Chapter 11
Poor Rochelle.
She glanced up the stairs almost constantly to listen to the boys, but we both knew she didn't need to. She couldn't sit still; she paced the tile floor of the kitchen so fast I thought her toe-talons were going to carve ruts. "Have you sat down at all since you got home?" I finally broke the silence, but she hardly seemed to notice. There were people in the main room, the boys upstairs and Rochelle had no place to go of her own. I rose from my chair and pulled her close, stopping her pacing. Hesitantly, she turned and confided, "Granite fell asleep in my bedroom last night."
I rose a brow, "I thought you were worried that he might move on with someone else?"
She shrugged. "I was. He was tired and wandered in..." Her cheeks flushed. My eyes widened. I almost felt obliged to remind her that her actual boyfriend was bedridden. She ran her fingers through her teal-streaked bubblegum pink locks and focused her eyes on me. "Nothing changed."
"Rochelle."
"Granite loves me unconditionally," she whispered, "Making him wait is so unfair. But this morning...I felt him next to me and I woke to him, and he held me...I don't understand how I can love them both so much."
The heart was a very stupid and traitorous thing. I suppose everyone loved two people at the same time at some point in their life. It must've been a celestial rite of passage, and like all of them, it seemed doomed to work out either decently or horribly. I squeezed her shoulder, even though it didn't feel like she felt it at all. "Just try to keep in mind that he is just a boy. He doesn't even know how old he is, he was born in that enclosure-"
"He was born in a freakshow," Rochelle corrected me. It didn't make anyone's case any better. "And exactly, for all you know he could be older than Garrot and I." She must not have realized she was reaffirming my point. I rubbed her arm. Her eyes fell and she hugged her arms across her chest. "We talked about it the other night when Granite was away. He said he does not want me to hesitate to go to him when I feel like I am in need of someone. The way Garrot talks, Catrine...it's like he's already dead."
I wrapped my arms around her before she could become inconsolable. "He probably feels that way," I murmured. "Disabilities, especially on the decline of health, they feel like lead sails to a paper anchor." I hoped she knew I understood that much. I hoped she knew her tears made my stomach sink and panic settle in the back of my throat. For being stone, Rochelle was very fragile, even more fragile than Manny seemed to think I was. There was a part of me that knew how deeply she and Garrot had loved each other for so long, the same part that was terrified she wouldn't last once he had passed. She squeezed me, reminding me that she was made of stone, and I tried to steel my faith the way my boyfriend had the ability to. I made a mental note to ask Manny's opinion when we had left; for a boy people had found to be hardly more than a bully, he was rather accurate with his conclusions on people. Rochelle, the innocent, the naieve, she feared everything. She feared love, she feared heartbreak, she had tried to break her own rules only to find herself further ensnared by them. So she had relinquished to being the Rochelle I had always known as the gloom had lapsed over her and her life. The boys guffawed upstairs. She released me to wander toward the window. It was beginning to rain, the passing shower hardly darkening the sky, and yet it seemed the mild gray still had enough force to cascade sound over the shingles above us. I reached out and massaged her arms, "Rochelle..."
"I need you to come shopping with me," she murmured and wiped her eyes. "Things are piling up. We need shelves...bookcases. Paint. I want to change things, I want to make them better."
Work could be cleansing, but it wouldn't heal her. She looked at me desperately, willing me to understand. I wound a lock of hair around my finger, "Why did you cut it?"
"Because I'm tired," she murmured. The ends that dipped against her shoulders curled at the edges with more life than she seemed to have in her entire body now that she had gone still. I forced a smile, "I can make coffee-"
She sunk into the chair I had occupied and placed her head back against the windowpane. "It's a very deep tired, ami. I'm tired of pain." I nodded. "Frankly, I'm tired of living." Her eyes closed, mine widened again. She drew her knees up and propped her feet at the edge of the chair. As she rubbed her palms over her eyes, she murmured, "I'll take that coffee."
I nodded and crossed her tiny kitchen to the counter. Her father's dark roast sat in the door, pre-bagged. I put in a filter and a few scoops and filled the water to the very top before turning it on to roast. It didn't take long to attract someone's attention.
Granite came bounding down the stairs barefoot and took a cup out of the cabinet and set it beside the one I set out for Rochelle. He glanced to me and rose his brows innocently. I waved him off upstairs, "I don't suppose you three want anything else?"
"Food?" he asked, continuing the charade of innocence. I nudged him up the stairs and shrugged, "Make it yourself."
He ducked around the stairwell to stick his tongue out at me before running away. I heard her emit a short laugh, something like a cross between a scoff, a sigh and a sob. While the coffee brewed, I made the three of them ham and bacon sandwiches. Pretend as I like that Rochelle was stable enough to remain intact, her words managed to make me cease everything I was doing.
"Will you give up on me?"
I snapped around and stared at her in dismay. She looked bored, tired, her knees drawn all the way up to her chest and her arms folded across them. Her mouth, from which the horrid question was uttered, tucked behind her forearm while her eyes drooped in the after-effect of emotional exhaustion. I wanted to scream at her. Of course not, you overdramatic fool. You are my best friend and flawed as you may be, you will emerge alright. Garrot is seeing to that and Granite is more than capable of withholding his boyish idiocy long enough to take care of you. Look at Manny. I have blind faith in these boys since Salem seems to breed a strange kind lacking natural male stupidity. I would've liked to use those words, but they were stuck in my throat along with my breath. I stared at her in dismay. She nodded as if she understood, and I crossed the room to wrap her tightly in my grip.
"Never, Rochelle," I breathed into her hair. "You will be alright."
"No," she whispered, "I won't be. The longer Garrot suffers, the more it's going to pain me. I keep thinking...I keep clinging to this stupid hope that he may last. Simply be paralyzed and in pain, and how deeply happy I would be to see him live... It's so selfish, Catrine. But I still cannot bring myself to want him to die, even if it would end his pain."
"No one wants Garrot to die," I murmured as I caressed her hair. "Not even Granite. You know he would've rather won you another way."
She and I both knew he wouldn't have. If he had given his life for her, perhaps she would've felt obliged to him. Garrot would've been mildly grateful and allowed her to entertain the idea, but would've kept her from fully mourning. I knew that, though I also knew she didn't. There was no if for her, only what was. Rochelle didn't understand that sometimes the largest difficulties were fated. They were life changing. They were necessary.
"Do you remember when I moved in?" I murmured. The coffee pot was steaming, so I clicked the power button on the maker and poured their coffee in their respective cups. Rochelle's eyes flickered upward, but she didn't speak. Waiting for my point, I suppose. I found the sugar and the heavy cream and sweetened hers. "I died, Rochelle. It took that to bring Manny from his shell. Maybe it will take a death to make the two of you see how deeply you depend upon each other."
She rolled her eyes and rested her head on the table. I set her cup beside her and finished making the sandwiches. While each cooked individually, I let the crackle-pop of bacon grease fill our silence. Finally, Rochelle lifted her head and she murmured, "What if we don't? What if Garrot is the only thing keeping us together?"
"And once you become attainable he will give up," I finished for her. She nodded. I rolled my eyes. "Rochelle, I am going to be honest. I thought you had sex with him this morning until you told me otherwise."
Her eyes flicked to the main room as if telling me to watch my volume. I put my hands on my hips. "He had the chance. If all he wanted was a chase, a thrill, he could have it at any given moment. It's not like you've put up much of a fight in the first place. That boy, make no mistake, adores you."
Heavier footsteps approached. She glanced at the stairs and I watched her, waiting for her to address my words. Manny ducked under the doorway and crossed the room to me. I tugged him away from the counter by his sleeve and he bent to kiss my cheek. "Almost done?" I nodded. "Cool. I'm starving."
The timer went off. I picked up the bacon with timid fingertips and tossed a few slices on each sandwich. Manny was practically salivating, but before I passed him the food, I smiled innocently. "Manny-"
"Don't you dare," Rochelle said over me. He rose a brow. I smiled sweetly, promising in the look we traded to tell him later, and I kissed him very lightly on the nose. "I love you."
He grinned and tugged me in, pressing a firm kiss to my forehead. I giggled at his enthusiasm. "I love ya too kitten," he murmured to me. Sandwiches in hand, he returned to the others and I shot Rochelle a look. She rolled her eyes, "Just because you can cook doesn't make you any different than me."
I smirked, "It wasn't the cooking I was implying."
She went pink and shot me an even more murderous look. I simply shrugged in understanding. "Keep an eye on him, Rochelle. Boys know nothing better than how to get themselves in trouble."
