Chapter 77 Rosalie
Chapter 77
Rosalie
The rain continues at a steady pace until they’re soaked; the remnants of the cakes dissolve into pastel puddles. But they don’t care. They’re happy together, making magic and memories. Once she might have held back, but she remembers Jean-Paul’s advice: What’s the point of creating something if not to enjoy it? He encouraged her to get off the sidelines and jump in. So she jumps in, raising her hands in the air and swaying to the music and the rain.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket, but she’s not interested. She feels free and light. It buzzes again. And again. It’s a series of texts from Cassidy.
Rosie. I’m sitting here in this darn hospital bed thinking about you. Lucy once said we should write when we feel overwhelmed or afraid. She said we didn’t have to actually give it to the person, but we could “explore” our feelings, get them on the page. I admit, I laughed when she said it like that. But she said sometimes it helps. Maybe I’ll send this. Maybe I won’t.
I’m sorry I’m here and you’re there. I’m sorry I’m not with you. Though I don’t know if I was ever really with you in the way that you needed. I wish I could say that I tried, but I didn’t, not in the way a mother should. Jean-Paul’s right. That man gave me a nice kick in the ass this morning, and I deserved it. I’ve been selfish, and I’ve put my needs before yours. And as awful as that sounds, and as shameful as it is for me to write, I want you to have this small part of me, because it’s probably the most real I’ve ever been. With you. With myself.
Love never came easily to me. And I’m going to skip over the parts about my own father issues, because in hindsight, we can’t blame our parents for everything. Remember that, okay? I was given choices, over and over. Me. And I was an adult when I made those choices. And perhaps my decisions were shortsighted or just plain wrong. But when I lost your grandmother, I was terrified that what happened to her would happen to me. That I would get sick. That I would die. And somewhere in there, things got jumbled. I had to be thin. Healthy. It was the one single thing I could control. Being thin made me feel good. Having people praise my body made me feel good. It became an obsession. And I thought you had to be like me. As my child, you were an extension of me. I thought for you to feel good, you had to live your life the way I did. I was wrong.
But I’ll get to the piece that I know has been weighing on you.
You.
I know I said this earlier, but it’s worth repeating. I wanted you. If there’s anything you glean from this story, I hope it’s that. And maybe I should have told you sooner about the sperm donor, but I was stupid. Who wants to talk about sperm? No one ever accused me of being easy. The reason I’m sharing this is because I know you, Rosalie. I’ve witnessed your quest to understand, your thirst for knowledge. Renée and Jean-Paul came to me this morning. They want to be in your life. And because of that, I’m going to get myself better. If it’s what you want, stay with them and get to know them. Then when I’m done getting better, we’ll figure it out. I’ll heal quicker knowing you’re being taken care of.
I hope he gives you the answers you’ve been looking for, and I hope he embraces you in ways I could not. And if he can’t, I hope you find the strength within yourself to know that it’s not you. But something tells me he’s going to be good at this. And you deserve it.
Trust yourself as you always have.
I love you, baby girl.
Oh shoot. I hit send.
Oh. I really did this.
I’m going to do this.
Sorry for all the texts.
You know I hate these things.
Rosalie cracks a smile. Cassidy. She pulled through in the end.
She had given her so little.
This was all she ever needed.
She makes her way over to Jean-Paul. Her father. She’s not ready to call him that out loud. Yet. But she will, in time.
She passes him her phone. Renée slides her glasses on and reads over his shoulder.
“You know what this means?” Renée asks.
Rosalie knows.
But it feels nice to hear Renée say it. “It means she loves you. Very much.”
They collide like stars: she and Jean-Paul and Renée. There are lots of tears.