13. CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
Rose
I finished my call with Dr. Mercer and went straight into the kitchen.
Winter was the slow season at Angel Island, but Angel's Rest B if you can wait ten minutes for it to cool a little, you can have a slide," I told him.
He sat at the breakfast nook. Edgar was twenty, around my kids' age, and I treated him as I did my babies. He was earning money doing odd jobs while he went to community college, where he was studying to become a mechanic. In the meantime, he helped out around the island and was a Godsend for the B her couch wasn't big enough. Doing that while he also had to study was not conducive.
"Are you getting kicked out of your place?"
"I'll be fine. Now, what I want to know is when you'll be making mud pie again because the one you made last week is still the best I've ever eaten."
"How much money do you need?" I asked.
"Miss Rose, I ain't takin' your money." Edgar ate quietly.
I went into my bedroom and brought with me ten one-hundred-dollar bills. I put it down next to his pie.
"Miss Rose?" he gasped.
He needed the money more than I did. I had no expenses right now. My food and board came from the B I know none of that. So, I need a handyman, and you're it."
"Anything, Miss Rose. I'll do anything for you."
"Good. Then you're the Angel's Rest B he just expected me to believe it. Why? He wasn't a model husband, and everyone did think he was sleeping with Aimee. And, yet, I wasn't afforded the care or concern to be set at ease.
I'd wondered if I was selfish to walk away without a conversation. The truth was that I didn't feel like I could talk to him because I was afraid of how unpleasant it would be. And I'd had it up to here with unpleasantness!
I just wanted to be at peace and not go to bed wondering how I could end my life. Those were some dark days this fall when I was writing emails nearly on a regular basis to Dr. Mercer as soon as I began to ideate so I could get a handle on myself.
Dr. Mercer had told me that I didn't owe anyone anything—only myself. So, if I felt safest to walk out of the house, I should do that. I should talk to Gray if I wanted to for myself, not because he might want it. Being selfish, she told me, was sometimes not a bad thing—it was actually good for self-preservation to not give all of ourselves away the way I had.