PROLOGUE
Rose and I had been together for several months. They had been months of highly charged
sexuality interspersed with a quiet and mundane daily life. The days were largely filled
with work, meals, evenings and bed. Then, as if by magic, Rose would conjure up or be
swept into the sexual whirlwind that always seemed to swirl about her, drawing me
inevitably along to never ending awe and appreciation. After a weekend of amazing sexual
experiences capped off with a major dose of introspection and maturation, my life seemed
to have arrived at another level, well above its modest beginnings. It was just after this
critical juncture that I returned home from work to find my Rose in tears, crushed by a
telephone call from a distant stranger.
"Please sweetheart! Tell me. What`s wrong?" I pleaded with her to open up to
me.
She pushed me away and walked to the sink. She stood with her back to me, pulled a paper
towel from the roll and wiped her face and eyes. She took out a glass from the cabinet and
filled it with water. I waited patiently while she took a long drink then set the half
full glass on the counter
Rose turned to face me with her eyes cast downward, then slowly looked up until our eyes
met. It was shocking to me! Rose`s eyes had captivated me from the first moment I saw her.
Those beautiful, deep, green eyes that could turn me into gelatin were red and swollen.
"I had a call at work today."
It was a relief just to hear her speak. She seemed to be gaining some control, but I
could see she was fighting and her strength was nearly gone.
"It was from a social worker in Indiana. They have Larry in the prison ward of a
hospital in Gary, Indiana..." Her voice trailed off as she again broke down in
tears.
I moved to her and took her in my arms. She clung to me and sobbed more deeply as I
quietly held her and smoothed her hair. Her pain was so deep and I felt helpless. All I
could do was hold her and gently kiss her cheek. Eventually she straightened and pulled
away to get another towel.
Suddenly she slammed her fist onto the counter and screamed, "That sonofabitch! He
couldn`t be dead!" Again and again she slammed down her fist as the tears overtook
her. Through the tears she screamed, "I thought he was dead! I was getting over him!
That miserable (slam!) lousy (slam!) sonofabitch! (slam!) Her knees failed and I rushed to
catch her as she collapsed. She clung to me as we sat crumpled on the floor, her
hysterical tears soaking my neck and shirt.
There was nothing I could say that would help. I wanted to take away her pain and make it
better, but that was beyond me to do. All I could do was hold her shaking body and listen
to her sobs. When the anger and tears began to relent, I whispered to her.
"Come on, sweetie, we have to get up off this floor. Come sit on the couch with me
and we`ll talk." I took her arms and gently yet firmly lifted her from the cold vinyl
floor. She clung to me briefly as I started to walk us toward the couch.
Near the couch she suddenly stiffened and pulled away from me.
"I better go to the bathroom. I feel like such a mess."
"You`re beautiful and you always look wonderful," I whispered to her, bringing
a tentative smile to her lips. She kissed my cheek and turned to the bathroom.
As soon as she was out of sight I.made a call. Among the list of numbers near the
telephone was Merrilee`s. My fingers shook as I dialed. Merrilee`s voice was a welcomed
sound.
"Hi Merrilee, this is Randy."
"Hello baby! Need some lovin`?"
"Merrilee, it`s Rose!" I`m sure she could hear the panic in my voice.
"Could you come down? She needs you."
Without a question she responded, "I`ll be right there!" I hung up and it
seemed just seconds before Merrilee burst through the door.
"Where is she? What happened?"
Before I could answer Rose appeared from the hallway. Merrilee rushed to her and quickly
wrapped her arms about her as Rose broke down again. Merrilee slowly guided Rose to the
couch as she again struggled against the tears. I felt empty and useless. I was grateful
for Merrilee.
I sat in a chair opposite the couch as Rose slowly told bits of the story between bursts
of tears. Apparently Larry had landed in Indiana where he sold the trailer and everything
else of value. He had developed a drug habit and basically lived on the streets. About six
weeks ago he had attempted the armed robbery of a drug supplier and was severely beaten by
two men. The police found him near death in an alley and took him to the hospital where
he`d been ever since. His fingerprints connected him to several burglaries in the area.
When he came out of the coma, they charged him and moved him into the prison ward until he
was well enough to stand trial. His body had gone through drug withdrawal while he was in
a coma, but for the most part, his memory was gone. Recently his memory had begun to
return in bits and flashes, and in one such flash he called for Rose. In his babblings,
Larry talked about Rose, Point Martin, and the Riverside Hotel. The social worker began to
put things together and managed to find the hotel. When she called the hotel, she had
asked if a "Rose" worked there.
Rose`s devastation was complete. It seemed tall the hurt and pain, the uncertainty and
emptiness, the loneliness had instantly come crushing down upon my beautiful Rose. I
wanted to go to her and hold her until I could take the pain away; but at the same time I
wanted to sweep her away somewhere to hide; to pretend this hadn`t happened. I wanted to
believe our tender loving relationship had not been disrupted. I wanted our "little
island of peace" in a world of chaos to be as it was. I guess deep down, I had hoped
Larry was dead, or at least would never again bother us. I had, just days before, realized
I deeply and completely loved this woman although I knew I had no right to do so.
So I sat feeling useless and empty watching Merrilee comforting Rose while my mind rushed
to consider as many future scenarios as it could shape. What would happen now? Would she
rush off to him? Would she forsake him as he had done to her? Was our bond forever broken?
Have I lost the most precious thing in my life? The thought of losing her was more
frightening than death, for without her, there was no more life for me.
I stared at the two women. My stomach churned and fear ran through me like a chilling ice
storm as tears formed in my eyes. I sat silently and still, as through my mind passed
again and again one brief phrase. Rose, I love you ... Rose I love you ... Rose, I love
you...
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