The Rosewood Diary

by Teri Blake

  Ryla slowly nodded. “Two months ago might have been enough. Life hasn’t really been normal since my heart attack. The one that did so much damage that they can’t fix it. I have a pacemaker right now that’s pretty much keeping me alive. If that shuts off or shorts out…or if I have another heart attack…they tell me I probably won’t make it through even another small one.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us? You’ve been going through the scariest thing imaginable and you didn’t tell us, reach out…? Why?” Of all the questions in her mind, that was the strongest.

  “My whole life I’ve been taught not to upset the apple cart. If I have any issues, they aren’t as bad as others. No one ever taught me where that line was…when do my problems become important? Obviously, at some point I crossed the line, but I still don’t want to tell Mom and Dad. I didn’t even really want you here after my heart attack. Paxton forced me to keep pestering you.”

  That explained the sudden drop in texts. She hadn’t wanted to make them at all. “I’ll have to thank Paxton again. Do you have any idea how terrifying it was to hear from him what’s been going on? Mom and Dad will freak.”

  “But you won’t tell them because I’ve asked you not to. I’m not having them step in and try to change my directives. And don’t lecture me. I don’t need to hear, yet again, how I’ve handled something wrong in your eyes. Can’t you for once take a backseat and just listen and be here for me? Is that too much to ask?”

  Ryla was the youngest, and in most families, she would’ve been the spoiled one. Throughout her whole life, Quin had always seen their parents as treating both of them equally. If Quin got new clothes, so did Ryla. If Ryla got to go out to eat alone with Mom, Quin got to go the following week. Everything was fair, wasn’t it?

  “I don’t know what you mean, ‘take a backseat?’”

  “I mean, for once in your life, stop being the star and just be my sister.”

  There was nothing to say in rebuttal. She’d lived her life the way she was raised to live it. What would it take to put her sister first for a little while? “I’ll do my best.”

  Ryla closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “According to the world, that’s pretty amazing.” Quin closed herself off from her sister’s obvious pain for a moment. Asking her to both be a normal sister and mentioning her status was too much to deal with. Ryla had no idea what it was like to live Quin’s life.

  Chapter Four

  Quin sat up from a dead sleep to the sound of distant ambulance sirens. Cold sweat covered her skin. She tossed the covers off the bed and raced down the stairs. At some point, Ryla had moved back to the main floor of the house so she didn’t have to navigate the stairs with her cane, but that thought was a disorienting fog. As Quin hit the kitchen and skidded across the floor, she slammed into Paxton standing by the counter.

  He held her elbows and steadied her.

  “Where is she? Is she all right?” Her voice shook and she searched the small kitchen, blinking in the harsh overhead light.

  Before she could take off for Ryla’s room, Paxton gripped her shoulders, and a small calm stole over her. “She’s fine. I’ve got her set up with a tray in the living room. I’m getting her breakfast.” He indicated the eggs popping and sizzling in the pan.

  “Oh.” She felt immediately silly and stupid. “I heard…”

  “I know. We all went through that those first few days after her initial widow-maker, which, incidentally, is a horrible name considering women are just as likely to have them as men.”

  For some reason, Paxton’s matter-of-fact way of speaking calmed her even more. “So I can go in with her?” She stepped back and let him get back to his eggs. Ryla already thought she took all the attention, she didn’t need to be the cause of burned breakfast, too.

  “Sure. There are a few options for you if you want to grab breakfast on your way, or there’s coffee in the pot.” He motioned with his elbow to the small coffee maker on the counter.

  Goodness, she’d drink that much all on her own. “I’ll just grab a cup and go sit. I don’t usually eat much in the morning.”

  He playfully flicked the end of the spoon at her. “You should eat a healthy breakfast. Says the guy who doesn’t eat anything besides a slice of peanut butter toast before he races over here.” He laughed.

  The crinkles beside his eyes calmed the final nervousness coursing through her. “How do you stop jumping at the sound of every ambulance?” She dug through the cupboards until she found the cups. Someone had moved them after the last time she’d been there.

  “I realized I would be the one calling them if anything happened. If there were sirens, it wasn’t because of Ryla. Though, I do still cringe at every text, since that’s how Jane gets in touch with me to let me know how the night went.”

  Quin fumbled the coffee mug and set it down on the counter with shaky fingers. “I’d forgotten there was someone else in the house last night.” How had she slept with some stranger wandering around?

  “She stays in the background for the most part. Ryla likes her evenings quiet, so Jane only really helps with bathing and dressing at bedtime. She’s in Ryla’s room most of the time in a chair. That’s where Ryla wanted her.”

  She hadn’t gone near Ryla’s room. Ryla had told her where she slept, but Quin hadn’t wanted to see any medical devices. Just seeing Ryla in her weak state was enough. “Will she still need to be here now that I am?” Not that she wanted the nurse to go.

  “Unless you want to be awake all night, yes. We’re following Ryla’s directive at this point. She wants to be kept as comfortable this week as possible, but lucid. The other reason you shouldn’t worry about the ambulance is that she’s at the stage where we don’t really consult a doctor anymore. She’s decided this is it, and she just wants to be comfortable.”

  Quin’s chest rebelled and she couldn’t breathe. “You mean to tell me that if she has another attack…we don’t even call for an ambulance?”

  “No, I’m not saying that. If she requests it, absolutely. This is all about her and her choice. But if she isn’t coherent enough to tell us…no. That is her decision and because she is an adult of sound mind, you have to be okay with that.”

  She put down the coffee carafe before even pouring a drop into her cup. “Is this signed somewhere? I can’t believe a woman her age would just give up control to someone else.” But the fatigue on Ryla’s face the night before made her feel guilty for even fighting.

  “This choice was made weeks ago. I’m sorry. She doesn’t have a power of attorney because she didn’t need one at the time. You might be able to argue it, but do you really want to?”

  No, she didn’t. She didn’t want to take away the last choice of her sister, but the decision hurt to even think about. “I won’t fight it. But I will be there the moment anything goes wrong and I’ll try to convince her to stay with me.”

  He nodded and slid the perfectly done eggs onto a plate. “Need anything else?” he asked as he reached into the fridge for ketchup. Ryla, to Quin’s dismay, had always smothered her eggs in the red, sugary paste.

  “No, thank you.” She finally poured her cup of coffee then followed him into the living room.

  Ryla waited on the sofa with her feet propped up and strange tight socks on her feet. She still looked tired, but her dark hair was now up in a loose bun making it look thicker than when it was down around her shoulders.

  “Good morning.” Quin tried to sound cheerful.

  “Morning. I was thinking we could go sit on the beach today. Paxton says the chairs are all cleaned off and in perfect condition. What do you think of my sun hat?” She slowly reached behind her and pulled a giant straw sombrero on her head.

  Quin laughed as the hat seemed to gobble most of Ryla’s small head. “I don’t think the sun could find you if it tried.” She set her cup on the side table and curled back up in the chair she’d been in the night before.

  Ryla was already dressed for the day in a soft sundress. Near
her shoulder, where the v of her neckline started, an angry red scar began. Probably where she’d had her pacemaker put in.

  “I guess I slept in. You’re already ready for the day and I haven’t even brushed my hair yet.” She ran her fingers through the dark snarls.

  “You’ve got time. This is your vacation. Rest. Enjoy the beach and spending a week with me. I’d love it if you could stay longer.”

  Her words gave Quin hope. Maybe she would live longer. Maybe, if Quin were a good person, she could stay until Ryla’s heart gave up. But was she a good person? Could she do that as her sister’s last wish?

  “I’ll stay as long as I can.” She still had a life that she was required to live. No one else could do her job. Art didn’t create itself. Though she was feeling as far from inspired as possible just then. “Relaxing by the beach sounds lovely if that’s what you want to do. Do you want Paxton there too?” She fought to keep her eyes on Ryla so her sister wouldn’t see how much she wanted Paxton there. If she looked at him, she’d give herself away.

  “I think he’s close enough across the street. You’re there and can get him if anything goes wrong.”

  Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong. She sipped her coffee and chanted to herself, almost a prayer on her lips. “Sure. Do you have any books to read, like you used to?”

  Ryla had loved the beach, just sitting there listening to the waves and occasionally reading out loud to anyone who would listen. She had a beautiful reading voice. Her inflections and accents made even the most boring book interesting.

  “I don’t read out loud anymore. I don’t have enough voice left.”

  This dreaded heart condition had taken everything away. All the peace, all the enjoyment, everything about her sister that she’d loved and remembered. She hated it more and more by the moment. “Do you want me to bring one? I wouldn’t be as good as you, but I could try.”

  Ryla shook her head. “I’d like to keep that memory, please. I think we have enough catching up to do that we won’t need the distraction. Paxton, can you keep Duggy busy while we’re gone?”

  Paxton came in the room as if he hadn’t been more than a step away and leaned against the wall like he’d done at the airport. “Duggy is currently entertained with a graham cracker. You’ve got about a minute before it’s devoured.”

  “Oh, that’s not nearly enough time,” Ryla said then giggled.

  “I’m sure I can manage. Little guy has grown on me.” His eyes twinkled.

  Would she ever grow to like that rabbit? Maybe once she’d had a chance to see Ryla with him, then she’d know what to do. Their interactions had been something she’d always ignored in the past. The bunny was Ryla’s pet, not hers.

  Ryla finished her eggs and slowly wiped her mouth. “I would take your help getting across the street. My tank is still too heavy for me to carry with my cane.”

  Tank? Oxygen. It had to be. “I can carry it,” Quin offered. If Ryla could almost manage it with her cane, surely it wouldn’t be too heavy for her. Though she was no Miss Muscles.

  “If you’re going to be down there for a few hours, you’ll want the big tank on wheels. Your little tank only lasts for an hour and a half.” Paxton glanced at his watch. “The big one gives you a little over three.”

  A nurse would think of such things. She certainly wouldn’t have. Sunscreen, hat, blanket, water, that’s what she’d have remembered. “How big is this tank?”

  Paxton left and came back a moment later pulling a small cart with an oxygen tank, much larger than one for scuba divers, about three feet tall. “It’s not heavy. Ryla can pull it but I’d rather she focus on traffic than her tank.” He handed the handle to Quin.

  “You’re such a worrier,” Ryla scolded from under her sombrero.

  “That’s what they pay me for,” he joked right back. “Take care. I’ll check on you and bring out your other tank if you’re not back in by noon.”

  Quin glanced down at her PJs and laughed. “I need a couple minutes before we can go. I’m still not even dressed.”

  Ryla frowned as she craned her head back to get a good look at Quin. “Paxton will fix a snack and get me settled across the street. Come join me there as soon as you’re done. Don’t make me wait too long.”

  The sentence hung in the air like a threat. She’d already made Ryla wait too long. Quin rushed off to her bedroom and tossed on some clothes then threw her hair up in a messy, uncombed bun. If Ryla wanted quick, she’d get it.

  Paxton came back in just as Quin rushed downstairs. He gave her an appreciative glance. “Thanks for hurrying. She’ll feel like you’re listening.” He handed her an apple. “You need to eat. Your body will need more calories to process all this. Trust me.”

  She stared at the perfect red apple and felt a bit like Snow White. Why did everything seem like a trap now? “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  “She has a lot to say. Be patient with her and let her say her piece.”

  Quin shook her head slowly, then with more force. “If I do that, she’ll have no reason to stay. I need her to hold on until I can convince her to let me tell Mom and Dad. This just isn’t fair.”

  He rested his hand on her shoulder just as he’d done to Ryla the night before and she understood the calming power of that touch. “Sometimes, life just isn’t. But you’ve got to keep right on living.”

  Chapter Five

  Quin waited until there was no traffic to be seen before she made her way across to the beach. Ryla sat in the sun, but she didn’t seem relaxed. With all the tubes and tanks, relaxing had to be impossible. She’d already tossed the sombrero into the sand and tilted her head up, face shining.

  The beach towel she’d brought would cushion the seat a little once she folded it. She tossed it down, then got cozy in the chair next to Ryla. “I’d forgotten how nice the breeze off the water was.” Part of her wanted to jump back to her feet and rush right out into the waves. The part of her that still wanted to be a child and enjoy the wonder of the water. The part of her that wanted to get away from this talk with her sister.

  “It’s nice but smells a little like dead fish today.” Ryla wrinkled her nose. “Paxton didn’t see anything, but my nose tells me there’s something nearby.”

  Quin gave a quick glance around their chairs but saw nothing. “I’m sorry…” She turned to face Ryla and lost her train of thought as Ryla adjusted the nose piece that provided oxygen, then she slipped it over her head.

  “Paxton will never know, and I need a break from that miserable thing.”

  “But…” What if she got too low? What if she passed out? Wouldn’t Paxton blame Quin? “Don’t you think you should keep it on?”

  Ryla eyed her then snorted. “No. I don’t. Have you ever stood in the wind too long? So long that your nose dries out and your skin feels brittle? That’s what that thing does to the inside of my nose. I deserve a break. Frankly, I deserve to be done with the whole thing.” She closed her eyes again and relaxed her face as if she were sunbathing and this was like any other vacation day. “I was always told to never tell you anything. Never let on that something might be wrong because it might affect your creativity. So, I’m telling you now and I’m sorry if it hurts you, but this has been a long time coming.”

  Her creativity was the last thing on Quin’s mind. And maybe her parents had worried about that when she was developing and had kept her from the pain. She wished she’d been given the choice.

  “Do you remember when we were little and we used to build cities in the sand down here?” Quin sat on the edge of her seat, feeling like she should watch Ryla’s every breath.

  “I do. I also remember the next-door neighbor boy, who lived where Paxton lives now, racing across the street and running through our city.”

  “And yelling the whole time, like he was some giant movie monster.” She laughed and watched the waves for a moment.

  “Mom always said we should play with him because she wasn’t sure anyone else ever did.” R
yla coughed slightly.

  Quin leaped forward for the bag Paxton packed and fished out a water bottle, then handed it to her. “Here, for the dry throat.” She felt so inadequate and inept.

  “I’m not going to break. People cough all the time.” She twisted the top and took a sip. “But thanks.”

  Quin sat back in the chair but wasn’t sure what to do or how to be. Ryla had accused her of acting in a way she hadn’t thought about and now she wasn’t sure what to talk about. What could she say that wouldn’t sound self-serving? She hadn’t even realized that was how she’d sounded in the first place.

  “I remember him having a few friends in school. We weren’t his only playmates. I think Mom just didn’t want to hear our complaints about the way he played anymore. How often did she say, ‘learn to get along?’” She’d heard that often from Mom when it came to Ryla. Her heart and feelings were easily crushed, and the bickering of sisters frustrated Mom to the brink.

  “Probably not nearly as often as I did,” Ryla muttered.

  Why did everything have to be a competition? Couldn’t they just reminisce? “I remember one time, I’d pulled all the blankets off your bed because you had the pink soft blanket and it was my favorite. I told you it was in the wash. You got so mad at me.” Quin laughed, remembering how she’d tried to hide the huge bundle until she could make her bed again.

  “That blanket was a gift and you kept stealing it. I had to check your bed all the time. Finally, Mom just bought me a different one. It wasn’t the same though.”

  Was that what happened? Quin couldn’t remember. Once she hadn’t had to take it, she’d forgotten all about it. “I wonder what happened to it?”

  “You brought it to the beach to use as a blanket for a picnic with some friends, left it out there, and it was gone the next day. Probably with the tide,” Ryla’s tone belied her hurt, though it was evident in her face.

  Had she really done that? Those years were a blur of school, friends, minor incidents, distant boyfriends, and home. “I honestly don’t remember.”