Page 57 of Save You
“My mother was Rosalie’s maid, a companion of sorts, only a few years older than her. Rosalie confided everything in her and my mother used to tell me Lucy’s story as a warning to not get too mixed up with those in power. To never trust the police and to never speak out. I married Edward, a clerk to one of the founding fathers, but thankfully, doesn’t treat people like they do. The man has never laid a finger on me or our children, so I consider myself lucky. I thought all of this was outdated, but after today, I shall be watching my own daughter more closely!”
“You know my story, don’t you?” I ask her quietly.
“I do now that I know who you really are, Beth, and I’m sorry. I also know your grandmother’s story. Well, up until she left, anyway.”
“Will you tell it to me?” Pru seems surprised by my question, as though she thinks I should already know it.
“One day,” she smiles after a few moments of thought, and I know she means it. “But let’s get you cleaned up and feeling a bit better again.”
Xander
Monday, possibly the most depressing day of the week, even when you don’t have any school or work to go to. For some reason, it’s just that day that makes you sigh for no other reason than because it’s Monday. However, today is the day I asked everyone to give Rosie and I some space, to let us bond without the usual crowd of grandparents, aunts, and uncles. No one dared to argue because, secretly, they think I need to be on suicide watch. However, today I had given them a hopeful smile and sounded almost positive about having some daddy, daughter time.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate my clan, but I finally feel like I need some semblance of normal; to get my girl and me into some sort of routine, or so Mom keeps telling me. Christ knows what I’m doing, I’ll be the first to admit I’m learning on the job. As far as I can tell, having a baby pretty much equals a shit night’s sleep, shit emotions, and generally feeling like you’re doing a shit job of it all. Who knew someone so small could completely take over your life, your soul, as well as make you feel inadequate on a daily basis? Suffice to say, I have a newfound respect for all parents, especially single parents like me. And as for those who don’t have anyone but themselves, my heart truly goes out to them. I may not have Beth, but I have a pretty awesome village supporting me at the moment.
After breakfast, and about an hour of dressing her, changing her, then redressing her because we had an epic back poo that meant everything needed washing, even her hair, we eventually began walking into town. It should be nice, simple, and ordinary; something I could do as part of a daily routine. We even wandered in and out of a few shops, ignoring the strange glances I got from people I was at school with only a few months ago. I get it, I’m a single dad who is halfway between eighteen and nineteen, and who never even showed a hint of having a girlfriend. Yet here I am pushing a buggy around, beaming over the fact that Rosie has finally drifted off to sleep.
“Xander?!” a familiar voice cries out in shock. To my horror, I’ve walked directly into the path of Kyle Holmes, who currently has his arm draped over a senior and a cigarette hanging from his limp, left hand. “What the hell, dude?!”
Before I can pretend like I didn’t hear him and about-turn, he’s rounding the buggy to poke his big, obnoxious head inside of Rosie’s pram, peering at her like she’s an alien creature. I pull back on the bar, not wanting his smoker’s breath anywhere near my daughter. Most people would feel insulted, but he just looks back up at me with a ridiculing grin across his face.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” he laughs, being completely at ease with his own insult. “Who did you knock up, Fenton?”
The old Xander who isn’t sleep-deprived and who is trying his very best not to risk waking up a one-month-old, would have had him up against the wall, slowly squeezing his throat with an urge to keep going until he could no longer breathe. However, I no longer give a flying shit what idiot features thinks of me, so, instead, I huff loudly and direct my attention toward his girlfriend. She’s grinning at the sleeping babe inside of the pram. Besides, I don’t want to risk Rosie having to see Kyle’s ugly face, who knows how long it would take to stop her crying over that ordeal.
“She’s so cute,” Kelly cuts in with a much more pleasing attitude. I don’t know her all that well, but she’s always seemed nice, and far too good for the likes of Kyle. “How old is she?”
“Four weeks,” I smile proudly, “she’s a handful but already has me wrapped around her little finger.”
“What’s her name?”
“Rosalie, Beth, Fenton,” I reply, taking in a large gulp of air because I haven’t actually said her full name out loud before. It sounds good to hear. “We all call her Rosie, though.”
“Beth? I take it that’s her mom?” Kelly looks like she’s trying hard to picture Beth, seeing as she wasn’t at our school for too long. “You’re such a good daddy taking her out. I bet Beth is exhausted!”
Kelly smiles softly as she continues to gush over my sleeping little bundle. Meanwhile, my heart feels as though a knife has just been run through it.
“Actually, Beth is…no longer with us,” I mutter quietly, not really sure of why I’m telling them this. The last thing I want to do is deal with Kyle and his form of verbal diarrhea over this piece of news. Slowly, they both look up at me in perfect unison with confusion written all over their faces. “She died during childbirth.”
“Shit!” Kyle murmurs just as Kelly throws her hands over her mouth in shock. “Look, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to…God, I’m sorry!”
I shrug it off awkwardly, but they both offer me hugs, and I think Kelly actually starts to cry. It’s weird, but I guess it’s the natural reaction of people over these sorts of things.
“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me. Christ, Xander, that is…I mean…” Kyle blows air out through his lips like a horse, shaking his head over the thought of it all. I smile tightly before mumbling some sort of thanks to his offer. The moment turns emotional, and I know that’s our cue to go, so I wave goodbye and head toward the beach, away from people and their sad stares.
The walk along the coastal path and off the beaten track, where I’ll find Bodhi’s beach hut house and a roaring bonfire, blows my cobwebs away. It gives me the opportunity to think about what the hell I’m going to do to try and move on, if only for Rosie’s sake. Before I’ve even realized it, I’m staring at the place I had first laid eyes on Oliver Lawrence and his ridiculous goons; where I had seen Mal draining of color when his daughter told him exactly what she thought of him; where I had seen Beth letting herself go to the beat of the music with her guardian.
I’ve not set eyes on Bodhi since we left for the cabin, before I knew Beth was pregnant, and when the little girl still lying asleep in this pram was no bigger than a peanut. I guess we’ve been ignoring one another, not wanting to remind each other of who we’ve lost. It also feels a lot like another acceptance of her being gone for good.
The beach is eerily quiet today, the weather a little stormy, which means there’s a small crowd of surfers sitting out on the water, all looking for the perfect wave. Bodhi would usually be in the middle of them, baring his tackle as he showed off his skills butt naked, and with plenty of hollering as he reveled in his most favorite place on Earth. However, today I can see him out of the water, sitting just outside of the surf, with his wetsuit halfway up his body, leaning onto his elbows which are resting lazily over his knees. He looks out to his fellow surfers, seemingly watching them ride the water, but with his eyes screwed up toward the light. Every now and then, I see his shoulders rise and fall in exaggerated movements, as though his whole body is sighing with melancholy. A gust of wind blows over his face and he shuts his eyes to it, looking like he’s desperately trying to find some peace to his troubled thoughts.
I watch him for another few minutes before I shove Rosie’s bag of crap over my shoulder, and gently pick her up in my arms to walk across the sand. I cuddle her close to my body, trying to shield her from the wind, but it’s still strong enough to make her eyes peep open. She takes in this new experience with a small frown on her face. I predict having a total of three minutes before she opens that perfect little mouth of hers to scream for food.
For now, she remains the epitome of peace, enjoying the bumpy journey over the sand to where Bodhi is still sitting. He’s bone dry, which tells me he might not yet have been in the water at all.
“I knew you’d come eventually, darling,” he smiles with his eyes remaining firmly closed. I laugh softly and decide to play along.
“How did you know it was me, baby?” I ask with theatrical affection in my voice. He chuckles over my roleplaying before composing himself so he can keep it going, battling me for the best improvisation award.