~ Andrea

Why? Why does this have to happen now? Why now when we’ve traveled so far from Wisconsin, when Rose has come so far and is starting to be happy?

I’ve been asking myself these questions over and over since last night, unable to sleep after she had her nightmare. Now, here I am in the patio, sipping coffee by myself and still, I have no answers.

I slouch my shoulders, letting my chin fall on the cool surface of the table with a sigh. Why do things always end up the worst just when you think everything is going smoothly? Why does happiness have to slip through your fingers just when you’ve almost reached it?

Is this still about Rose?

I frown then slap my cheeks as I straighten up in my chair. There’s no use crying over spilled milk. There’s no use asking why. Now that it’s happened, what I should be asking is what I should do? What I should be dwelling on is the future, not the past.

Where do we go from here?

There is only one way – forward. Yes, what happened to Rose is bad and it’s pushed us back maybe even further than square one. But it’s not all bad. She has to deal with her father’s death at one point.

Death. Does a six-year-old girl even know what that means?

Then again, I remember attending a conference where the speaker, a renowned psychologist from France, did say that children can understand death as early as the age of three. Well, not fully understand it. I don’t think anyone can. But they know what it means – that something is gone forever, that it can never be brought back. They may not know yet that death is inevitable, for everyone including them, and they may not know exactly what goes on when a person dies or how exactly a person dies but they know that something or someone, once dead, can never be seen again.

Rose will never see her father again and the sooner she understands that and accepts it, the better.

Yes, I think as I lift my mug and take a sip of my coffee. Rose may be hurting now and in turn, Clay and I are, but this may actually be a good thing. It may even be the best thing for her.

By dealing with her father’s death, Rose will be able to genuinely start over, instead of simply running away or hiding her head in the sand. If she does that, the past will simply catch up with her and pull her back.

You mean like it did to you?

Again, I frown, setting down my mug. I didn’t run away. I just moved on.

But can you really move on if there is no closure, if you don’t understand what happened back then?

I shake my head. No. Rose’s situation and mine are not the same. Yes, we both lost someone, we were both left behind by someone abruptly and without a proper goodbye. But I didn’t have the luxury of closure. Clay was still alive, out there, doing God knows what God knows where. But I couldn’t reach him and so I couldn’t understand what happened or deal with it properly. I could only push it aside so that I could move forward. And that’s what I’ve done. That was the only way I could move on. I couldn’t live in the past forever, so I simply chose to live. And yes, the past has caught up with me but it has no power over me. Even though I don’t understand what happened, it doesn’t matter. I’ve put it all behind me and it can’t pull me back unless I let it. I have a choice.

Rose doesn’t. Her father is lost forever. She has to accept that and get closure and when she does, she has no option but to start walking forward, one step at a time. And this way, when she becomes happy again, this time, it will be real and it will last, not a frail, fake happiness like the last time.

Rose has to deal with the pain, allow it to consume her and then like a phoenix, be reborn from the ashes, stronger and better. That’s her only way to live.

I slap my forehead. Why didn’t I think of that before?

Because you’re not thinking like a professional or a psychologist. You were thinking as someone who cared for Rose.

Right. Once again, I let my emotions get the better of me. And Rose doesn’t need my emotions. Clay can give her that. Rose needs my expert opinion, my skills and if I don’t give her that, then I’m useless. I’ll be just like John, caring for her too much and wanting to protect her, but never being able to cure her.

I won’t be like that.

“So, this is where you were.”

I glance behind me, finding Clay stepping through the sliding doors.

“How is she?” he asks, sitting in the empty chair beside me.

“Same,” I tell him. “And by same, I mean same as she was when I first saw her, same as she was before we started on this trip.”

“It’s like déjà vu, then?” Clay shakes his head as he clasps his hands on the table. “Pity.”

“I think it’s good, though. I think we’re just where we should be – starting all over again, this time, the proper way.”

Clay gives me a puzzled look.

“I mean Rose is where she should be.”

Why the hell did I say we?

“Now, she can do things in proper order – grieve for her father, accept his death, move forward and then when she’s no longer in mourning, maybe she can deal with her phobia the same way – acknowledge it, face it, move forward. It’s how things should be.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

I nod. “It is.”

“Then I respect it. It makes sense, after all. No use crying over spilled milk. Better to have a clean slate, look forward and make the best of things. Better to look at what can be gained than what’s been lost.”

Why do I feel like he’s talking about something else?

I straighten my shoulders and grab my cup. “Yes, you’re right. Now, Rose can really start the healing process and I’m talking about true healing, not just putting on a bandage. She has the luxury of that, at least, because she’s still young and she has closure.”

Now, that must hurt.

Clay doesn’t wince, though, simply looking away, his gaze at a distance. “So, you’ll let her grieve?”

“Everyone needs to grieve.”

“You mean we’ll just leave her alone?”

“No. Adults need to be left alone. For children, feeling alone is the worst thing they could feel at a time like this and they mustn’t feel it. We must help Rose accept her father’s death, assure her that everything will be alright regardless of it.”

“And if she doesn’t believe it?”

“She will in time,” I tell him, taking another sip of coffee. “She has no other choice. If she doesn’t learn how to hope again, believe again, trust again, she’ll drown in the past. She won’t be able to live.”

Clay sits back, tapping his fingers on the table. “So, you’ll talk to her?”

I look at the paper bag beside him. “You bought the pony?”

“Yes.” He hands it to me. “It’s the figurine of a girl sleeping beside a pony. It reminded me of Rose straight away so I just grabbed it off the shelf. It’s made of marble, though, which as you know, is breakable so make sure she doesn’t throw it away.”

“She won’t,” I assure him, standing up.

Rose loves ponies. That hasn’t changed and maybe I can use that to break down the new walls she’s built around herself. I have to. If I can reach out to her and make her feel that she’s not alone, she should be fine.

---

“That little girl looks just like you, beautiful and strong,” I tell Rose as I watch her run her fingers over her new pony figurine, her back against a pillow on the bed.

When I first gave it to her, she didn’t look thrilled. She didn’t hug it, jump for joy or thank me like she did the past few times. She didn’t even smile. Still, at least, she hasn’t thrown it away, simply holding it, looking at it.

Good. She may not be talking to me but a person who can still like something, who can still cling to something, can’t be too far gone. She’s just like the girl she was when I first met her, not worse, and if I was able to get through to that girl, I can get through to her.

I move just a little bit closer to her. “Did you know that some of the world’s most famous buildings are made out of marble, too?”

No reaction. Not even a shake of the head.

“Like the Taj Mahal in India, for example,” I continue. “A king built it for his wife. He loved her so much that when she died, he had a grand tomb that looked like a palace built for her and even named it in her honor. That way, he would never forget her and neither would anyone else in the world.”

After that, I fall silent, waiting.

Come on, Rose. Talk to me.

When she still says nothing, I decide to give her a little nudge. “See, sometimes people just lose the people they love and there’s nothing they can do about it. They can, however, do something after it, like build a palace or sail away or simply talk to someone about it so they can feel better. And you can talk to me, Rose. You can tell me anything about what you think, what you feel. Don’t fight them. Share them with me and I promise we’ll sort it out together. After all, haven’t we been good friends these past few days?”

For a moment, she remains silent then she looks at me.

“So, should I build a palace for Daddy?”

Finally, a response.

I smile. “Doesn’t your Daddy already have a palace? The one back at the ranch?”

“That’s a house, not a palace,” Rose argues.

Ah, she’s arguing with me. Even better.

“But it looks like a palace since it’s so big and beautiful. Besides, your Daddy loved that place, didn’t he?”

She falls silent again.

“You know what?” I tell her. “You can build your Daddy the finest palace here.” I point to her chest. “In your heart.”

Rose gives me a confused look.

“Do you want to know how? You already have the bricks made of something even finer than marble. They’re made of memories, the memories you have of your Daddy – his smell, his laughter, his favorite clothes, his different facial expressions, his voice, everything he ever told you, everything you did together. Remember those and then you can build a palace for your Daddy to live in inside your heart and as long as you remember him, he will always be there.”

“But I thought he’s gone forever.”

“His body is gone forever. You’ll never see him again. But his memories will always remain here.” I touch her head then her chest. “And his love for you will always remain here. The people who love us don’t really leave us. They live on in our hearts.”

Rose places her hand over her heart. “Daddy’s here?”

I nod. “That’s right, sweetheart. He will always be there.”

She looks at me with creased eyebrows. “But where is his body?”

Ah, the questions.

“His body is under the ground in a grave,” I tell Rose truthfully. “When we get back to Wisconsin, we can go see it.”

“Why is it under the ground?”

I pause to come up with an explanation she can understand. “Everything that dies is buried under the ground so that they can become one with the earth and then they can make trees grow for animals to live in or plants that bear fruits for people to eat. Earth gives life and by dying, people can give life, too.”

“But sometimes I see dead insects and they’re not underground,” Rose says.

“Good observation,” I praise. “But they disappear, don’t they? They get blown away by the wind then they end up on the ground and the leaves bury them or they get eaten by other insects and then those insects end up underground when they die.”

“I see.” Rose touches her chin. “So, everything dies?”

“Yes.”

“Will I die, too?”

Again, I pause, her question the hardest yet.

I take a deep breath. “Yes, Rose, but Clay will do his best to make sure that doesn’t happen anytime soon.”

“What if Clay dies?”

“I don’t think that will happen soon, either. In fact, I think Clay will be around for a long, long time to come.” I take her hand. “You have to understand, Rose, that even though people leave, you will never be alone. There will always be others to take care of you, just like Clay will be taking care of you now that your father’s gone. You will always be safe and loved.”

“Will you take care of me if Clay dies?”

Okay. I haven’t really thought of that but I guess I can, especially since I’m the only other person who’s spent a lot of time with Rose apart from Clay since John died.

“If Clay wants me to.”

“I want you to,” Rose says.

“Then you can tell Clay.”

“I will.” She moves closer to me, sitting beside me. “But what if Clay doesn’t die? Does that mean you won’t take care of me? Are you going to leave me, too?”

The questions make a lump form in my throat. “I…”

“You’ll stay with me forever, right? Because you’re my friend?”

I swallow. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep and I can’t guarantee I’ll be around forever, maybe not even for another month. I can’t stay, especially not with Clay. As much as I want to watch her grow, I can’t get back together with Clay and if I can’t, then I can’t stay in his life or in theirs. Still, there’s no way I can turn her down when she’s looking at me like that, with her lower lip trembling and her eyes pleading.

How can I say I’m going to leave her when she thinks of me as her friend, when she needs a friend badly at this time? How can I hurt her now when she’s desperately trying to cling to something, someone, when she’s looking for something to look forward to beyond the pain?

I smile. “Of course. I’ll stick around as long as you need me and I’ll always be your friend.”

It’s not exactly the truth but right now, it’s what she needs to hear.

Slowly, the corners of her lips turn up into a smile.

Ah, the sun is finally peeking again after the storm. Thank goodness children are so resilient.

I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tight.

“Andrea?” she asks suddenly.

“Yes?” I pull away and look into her eyes.

She runs her fingers over her figurine again. “Can we talk…about Daddy?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” I run my hands through her hair. “But you know what? I think we should have this conversation with someone else, someone who knew your Daddy very well and loved him almost as much as you do.”