Talking With Rosemary

“Yeah, of course,” she said as she stepped out onto the porch. “Is everything okay?”
“Ummm,” I said, nervously as I slowly backed away from her. “Yes. I just… someone told me that I needed to tell you how I felt about something,” I mumbled.
“Oh. Okay. Would you like to sit here on the porch or walk around while we talk?” She asked.
“Umm, we can sit here. Do you have any more brownies?”
She laughed as she nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go get some.”
She disappeared into the house while I paced out in front of her house. When she came back out, she carried a huge plate piled high with small brownies cut into squares. She sat on the top stair and I sat next to her with the plate of brownies between us. I picked one up and took a huge bite before closing my eyes.
“Phoenix,” she called softly. “You can talk to me about whatever is wrong. Take your time and whenever you’re ready, I’m here to listen.”
I finished my brownie square before turning toward her. “Before I came here, I was pregnant. I didn’t get to meet my daughter and her loss still crushes me. I can’t help but be jealous when I hear someone’s pregnant. I wanted her so much. She was all of my dreams come true. It makes me feel like a failure all over again. It’s not that I don’t think you shouldn’t be a mother, it’s just my emotions over her loss. I was really hurt last night,” I rushed to tell her, dropping my eyes from hers.
“Oh, Phoenix. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I would never have talked so much about my pregnancy if I had known,” she murmured as her face fell.
I wiped a tear out of the corner of my eye. “I should have told you last night. I am not trying to upset you. I just wanted you to know. I guess it’s part of what I have to do while I’m here.”
“You have every right to be upset. I should have asked before I spoke so much about it. Are you alright today? I hope I didn’t make you feel bad for too long.”
“I grieved a lot last night.” I gave a nervous laugh. “I grieved freely last night. I didn’t have to hide or stop because my husband came home. I didn’t have to worry about being punished because I was crying. It- it felt good.”
“Good. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you can come and cry on mine.”
“Thanks, Rosemary. That means a lot to me.”
“I used to be a nurse in the E.R.,” she said.
“That’s a hard job,” I told her in awe.
“It is. I met a lot of different people there. I dealt with gunshot wounds, stabbings, broken bones, drug overdoses, and people who were afflicted by many different mental illnesses. The women who lost their children, whether it was through an accident or a miscarriage, always touched my heart the most. The amount of grief, heartbreak, and sorrow they exhibited alway sent me home crying. It was one of the hardest situations that I ever dealt with at work,” she told me. “So, I understand why hearing about my pregnancy is hard for you. I promise to be more respectful in the future.”
“Would it be too forward if I asked you why you are here?” I inquired curiously.
“Not at all. There was a schizophrenic patient that came in a lot. He came in close to a hundred times in the two years that I worked at the E.R. One night when I was walking to my car, he kidnapped me. He took me to a cabin where he tried to exorcize me because he thought that I was taken over by the devil. He kept me hostage for 6 days before the police found me and ended up shooting him. I was in the hospital for almost a month. His way of punishing me was to break my bones or cut me.” She traced a scar on her chest. “He was always so sweet to me before that day.”
“Why did he kidnap you?”
“The voices in his head told him to. They told him that I needed to be saved from the Devil. He tried so hard to do what they told him to do. He didn’t realize what he was doing was wrong. His mom, who was his caretaker, had passed away two days prior to his last hospitalization, and I think he had a mental breakdown that would have been better off being admitted to a psych ward. I should have pushed harder for a bed to open up for him, but I trusted my boss when they said he could wait out the 24 hours for a bed to open up. When I left the hospital, I ended up at a bar and going home with a strange man.” She paused to give a little laugh. “That was a hell of a night. I’m not sure why he even took me home. I had a cast on my right leg and my left arm. I was a mess. When I woke up, I was here.”
“What happened to the man?” I asked, fully invested in her story.
“You met him. Taco was that man. He stayed here with me because I was scared to be alone, and being with the big bad biker man made me feel safe. We’ve been inseparable since. He’s such a great guy.”
I smiled at her. “That’s such an amazing love story.”
“Thank you.”
“You two deserve everything. I am truly very happy for you,” I told her.
“Thank you. I know that you will find your happily ever after too. Please don’t hesitate to come talk to me if you need to. I will listen,” she said softly.
“I won’t. I feel better now. I feel relieved that I didn’t lose a friend.”
“Never! Well, not over that anyway. What are you doing today? Do you want company?” She asked.
“No. I’m okay. I am supposed to be waiting at my house for Mister’s next task and I left. I should get home before he kicks me out for disobeying him,” I joked.
She giggled before leaning toward me to hug me. “Alright. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“The same goes for you,” I told her.
“Thanks.”
I got up and quickly made my way back to my house. Sugar met me at the door, wagging her tail and doing little spins while she barked excitedly at me. I patted her head as I walked in, heading straight for the kitchen to check her bowls. I frowned when I walked in and saw an envelope laying on my island. I was really starting to hate envelopes. They very rarely held anything good here. I picked it up, opening it with trembling hands. There was nothing but the words *‘congratulations for completing task 2’* on the front. I turned it over, exhaling when I read my next task. *‘Find a coping skill that works when you have negative feelings.’* I sat down in the chair at the island while I thought about the task. What could I do to make myself feel better? I was not sure if crying would be acceptable. I guess I had my work cut out for me this week. I sighed as I sat back in my chair, looking down at Sugar for a moment before lifting my watch to my mouth.
“R.H.M.?”
“Yes, Phoenix?” Came his instant reply.
“When this says find a coping skill, does it mean anything? Or does it have to be specific?” I asked.
“It can be anything positive that pulls you out of a funk,” he answered.
I lowered my wrist from my mouth. “Oh, yeah, this is going to be hard,” I mumbled, unsure if I would be able to find one that would help my grief.
I put my head on my arms as I began to wonder if this was just Mister’s way of making me leave, because it was going to be near impossible to find an effective coping skill in a week.
“I’m going to fail,” I muttered defeatedly. “And then I will have to leave. But I promise that when I do, I will take you with me Sugar. Because right now, you’re the only one that I can depend on.” I giggled and wrapped my arms around her when she jumped up into my lap. I kissed her snout. “I love you too, Mama Sugar Bear.”