The Blue Rose

28. Serena

TWENTY-EIGHT

SERENA

I t’s been three days since I’ve been with my dad and my memories returned. I stayed in my room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. Sharon keeps leaving food by the door, but I can’t bring myself to eat anything. I can’t imagine being hungry. Not right now. Not for a while. I turned off my phone, not wanting to hear from Aster again. I know he misses me and means well, but… I need time.

Time is a funny thing. One minute you're a kid without a care in the world, living your best life, then you blink and you turn into a killer who forgot everything as a way to cope with what you did.

How can I accept what I’ve done? Last time I forgot it all, but this time, after three days, I still remember. What I did for my mom was mercy; she begged me, and I hated watching her wither away, so I granted her last wish. No matter how much it destroyed me.

Jessica on the other hand? That was revenge. Revenge for everything she made me endure. She was evil, someone who got off on making others miserable, and I was her favorite plaything. I had enough. I snapped. And I couldn’t truly make myself feel sorry for what I did.

I went on her old Facebook page, and there were a couple posts, from fake people who didn’t truly know her, saying they missed her and hoped she comes home safe. Everyone thinks she ran away. Then there’s the mean messages blanketing her page, saying they hope she stays gone and pray she never comes back.

Little do they know, she never will.

The covers I’m snuggled under are keeping me warm, and the only sound is the ceiling fan going around and around.

I can’t believe my dad knew what I did and didn't tell me or try to get me help. I chew on my nails, a habit I picked up recently, one I do when I’m anxious.I know we couldn't tell anyone I killed two people, but he could have done a better job helping me cope. How did he just let me forget? Let me hate him for years? He even disposed of Jessica's body and got rid of all the evidence. It’s been five years, and we were never questioned about her disappearance. Which is weird, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

A small knock sounds on the door, making my body curl up tighter under the covers.

“Serena?” Sharon asks on the other side. “Can I come in?”

Instead of answering, I just grunt and hope she takes that as a ‘leave me alone’ demand. She doesn't. Instead, she opens the door and walks over to me, sitting on the edge of the bed. She rubs my back, my body freezing at her touch. Who does she think she is? My mom? I move away from her touch, digging myself further into my blankets.

“Honey; it’s been three days. Your father and I are worried,” she whispers in the sweetest voice.

Her voice may be sweet, but I’m not ready to talk to her or anyone. I turn away from her, not wanting to even look at her, hoping she’ll catch the hint and go away. “I know what you went through was traumatizing, and now reliving it feels earth shattering, but I wanted to let you know I’m here for you. When you’re ready to talk.” I feel the bed shift and hear the door click closed.

Finally. I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out the chaos of my thoughts. I’ll talk when I’m ready, but it won’t be to her. Even though my dad didn’t cheat on my mom, he fell for someone else too quickly after her death. He didn’t mourn her long enough. There isn’t a set time for it, but six months seems too fast especially with how long my parents were together.

They were made for one another. Their love story was my favorite, and when Mom got sick, their love never faltered, but I could see them both breaking inside.

They met when they were in college. Mom was working at the school library; her sanctuary, she claimed. She always loved reading, proclaiming it’s the best escape. When she was reading, if she was really into a book, she said it played out like a movie in her head. Sometimes when she took a break from reading and would go do something else, she would think ‘what was I just watching?’ only for it to be a book she was reading. I didn’t understand; I never found joy in reading, but after she died, I started reading her romance books. I became absorbed in the stories, like she was, and I finally understood what it meant to get lost in a book. It’s a feeling like no other. A world you never want to escape. The slump and loss you feel after reading a really good book is soul sucking, but picking up the next one brings back that high feeling.

Dad was the playboy on campus. The baseball player with a different girl every week. Never settling down, never giving his heart to anyone. Until he saw Mom. He never went to the library, avoided it like the plague. Said ‘books distract me from the game’. He needed to have better grades in order to play the game. Which meant he had to go get a book for class, but he couldn’t fathom spending his beer money on a book. Luckily, the library had a copy. He went in and saw Mom sitting in one of the aisles eating a granola bar. She was on break, reading one of her romance novels, and when dad saw her he dropped the book he was holding, claiming ‘it was love at first sight’.

They didn't get along right away. Mom knew exactly who he was and wouldn’t give him the time of day, which made Dad pursue her harder. They were a real life enemy to friends to lovers. It took a while, a lot longer than my dad was expecting, but he eventually secured her. The heart he never gave anyone, he finally gave it to my mom.

That’s why I can’t wrap my head around how he moved on so fast. I throw the covers off and shakily stumble into an upright position. My head is a little dizzy from lack of food and staying in bed for three days straight. I needed to talk to my dad, but first I needed food.

“That smells good; can you make me one, too?” Dad asks when he walks into the kitchen.

I dip my head, take out two more slices of bread and put together the grilled cheese. I slap another slab of butter into the pan watching and hearing it sizzle. My dad sits down at the kitchen table, and I can feel his eyes staring at the back of my head.

I turn off the burner and place our grilled cheeses on separate plates, grabbing a bag of cheddar Ruffles and the tub of cottage cheese in the fridge. Mine and Dad’s favorite snack. I set everything down, placing my dad’s plate in front of him .

”Thanks.”

I don’t acknowledge him. The cheese pull is so satisfying, and the crunch from the bread is exactly what I needed. Humming with delight, I do a little dance in my seat without thinking about it. I take a chip from the bag, dipping it in the cottage cheese. Dad does the same, and we smile at one another, a peace offering from me to get more information out of him. We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying our lunch.

The snack sounds gross, I know. Most people hate cottage cheese, but as a little girl wanting to eat everything her parents did, I love it. From the moment I first tried the cheddar flavor mixed with the cold curds of the cottage cheese, to when the smile spread on my dads face as my eyes lit up at the flavors, it has always been a favorite. Thinking back on the memory of how mom was disgusted by the combination and then dad chasing her around the kitchen trying to get her to try it makes this moment sitting across from him easier now. I grab a big chip from the bag and a huge dollop of cottage cheese, thinking about how Mom took her first bite and was pleasantly surprised with the taste. It became a staple snack in the Raven household from that day on.

“I’m ready to talk.” I say, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my hoodie, nervous energy surrounding us.

My dad closes the bag of chips and puts the cottage cheese back in the fridge. He's stalling, appearing to be as anxious about this conversation as I am.

“Let’s talk.”

“I don’t understand how you could move on from Mom so fast.”

His eyes widened, surprised that is what I chose to start with. “I didn’t move on fast,” he whispers, tracing invisible lines on the table. “I still love her. I will never stop loving her, but I love Sharon too.”

“How could you still love Mom but love Sharon too?” I ask, anger lacing my tone. He isn’t making any sense. You can’t love two people at once. You stop loving one person to start loving the next. The heart isn’t meant to love like that. Mom was his soulmate; Sharon is not. There is only one twin flame to each person's soul, and Mom was that for Dad.

“Serena, listen; please.” Dad grabs my hands. “Your mom was my person; I will never stop loving her, and she will always be in my heart. Sharon knows that.” He takes a deep breath, like he’s having trouble saying his next words. “When your mom got sick, we both stayed strong for as long as we could, but when we got the news from her doctor, we had a talk that night.” He starts to sniffle and looks away, squeezing my hands a little harder. “She told me she wasn’t long for this world, and, in order for it to hurt less when she left, I needed to start to let her go.” He lets out a pained laugh, tears collecting on his lashes. “I told her she was crazy, that there was no one else for me but her. Then she met Sharon, one of her nurses when things got really bad, and she had to stay at the hospital. She saw how kind her soul was and, even if it wasn’t romantic, she wanted me to meet her.” He looks at me, tears falling from his eyes. “When I met her, I was not kind, kind of how your mom was to me when we first met, but as your mom was worsening, Sharon was there for us both. We both started to love her for the person she was. Your mom…” He takes a shaky breath, his tears dripping onto the table. “She told us to be happy together after she passed. We both thought she was crazy, but after she died, we found solace in one another, and our friendship turned into love.”

Now I’m crying, my tears matching my dad’s. Mom was the one who introduced them? She pushed them to be together after she died. I can’t believe my mom would do that. She loved my dad furiously, but she didn’t want him to be alone and fall apart after she left us. It makes sense, and I guess Sharon put Dad back together after I ran away.

“How come I never saw her or even knew about her until after Mom died? Why would you hide that from me?”

“Mom wanted it that way; we made sure you were gone every time Sharon came over. She didn’t want to confuse or hurt you with what she wanted for us.”

It makes sense, but keeping it from me made me hate him, made me think he was betraying Mom and her memory. I snatch my hands from his, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why did you let me hate you?”

He smiles softly. “We do what’s best for our kids, and letting you hate me, forgetting everything that happened, was what was best for you. When you have kids one day, you’ll understand. You will do anything and everything to protect them.”

“Sharon knows what happened?”

“Who do you think knew what to do with the body?”

I fall into my chair, mouth parted, eyes wide, and staring at my dad. Holy fuck . Sharon was the one to help my dad get rid of the evidence? Why would she do that? If we got caught, we would all go to jail. She must really love my dad. I still don’t believe you can have more than one soulmate, but I’m glad Dad and Sharon found one another through mom. It’s going to take me some time to get used to seeing them together, but if mom was the one who orchestrated the whole thing, then I can accept her. Especially since she was risking jail time for me.

“She did?”

Sharon walks into the room, startling me. “I did it for you, Serena, and your dad. I knew you were hurting. I heard stories from your mom about how Jessica treated you, and I don’t blame you for snapping.”

She stands behind my dad placing her hands on his shoulders. He squeezes her hand, resting his head back on her hip. “I know you don’t know me, but I knew you through your parents. I loved you without ever meeting you; that’s why I wanted to protect you.” She walks over to me, a hesitant smile on her face. “May I?” She reaches her hands out, asking to hold mine. I hold my hands up for her to take. “I will never ever try to replace your mom. I will never be her or as amazing as she was, but I hope, one day, you will love me as I love you. I know you’re not my daughter by blood, but, in my heart, you’re my child. I could never have any children of my own. Your mom knew that, hoping we could be there for one another after she passed once you were ready. Then everything happened, and I knew your mind was playing tricks on you. I begged your father to tell you, but he was scared you’d snap again, so we decided, together, to let you hate us.” She squeezes my hands tighter. “I hope now you know the truth, we can get through all of this together and form the relationship your father and I want with you. Be a real family. A new family.”

I stand up, and she pulls me into her arms. Dad comes over and hugs both of us, tears shed between us.

“I’m sorry,” I weep.

She runs her hand down the back of my head, the caress welcomed this time. “Oh, sweetie, there is nothing to be sorry for. We’ve spent so much time being sorry for the what ifs, let's spend the rest of our time being happy.”

I bob my head up and down on her chest. I look up and sniffle, “Thank you.” Looking behind her at my dad, I give him a watery smile. “You, too.” We stand like that, embraced in one another, as the sun starts to set.

“How did you know what to do with the body?” I ask, holding onto them both.

Sharon smiles down at me. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” My eyebrows shoot up, tilting my head, she laughs. “That’s a story for another time.”

Dad just smiles, staring at her with admiration. I look back and forth between the two, wondering what hidden secret is being shared. Dad pats and rubs my head. “I promise one day we will tell you everything.”

Not wanting to unpack anything else, I eye them suspiciously, but agree.

Their secrets will be revealed all in good time.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask, rubbing the towel over the ends of my hair, now in pajamas. After three days I needed a shower. Staying stuck in that room was making me ripe. Once the hot water hit me, I felt the weight of everything lessen and wash down the drain. Sharon said she was going to make her famous baked ziti for dinner, but she used cottage cheese since none of us like ricotta. I’ve never had baked ziti before because it is always made with ricotta, but I can’t wait to try it.

She pulls the pan from the oven, placing it on the stove. “If you can set the table, that would be great.”

“I can do that.” Keeping busy and being useful is actually helping me heal. I’ve accepted what I did, but I haven’t accepted what I am. I may be in love with a killer, but that doesn't make me one. I haven't said the L-word back to him yet, but I will when I return. I honestly can’t wait to see Aster again; I’m going to pack up my things tonight and head home tomorrow. I’m starting to get withdrawals. Plus, I could use some cuddles. I snort, grabbing the dishes from the third cabinet I open. Who am I kidding; I need a good dicking.

I set the table, and Sharon brings the ziti over. We all gather around and load up our plates.

The moment the food hits my tongue, I’m sent to tastebud heaven, I close my eyes, letting out an appreciative moan. “Oh my God, Sharon, I’m going to need this recipe. Aster would love this.”

She smirks and her eyebrows lift in success. “I’ll be happy to give it to you if you tell me who Aster is.”

Dad drops his fork and cocks an eyebrow. “Yes, Serena, do tell us who this Aster is.”

I laugh. These two are so funny . “Aster’s my boyfriend.”

Sharon squeals, which startles me. “You have a boyfriend! Where did you meet? How old is he? How long have you two been seeing one another? What’s his job?”

I raise my hands up, feeling overwhelmed with their reaction, but excited to talk about Aster to someone who isn’t made up in my head. “Woah, woah, woah! Yes, I do. We met at a book bar. He's thirty-two. We’ve been seeing each other for three months, and he’s an entrepreneur.”

“Entrepreneur; so he doesn't have any money?” My dad scoffs. “Sounds like a winner.”

Sharon smacks him, shooting him a scathing look. “As long as he treats her right, and they’re happy, be nice.”

Dad rubs his arm, a sheepish look crossing his face., “Sorry, I just don’t want my daughter with a deadbeat.”

“He isn’t a deadbeat dad; he actually makes a lot of money, but I can’t tell you what he does without his permission.”

He points his fork in my direction. “I want to meet this Aster guy, see if he’s good enough for my little girl.”

“I’ll talk to him; maybe on my next trip I’ll bring him with me,” I say as I take another bite. This really is in the top meals I’ve eaten; I’m absolutely adding this to my list of foods I will be making frequently. I hope Aster likes it.

The rest of the meal we talk about everything, how my painting is going, why Dad was so mean about my business and having to keep up a face of Mean Dad to make me hate him so I wouldn’t remember. Which doesn’t make sense to me, but whatever. I want to turn over a new leaf, let the past stay in the past. He said he is actually really proud of me and has bought a couple of my pieces under different names and sent them to his friends. He shows me his pieces, and I can’t believe he has been secretly supporting me this whole time. So weird . Dad says business is booming, and Sharon says work has been going steady. She became a vet after Mom died, and couldn't be a nurse anymore. She said watching animals pass is hard, but easier than watching someone you love go. I didn’t know that, which makes her even more lovable. She gets to help and see animals all day long, and she told me I could come to her clinic and hang out sometimes. Being around the animals really lowers stress levels. I may take her up on that offer. After Dad shows me my paintings, we all say goodnight.

“I really wish you would stay longer,” Sharon says.

I give her a hug. “I know, but I need to get home and figure some things out with Aster.”

She holds me at arms length, holding my arms, and searching my face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s just we both opened up to one another about some big things, then I left without warning, so we need to talk.”

“Okay.” She eyes me skeptically. “Promise me you’ll be back soon, or we can come down there.”

I give her one last hug, enjoying her embrace. “I promise.” I shut the door to my room, stumbling over, and laying down in bed.

That was a lot of information to digest, but I’m glad they’re giving me time to process everything. That talk was exactly what I needed, and I now have a newfound respect for them both, bandaging some, but not all wounds on my heart. It will take time to become a real family, but I know we will all put in the work to get to that point. I know they’ll both love Aster. He is quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to get back to him. I can’t wait to talk about everything and grow with him. He may be a killer, but he’s my killer, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.