Chapter 15
fifteen
Rosalie
Isit with my face planted in Cameron’s chest for the second time in what should be an embarrassingly short amount of time. There is quite a lot to unpack here. I feel unending gratitude for this man who dropped everything and came to my house to make sure I was okay.
His embrace, paired with his comforting words, feels grounding, and some of my panic subsides. His sincerity in wanting to help lifts some of the weight I’ve felt pushing down on my chest since my brother called only hours ago.
I move back from his arms and stand, motioning for him to follow me as I quietly open the door, careful not to wake Paige before I’m ready to talk.
Cameron does a quick scan of the room, finding it almost exactly the way he left it last night, before his gaze returns to mine.
“Okay, take me to the paint spill,” he whispers. “I’ll work on cleaning up the mess while you talk to Paige.”
My heart sinks at the thought of telling her the news, but then Cameron reaches out, grabs my hand, and gives it a squeeze.
“You’ve got this, and if you don’t, that’s okay. You’re going to do your best and give that little girl some awful news in the most loving way possible. I’ll be back there cleaning if you need me, but I’m not coming out of the room until you come get me. I don’t want to interrupt.”
I nod. “Okay,” I say with a shaky breath.
I show Cameron to the spare bedroom, and he gets to work on cleaning up the mess, while I head back to the living room to wake Paige.
I stoop down and gently rub my hand up and down her arm and sweep the hair out of her face. “Hey, Paigey, it’s time to wake up.”
She stirs a bit and slowly blinks her eyes before fully focusing on me. Briefly, I worry my appearance will startle her in some way since I have no doubt my entire face is wrecked from crying, but it doesn’t. She crawls right onto my lap and hugs my neck.
She’s done this since she was little, whether in the morning or from the naps that are few and far between now, she always seems to need just a few more moments to fully wake up.
Currently, I’m grateful for these few minutes to prepare myself for what I’m going to say to her.
I stroke her hair and try to start, the lump already forming in my throat. I know I won’t get through this without crying, but I want to hold it together enough that I don’t burst into hysterics.
“Hey, baby, Uncle Carter called me while you were sleeping.”
I’m still talking to the top of her head as I hold her tight and continue. “He called to tell me something about Grandma.”
At this, Paige leans back and looks up at my face. I must have at least one tear she can see because she touches it on my cheek and says, “What’s wrong, Mommy? Was it sad news?”
“Yes, baby, it was really sad news.”
I’m holding on by a freaking thread, but don’t want to rush this. I need her to hear me the first time and be present to answer any questions she may have.
I could potentially be suffocating her, but I squeeze her a bit more and begin.
“Paige, you know how the heart beats to keep our bodies alive?”
Her head nods. “Yes, we learned that in school when we learned about the body.”
“Well,” I start as calmly as I can, “today, Grandma’s heart stopped beating, and because it stopped beating, she can no longer live.”
I think briefly of Cameron’s words, to be as clear as I can with my explanation. I want to avoid additional confusion and hurt for Paige and myself.
So, I take a deep breath and get out the words she needs to hear.
“Paige, honey, Grandma died today.”
Paige is staring at me, and I can see the realization hit her in real time, and my heart shatters. Her eyes well with tears and I can’t stop mine from matching. She reaches for my neck and clings to me, all her sadness seeping out into the grasp.
“I’m so sorry, Paigey. Mommy is going to miss Grandma so much. It’s okay to be sad and miss Grandma, too.”
Paige’s face is smashed into my neck when I hear her ask, “Did we break her heart when we left?”
Good god, I didn’t see that question coming, and it kills me to think my sweet girl feels any ounce of guilt or fault in this situation.
Suddenly, I’m overcome with the strength to pull myself together and really dive into this conversation with her so she fully understands this is no one’s fault, least of all hers or mine.
I pull her little body away from me a bit, which is a feat in and of itself as she continues to cry into my neck. But once I’m successful, I push back the hair that’s now clinging to her wet face, cup her cheeks, and bring my nose to hers.
I need her to hear me when I say these next words.
“No, baby, we did not break Grandma’s heart by leaving.
She was so proud of us for being big girls and moving away to chase our dreams. She was excited for us to live with the horses, for Mommy to start her new job, and for you to make new friends…
” I trail off, unable to continue with that train of thought.
Holy shit, this is hard. I swallow the lump in my throat and continue. “Sometimes when your body is older, parts of it can break.”
Never mind the fact that my mom wasn’t that old, but in this situation, those details aren’t important.
“Sometimes doctors can fix the heart and people are good as new; and other times, they can’t. Paigey, this time the doctors couldn’t fix Grandma, but it has nothing to do with you or me. We did not break Grandma’s heart. Do you understand that?”
She’s still crying, but she nods and her little nose rubs against mine.
“Is Grandpa’s heart going to break, too?”
I know my dad will be heartbroken for a long time to come, but that’s not what Paige is asking right now. I need to give her reassurance he’s not going to leave her, too, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“No, baby, Grandpa’s heart is going to be sad for a long time because he will miss Grandma so much. His heart might need some extra love from you, me, Uncle Carter, and Uncle Jeremy for a bit, but it’s not going to break.”
She nods again, and I hope she fully understands everything I’m saying.
“That’s why tomorrow we’re flying back to Colorado on an airplane to see Grandpa. We need to hug him and love on him so much.”
She slowly stops crying and says, “Okay.”
It’s quiet, and I can tell she’s still processing everything I said, but for now she knows the reality of the situation, and I feel relieved in navigating that conversation the best I could.
Paige sinks to the floor and picks up her crayons.
“I’m going to draw a picture of Grandma for Grandpa so he can always remember how pretty she is.”
My heart bursts with an aching sadness for our loss, but I’m thankful beyond measure Paige can rebound in this way, even when I’m not.
“I’m sure Grandpa will love that,” I say as I kiss the top of her head.
I’m emotionally wrung out.
Having to keep the extent of my grief locked inside while explaining to my seven-year-old how her grandma passed away took a strength I didn’t know I possessed. But that strength is now depleted, and I’m exhausted.
I take a deep breath, fortifying myself before I head toward the spare bedroom to find Cameron and let him know he’s free, but when I turn the corner, I gasp.
Not only has Cameron cleaned up the mess, but he’s started priming the walls.
“Oh my gosh, what are you doing?”
“It didn’t take long to clean up the mess, and I promised I wouldn’t come out until you came to get me, so I started on the walls. How did things go with Paige?”
I walk into the room to lean against an unpainted wall, but the weight of the day has me sagging to the floor. Trying to physically hold myself together, I wrap my arms around my knees, bringing them toward my chest.
“It went as well as can be expected, thanks to you and your advice, but I’m drained. I think I’ve cried all the tears I possibly can, and I just feel overwhelmed and frozen about what to do next.”
Cameron walks over and sits beside me, his shoulder touching mine is the solid presence I need right now.
“How about you let me help?”
“Cameron, you’ve helped me far more than any single person should have to. I can’t ask you for anything else.”
“Rosalie,” he says, returning the sincerity, “you didn’t ask, I offered. I’ve been where you are, so please let me help you.”
This has me replaying all our conversations over the past twenty-four hours.
I can’t believe he’s raising his daughter on his own after losing his wife.
The reminder has my heart aching, and this, compounded with the exhaustion from my own grief over the past few hours, has me laying my head on his shoulder and whispering, “I know I said this already, but I’m really sorry for your loss. ”
As the words come out of my mouth, I worry they sound cliché, but Cameron leans his head down on top of mine and returns the sentiment.
“And I’m so sorry for yours, Rosalie.”
It’s the sincerity in his voice, the knowledge of his guttural understanding of the loss of a loved one, and the kindness in his gesture that has one lone tear slipping down my cheek as I think, I’m not alone in this.