Aunt Sadie asked, and Colin felt something deep inside him tighten in response.

“
I'm thinking when I finish this coffee,” he said. “Before I chicken out,” he added, in little more than a whisper.

“
I understand,” Aunt Sadie said.

Colin stood leaning against the sink, and before he knew it, he was looking into an empty cup. “Okay,” he said, sounding braver than he felt. “You got a leash for this little shit?” he asked, as Tiger appeared in the doorway.

“
It's in the can by the door. There are bags there, too,” she said.

“
You put him in a bag?” Colin asked, laughing loudly.

“
It's for the pooh,” his aunt said shyly.

“
We do that in New York, too,” he said with a smile. What a difference a day made. Yesterday he was speaking in front of some of the most esteemed doctors in the country, and a day later, he'd be crouching to pick up dog shit with a crumpled WalMart bag.

“
Okay, I'm off,” he said from the front door. Tiger sat by his feet, kicking up dust particles with his wagging tail. The dust caught the light, and Colin smiled at he watched. For a moment it looked as though the dog was the center of a snow globe, as the dust danced in the rays of morning sun.

“
Ready, chief?” he asked, stuffing two bags into the left hand pocket of his shorts. He checked to make sure the horse was still there. It was.

He opened the front door, and the dog took off like a shot. Despite the dog's size, it took a moment for Colin to match its rhythm, but a moment later, they were walking along at a brisk pace, each keeping perfect time with the other.

“
You like a walk, huh, buddy?” he asked the dog, who'd begun to sniff excitedly at the edge of the neighbor's lawn. “That didn't take long,” Colin said, averting his eyes to offer the dog privacy.

Colin took a bag from his pocket and scooped up the pungent mess. He tied it as his aunt had demonstrated, and it swung from his left hand, as the two continued their walk. He wished they were going any place else, but he knew he had to say goodbye to the parents he'd adored.

In less than ten minutes Colin stood outside St. Anne's cemetery. He lingered for a moment, staring at the gate. He remembered the day clearly, nearly six years before, when he'd sat stone-faced in the back of the limousine, a weeping Aunt Sadie pressed against his side. Tiger took two steps back and whined, returning Colin to the present with a start.

“
It's okay, buddy,” he said to the dog. He reached down, picked up the animal, and tucked the dog under his arm. He couldn't remember how old the dog had been when his parents had died, and he wondered if the long walk had tired him.

“
I'll carry ya for a bit,” he whispered to the dog, who responded by licking Colin's chin.

Colin stepped into the cemetery, and followed a path he remembered. He'd only been there once, but still he recalled exactly where his parents were laid to rest, as if he'd been there every day. The plots that had been merely dirt covered years before, were now shrouded with grass, and a stone had been erected where there had once been nothing but a tiny marker. He knelt down, sat the dog beside him, and traced the words on the stone with the second finger on his right hand.

The granite was cool beneath his touch, and he was surprised by the powerful emotions the stone evoked. He stood and stepped back, reading the words out loud.

“
Maynard Thomas, beloved husband and father, July 18
th
1940 – March 13
th
2003. Sarah Louise Williams Thomas, beloved wife and mother, June 12
th
1941 – March 13
th
2003.”

Colin spoke the words clearly, and his voice never wavered. But once he fell silent again, his tears came in great sobs, and he fell to his knees in the cool grass.

“
Mommy,” he whimpered, sounding like a small boy. “Dad,” he whispered. He shed the tears he couldn't cry that day six years ago. Today they seemed to fall forever, until finally he was spent. He glanced at the WalMart bag by his side, and chuckled.

“
I brought Tiger,” Colin said. The dog lay quietly with his head on his paws, but he sat up at the sound of his name. “We're good now, huh, buddy?” Colin asked the dog, who had taken several steps toward the stone. The dog sniffed the granite with trepidation, and then laid in front of it.

“
You know,” Colin said to the dog, and although it seemed crazy, and it wasn't a question, he would have sworn the dog nodded his head in response. “I'd take you home with me if I could, but your girlfriend would probably miss you.” The dog lifted his head and stared at Colin. Colin patted his leg, and almost immediately, Tiger was at his side.

“
I'm going to get a dog,”  Colin said, for whose benefit he wasn't sure. “For Mia,” he added, and although his heart felt heavy, his words sounded light. “I want you to be proud of me,” he whispered to the stone in front of him. “That's all I ever wanted,” he added, and he was surprised when his tears came again.

He sat for several minutes with the sun against his back, and he thought of the words his aunt had said. His father had been a great man, and Colin was proud of him. He had lived with dignity and integrity, and he had died the same way. He had died for the woman he loved, and Colin closed his eyes and wondered again if he was as good a man as his father. He would be proud to be half as good a man.

“
Mom,” Colin whispered.

He suppressed the urge to whimper again as he thought of her. He supposed it was common to put those who were gone on a pedestal, to make them more or bigger than they were. But Colin didn't think he was doing that. He remembered his parents as they were. They didn't need to be more. He kept his eyes closed and suddenly memories of their day at the beach came again. His mother was running, chasing his father, and her long brown hair was blowing in the wind. “Manny,” she had called through her laughter, and the wind had carried her words, and Colin remembered the delight in her voice. His father had turned and smiled at the wife and son he'd adored, and Colin smiled through his tears at the memory. Although he missed them, more than mere words could ever express, he felt peaceful knowing wherever they were, they were together, running in the wind, someplace far beyond what the human eye could see.

“
Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad,” he whispered, saying the words he couldn't say the last time he'd stood in the cemetery.

He stood and wiped his eyes. He turned to go, then remembered the bag.

“
Better not forget this,” he said, leaning down to pick up the bag. The dog still sat looking at the stone, and Colin watched him without speaking. Animals were incredibly intuitive, and Colin wondered if the dog was saying his own goodbye.

“
Come on, buddy,” Colin said to the dog, who followed him obediently. Colin fingered the small horse in his pocket, and for a moment he considered leaving it in the cemetery, but he couldn't part with it, this treasure from his past, and the memories attached to it, and he knew his parents would understand.

As he followed the path out of the cemetery, he promised himself he would return in June. He would stand proudly as his aunt wed the man she loved, the man Colin prayed was worthy of her. He would come, alone if he had to, but hopefully with Caitlin at his side. He'd had a love worth dying for, he simply hadn't known it at the time. But he knew now, and this knowing brought a sense of urgency to reclaim his lost love. He had to fight to get her back; he had to try. He owed that much to Maynard and Sarah Thomas. If he didn't fight, if he didn't try, he wasn't the man his parents had raised, the boy they had loved with all their hearts.