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  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Flynn

  “Let me get this right. You are going to ask Grandma Rose to move in with us?” Jacob’s mouth is hanging open, waiting for me to respond.

  “Not exactly, but I thought she should come stay with us until she’s back on her feet, at least. I don’t like the idea of her being at her place alone. For now, anyway.” Studying his face, I’m checking for some kind of signal that my brother is happy with the idea of having Rose stay with us. At the minute, his expression is blank and unreadable. “Jay, you do understand that she isn’t our grandmother, right?”

  “Duh! Yeah, I’m not a child, Flynn. I just never figured that you’d ask her to move in here.” The grin on his face would rival that of the Cheshire Cat. “Does she know?”

  Shaking my head and chuckling at his enthusiasm, I throw his coat to him. “Come on, you can tell her when we pick her up.” My hope is that Rose won’t put up too much of a fight about staying with us. She’s very independent, and I know she may be too proud to admit she needs some extra support. The doctor agreed that she shouldn’t go home to an empty house. They even talked about setting up a place for her at a local residential home, just until she is on her feet again. My response was ‘No way.’ Simple as that, it didn’t take any consideration. Rose has taken care of Jacob and me for so long, it’s the least we can do in return. Besides, she would hate been in a home with a whole bunch of strangers. She deserves better, and that’s what I intend to give her. The best I can, right now.

  All the way to the hospital, Jacob has a huge grin plastered across his face. He keeps asking me the same question over and over again. “Sure you’re okay with her moving in? I mean, I could stay with her for a few days instead if you’d prefer.”

  We’ve been over the same thing for the full thirty-minute bus journey, and my response has stayed the same. “You’re not moving out. You stay with me, always. And yes, I’m sure about Rose staying with us.”

  As I expected, Rose put up a good fight at the hospital, insisting she was more than capable of taking good care of herself, in her own home. She didn’t need to disrupt my or my brother’s lives any more than she already had.

  “Look, Rose, the way I see it is this: I owe you for all the help you’ve given us since Mum died. We wouldn’t be standing here together now if it weren’t for you. Don’t think I don’t know that because of you, I still have Jay with me. We both know that he would be in some foster home right now if you hadn’t helped me turn my life around.” Moving around the bed to sit beside the older woman, I take her hand in mine and look her straight in the eye. I need to play my ace card if I want win this argument. “I’ve already told Jay you’re coming home with us. If you want to tell him you don’t want to, then that’s fine, but I’m not going to be the one to disappoint him yet again. God knows I’ve done enough of that already. He’s put flowers in your room at our place too.”

  Rose is staring at me with smiling eyes that hold more memories than I could ever wish for. The kindness that lies behind them is awe-inspiring. More than anything else right now, I want to make more happy memories for her. Each wrinkle around her face is evidence of the life she’s lived. I’d lay money on her having experienced life to the max, and you can see it in her quite clearly. She’s never been a wallflower.

  “You’re a good man, Flynn. A good, good man. Okay, I’ll come stay for a little while, but that’s all. A few weeks and I’ll be good as new. Just you wait and see!” Her frail, small hand pats mine as she speaks. “Now, Flynn, go get that nurse so I can get my medication and leave with my two boys. Jacob, pass my things from that cupboard and stand outside the curtain, dear. I don’t want you scarred for life, seeing me get dressed!” With that, Rose is out of bed and ushering us to the other side of the curtain. Something tells me she’s not about to let this heart scare define her.

  Two hours later, Rose is tucked up in my mother’s old room. She made us stop by her house first to collect some of her belongings to bring with her—mainly clothes and toiletries, but she has brought a picture of Peter, her husband, with her too. He now sits proudly on the bedside table my mother used. It’s kind of hard to see someone in Mum’s room, but it’ll get easier with time, hopefully. I thought Jacob would find it hard, seeing Rose in here, but he seems to be coping with it better than I am.

  When I walked in a moment ago with a cup of tea for Rose, all I saw was Mum lying in the bed, dying slowly. Rose knew exactly what was going through my mind. She had to have been able to see it all over my face. “Flynn, is that for me?” she asked quietly, bringing me straight back to the here and now. The soft, knowing smile she gave me was almost my undoing.

  “Yeah, sorry. If you’re settled and all, well…I think I’ll go get something organised for dinner. You must be starving.” Excusing myself from the room and closing the door behind me, I disappeared across the hall and into my own room. As the door closed behind me, I slid my back all the way down it, until I sat on the floor with my head in my hands and cried. Great big ugly, silent tears. I don’t think I’ve shed a tear since the day she died. Staying strong for my brother was the main priority. Now though, I need to let go. Maybe not grieving properly when she died has been a big part of my problem.

  I never went to the therapy sessions with Jacob. Instead, I sat outside the room, waiting for my brother to come back out. Pete organised them when our mum was first diagnosed as terminally ill. The idea was that they would help prepare Jacob for the inevitable, then afterwards, it was his support system. He made a few friends during his sessions, some of which he keeps in contact with. Unfortunately, my downward spiral into petty crime meant that some of the other kids’ parents were more than a little reluctant to let their offspring spend time with my brother. Pete had tried a little intervention, organising meet-ups at different venues, but most of that fizzled out. He has one kid who still comes over. I think his family is more screwed up than I am though, and that’s saying something. They usually hang out in Jay’s room, playing on the less-than-legit games console I acquired for him last Christmas. I’d lied to Pete, saying that some relative had sent it for the both of us. I know he knows the truth, but he graciously didn’t question it. In fact, he produced a few games that he’d purchased out of some funding he had access to for the underprivileged. Now, didn’t that just make me feel a whole lot better? My brother, one of the less fortunate kids you get taught about at school.

  As I look around the house, everything in it reminds me of my past, of the mess I made of my and my brother’s lives. The place is a mess, crap strewn everywhere. My mother would be so proud. Pushing myself up from the floor, I take a deep, steadying breath. It’s time I sorted out this hellhole, along with my life.

  “Jay!” I yell out along the hallway. His head pops out of the door to what will be Rose’s room for the foreseeable future.

  “What’s up?”

  “Tidy your room, it’s a dump. Then you can help me downstairs. Rose needs to rest.”

  He looks dumbfounded by my request. It is the first time I have ever asked him to tidy up though, so I’m not surprised.

  “I’m off to buy some cleaning stuff. I want to be able to see the carpet in your room when I get back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Flynn

  Rose has been living with us now for over a month. She only stayed in bed resting for three days. I came home from Bluebell Hill the fourth day, and she’d cooked up a storm in our newly cleaned kitchen. The table had been laid, and there was homemade bread and salad sitting on the table waiting for me. “There’s a lasagne in the microwave, just needs warming up,” she’d called out from her position on the couch, where she and Jacob sat glued to some super hero movie.

  The transition has been easier than I’d expected. We’ve become used to living together, moving around each other with ease now. Rose hasn’t mentioned leaving, and to be honest, I’m not sure I even want her to now. The house seems more like a home for the f
irst time since losing Mum. It is a relief to know that someone is home for Jacob when he gets home from school every day. The home-cooked meals are just an added bonus.

  “You know, Flynn, there are lots of half-full cans of paint in my garage. If you want to, I could help you tidy the house up a little. A lick of paint on the walls would make a real difference.” Rose speaks as we sit eating a slice of cake she’s just taken out of the oven.

  She is right. The cleaning had made a difference, but it does need redecorating too. “You’re not doing any painting. But yeah, you right, if you don’t mind donating the paint, I’m pretty sure I can’t do too much damage with a roller.”

  We’re no sooner stuffing the last mouthful of cake down than she has her coat on, keys in hand. “Come on, then, no time like the present.”

  When Jacob gets back from football, I am almost finished painting his room. It isn’t the best job I’ve ever seen done, but at least he seems to like it. Rose even fishes out a pair of her old curtains. She washes and irons them, ready to put in his room too. After a quick lesson on how the hooks attached to the track, I am sent up the ladder to add the final touch to my brother’s newly refurbished room.

  “Whatcha think, Jay?” I ask from the top of the ladder, curtains hung like a pro.

  “It’s cool! I like it, thanks. Are you doing yours too?”

  “Downstairs is next, according to the master decorator! Then, if there’s enough paint left, I might do mine. You wanna help paint?”

  The glee in his eyes doesn’t need interpreting into words. Rose chuckles at him as he scrambles to dump his kit and change into old clothes. “There’s an old coverall in that bag, Jacob. Pop that on.”

  As my brother and I tackle the front room, Rose gets to work washing the curtains she insisted I take down before we started painting.

  “This feels good, Flynn. It feels right. Mum would like this, wouldn’t she? We’re helping Rose out and getting on with life. You’re even staying out of trouble, which is a miracle!”

  Looking across at my brother, I see his damp eyes shining, and it nearly breaks me. “She would be proud of you, Jay. I’m sure she would.”

  “She’ll be bursting with pride for both of you, looking down on you from wherever she is now. You are both a credit to her. She’d forgive you, Flynn. You’re her little boy.” Rose hands me a cold drink and yet more cake. “She wouldn’t have expected you to get through these last few years without a glitch or two. You’re only human. What you’ve had to deal with has been hard. It would have broken most people, but for you to have to go through it at the age you were when she passed…well, that’s something else. I’m proud of both my boys.”

  With the pretence of wiping the imaginary paint smudge from my face, I swipe my arm across my eyes to remove the moisture that threatens to spill down my face. Not many things get to me, but talk of my mother does it every time. I miss her constantly. She’s the first and last thing that goes through my mind every single day.

  “You missed a bit.” Rose points to the corner of the room near the ceiling. I know she’s trying to break the sombre mood that’s now engulfing us all, because it’s not possible that someone with my growing expertise in decorating could have missed a single spot.

  “Yeah, there too.” Jacob points across the room, laughing as he speaks.

  “Really? You think?” Dipping the edging brush in the pot, I flick it in Jacob’s direction, covering his face in magnolia paint. Jacob squeals and runs to hide behind Rose.

  “Don’t think you’re safe there. She has to move sometime!” I’m stalking him now as Rose has him protectively hidden behind her back. She’s edging away from me as I move closer, taking my brother with her. What I don’t expect is for her to stealthily grab a brush from the pot of paint and skilfully swipe it straight down my face when I’m least expecting it.

  “Run, Jacob!” She laughs out as I stand there stunned. She’s a feisty woman, I’ll give her that. “Now, are we done for today? Dinner’s almost ready, then you can re-hang these curtains before it’s dark out.”

  In that moment, I know it’s right for her to be here with us. She is the glue to our little dysfunctional family. The person who keeps Jacob with me and helps me to stay focused. “Have you thought about staying with us? I mean, permanently. Like, not going home, ever.” I question.

  Her gaze drops to the floor. She looks uncertain of what to say, as though whatever comes out of her mouth will offend either Jacob or me.

  “I know Jay likes you being here, I like you being here. I just thought that if you were happy, it would make sense to stay with us. It’s up to you. Think about it for a while. I know it’s not an easy decision to make.” I don’t know how Jacob will cope if she decides it’s time for her to leave. I don’t want him putting pressure on her, so I haven’t talked to him about our situation becoming permanent. It would only confuse him. Besides, it needs to be Rose’s decision, not one she feels pushed into.

  “I’ve thought of nothing else, Flynn. These last few weeks, well, let’s just say it’s been wonderful not being alone. I’m not getting any younger. Being alone is getting harder and harder, but I worry how Jacob will cope. I’m an old woman. I won’t be around forever, and that little boy has been through enough heartache. Not that I plan on departing this earth anytime soon, you understand!”

  The glint in her eye is back. She looks the healthiest I’ve ever seen her. Her recent heart scare is long since forgotten, and she has a newfound spring in her step since her pacemaker was fitted.

  “The way you’re going, you’ll outlive us all! Seriously, think about it. It’s a genuine offer.” Somehow, I know we’ll never have the conversation, she’ll just stay.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Flynn

  It’s been a long day at the rehab unit. Frank’s kept me busy tidying the grounds up. It’s back-breaking work, but at least I feel like I’m paying the price for my crime. That’s what I’m here for, after all. I’ve even managed to persuade Frank to come help me finish off decorating the hallway at the weekend. He didn’t take much persuading when I told him Rose had offered to cook a meal in return. She’s upped the ante to wallpaper, which is way beyond my remit just now.

  Frank, on the other hand, is positively looking forward to it. “It’s all in the prep, Flynn, all in the prep.” Well, I’ve been prepping the hallway all week, so it’s ready for his mad decorating skills at the weekend.

  Checking my watch for the thousandth time, Frank gives me the heads up, giving me permission to clock off from work and go visit Harper. I looked in on her earlier, but she was sleeping. I can’t even begin to describe the disappointment I felt when I realised she wasn’t awake. The weekend is always hard to get through. I miss her face. She’s making great improvements now, and I want to see just how far she can push herself. Josh told me she has to want to get better, that I can’t make her do anything if she doesn’t want to. I just want her to get better, to be able to live her life to the fullest. She needs to get back her ambition and purpose in life, but for selfish reasons, I just want her well and out of this unit. Then maybe, well, who knows what will happen, but just maybe she might want to spend a little time with me.

  “Hey, beautiful, you’re awake. The snoring earlier was echoing down the halls. The staff wanted to have you removed for the sake of their ears, but I managed to convince them to leave you be.” I love to tease her, and I think she likes it too.

  The returning smile she gives me is incredible. Nobody has ever looked at me the way that Harper does. It gives me a strange burning sensation right in the middle of my chest, causing warmth to spread to the tips of my fingers and toes. Harper truly is breathtaking, and the best thing about her is that she has no idea of the affect she has on me.

  “Hi.” Just that one tiny word, and my heart melts a little more each time she speaks. I’m turning into such a girl, I know, but I really don’t care as long as she carries on talking to me and letting me spend time w
ith her.

  “Have you had a good day? Did your therapist visit today? I’ve been in the gardens all day, so I’m not going to sit on the bed.” Lifting my T-shirt up to my nose, I can smell how grubby I am. There’s no way I’m inflicting my stink on her. “Yeah, you definitely want to be staying downwind of that smell!” I chuckle before sitting in the chair beside my girl.

  Whoa, he just flashed his perfectly toned stomach in my direction, and then he goes and sits in the chair? Is he for real? I don’t care how bad he thinks he smells. I want him sitting next to me, to be able to feel his body heat and his firm arm wrapped around me. I know I’m pouting and acting like a child, but seriously, I don’t care. If I have to sulk until he gets my drift, then that isn’t beneath me. I haven’t seen him for two days. If he doesn’t get his ass on my bed within the next thirty seconds, then I may just test out my vocal chords and scream at him.

  The door to Harper’s room swings open and in strolls a mature, very well-dressed man, closely followed by a young woman who looks like she should be starting a shift at Hooters. My eyes are instantly drawn to the barely there top that’s trying it’s hardest to contain what can only be described as the world’s largest breasts. I don’t think I have ever seen any so large or so in your face before. They seem to be defying gravity all on their own too. From what I can see, there is no bra in sight. Not that I’m looking that closely, but they definitely would command any man’s attention.

  “Pops!” Harper almost squeals, and I instantly feel like I should leave.

  “Oh, baby girl! Just look at you! I didn’t believe it when Seb told me, but you certainly are making progress. That’s just amazing!” The man I now know to be Harper’s dad is pulling my girl into a firm embrace. To see the emotional connection between father and daughter is truly moving. There are definite tears on his cheeks when he eventually relinquishes his grip on Harper.

  His attention turns to me. “You must be Flynn. I’ve heard good things about you from Harper’s doctor.” His hand is thrust sharply in my direction.