Don't own!
I manage to get everyone out of my house before it gets even more crazy or late. Since Rose is settled in the bed, I just pull out the mattress on the couch for me and Edward. Since there's no lock (and I'm a too tired), we only sleep together in a literal sense, which makes me almost as satisfied as sleeping together in a metaphorical sense. Almost. Not quite. However, for tonight, cuddling is perfect. And, incredible, we even get up before noon. We even get up before Rose. So, while I have him pinned and private, I sit with him on the couch and ask, "So, is this going to be a regular thing? On the weekends?"
"I'm going to try," he says with a smile. "At least every other weekend. Being with you two just makes me realize what I've been missing."
"Okay, then you should be involved in finding a new apartment. I was thinking we could go looking today, if you'd be okay with it? I mean, I've looked into getting a bigger one in this building, but none are available right now."
"Sounds good by me." I lets out a little huff. "Would you answer a question for me?"
I snort, shaking my head, even though my stomach is falling. "Of course."
"Is Rose uncomfortable around me?" He looks hurt even asking it.
"What?"
"I mean, due to the nature of recent events…I just…I saw her face when your sister suggested that I…she looked scared. I don't want her to be scared of me."
I close my eyes. I lean against him, taking his hand into mine. "Ed, no. I—really don't think so. She's never said anything or given any sign of it. I mean, I can talk to her about it, if you'd like, but I don't think you have to worry about that."
"Can you…? I just don't want to overstep and upset her. She seemed fine yesterday, but she seems good at hiding emotions—she got that from you, I believe."
"I think about that too. She's been a little looser this weekend, but that's more because of feeling bad. She tries to keep me from getting freaked out. I admire her for it, but I just wish she'd calm down about it and actually stop trying to be an adult."
"She's independent, I'll give her that." He relaxes. "I'm so proud of her for surviving that."
"Me too."
We sit together. It's not but a few moments before Rose stumbles out, looking hopelessly sleepy. I smile at her. "Feeling better?"
"My head's cleared up, thanks." She collapses on the couch, her hand dangling off the edge.
"So…" I say, leaning forward and looking at her. "How would you like to go looking for a bigger apartment?"
She nods. "Can I have a room? I mean—I just don't like having to hog your bed."
"Of course. Though you don't hog it. You're more like a little cat, sitting at my feet."
"Meow," she says, smirking, looking straight at Edward. I start cackling and he just pouts.
It's an hour before we actually are able to get down to business. Of course, I've already done some homework—I found some open house (open apartment?) listings on the internet around here. The first few are duds—too big, too small, no working plumbing (seriously, what the hell?). Total crapfests. At the second place, Rose takes a disporportionaly long bathroom break and returns with nasty smelling breath. I wait until it's just us—Eddie goes out to look at the view—and I ask her, bluntly, "Honey, did you throw up?"
She winces and shrugs it off. "Breakfast didn't settle. I'm okay now. I didn't make a mess."
I don't like it—was it really sickness or was it induced?—but I accept it. For now. I'll leave her be until tonight.
There's more crappy apartments. And even more crappy apartments. And I'm starting to loose hope. But then we go to this one place—our last look—a few blocks away from where we're already at, so I know the area. It was only put on the market last week. It has the odd quirk that there's a bathroom with the second bedroom, not the master. Apparently, that's a turn-off for most people, but all I can see is Rose having her own space. It's not perfect—there's some ugly ass carpeting that's all throughout the apartment that I don't care for at all, but that can be fixed. I stand in the second bedroom—Rose's bedroom—with my little unit. It's on the inside of the building, so no windows. More security for me. "What do you think?" I ask.
"I like it. It's cozy," Rose says.
"And the kitchen is simpler than yours," Edward adds. The appliances are a bit older, so there's far less features.
"Okay. We'll take down the information and we'll discuss it when we get home, alright?"
They nod. I think it's time to get Rose back—her eyes are getting tired and she's getting sluggish. However, I have the feeling that we don't need to look for any more places. This is in my budget, especially if I can bargain them down, and I really like how it's set up. I just need to get the other two's okay.
We pick up dinner and take a taxi back home. I'm not going to make Rose hike it when she doesn't feel good. She just looks like she needs to watch a movie and then be tucked in. Poor thing. I just can't wait until she's back in full health, though I sometimes wonder if that'll ever happen. She's still skinny—far too skinny, and she said she couldn't keep breakfast down. However, we've got to take it one day at a time. We're having some little issues, but we're still going.
As soon as we get home, Rose walks to the shower like a zombie. I put in Frozen—she really loves that one—and leave it on the DVD menu until she gets out. I pull out our dinner with Edward. "Is she okay?" he asks, with his voice quiet yet urgent.
"She's probably just having issues—she said that she hasn't had to deal with that for awhile now, so I'm sure her body is just freaking out from the hormones and such," I rationalize. Even if I don't really believe it as much as I sound like I do.
"But, I mean, there was that headache and then she was sick and…"
"Sometimes that's just PMS. If she's still sick tomorrow, I'll take her to the doctor." Yes. And I might take her anyway, but Edward doesn't need to get worried.
He nods, takes our food, and sits down on the couch. I don't know if he liked my response, but, I mean, I'm sure it's nothing. She's just feeling under the weather. God, I hope so.
Rose comes out, hair dripping and donning her fuzzy pajamas. She refuses her dinner—she says she was still nauseous, so Edward and I quickly eat enough to keep us from hunger pains and put it up, since we don't want to make it worse with the smell. We all curl up to watch the movie. She falls asleep before the opening number is over.
Edward is utterly fascinated by cartoons. When this one is over, he helps me take Rose to the bedroom, tuck her in (miraculously, without waking her), and then asks for another one. We do Beauty and the Beast, since that one's my favorite. Though, after trying for five years to make a prince out of a beast, I've got to admit, I think I'm more fond of the Little Mermaid 'love at first sight' model. At least Ariel doesn't end up getting cheated on.
When the credits are running and my own eyelids are getting heavy, Eddie stands up, sighing. "The weekend's over…"
I know what this means. I take his hand. "Shortest weekend I've ever had," I say. I try to smile at him, but I just want to cry. "We didn't even talk about the apartment…"
"You and Rose should make the decision…I'm just going to go give her a kiss and say goodbye. I'll be right back." He slips back into the bedroom. I sit there, fighting back my tears. Damn, I'm going to see him next weekend. I need to stop overreacting.
He comes back. He pulls me up by my arms and kisses me—a real kiss, too. And then he gives me a peck on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too. Stay safe."
And then he leaves, closing the door behind him.
And I fall back onto the couch, sobbing. I grab the pillow, holding it when I really just want to hold him.
"Are you okay?"
I snap around. Rose is in the hallway, a little red-faced herself, and those sleepy eyes are staring at me. I wipe my cheeks with my sleeve. "Yes, sweetheart. Go back to bed. I'll be back there in a minute."
She doesn't listen to me. Instead, she steps over and hugs me around my neck. I pat her hand. "Rosie, really. I'm fine. Here, we'll…we'll both go back right now."
I flip off the TV and we both creep back. At this point, between the constant apartment searching and the crying, I'm exhausted as well. I quickly slip into my nightwear and we both tuck in.
"Momma?" she asks quietly.
"Yes, baby?"
"I had another fit today."
Damn. Though, I guess it could've been a lot worse. She could've been ill—as in needing more medicines ill. We can handle this. I pull her close. "Oh, sweetheart. Where?"
"It was the second place we looked at. I just went to the bathroom."
"Why didn't you tell me? I could've been in there with you."
"I was fine," she says sleepily. "I've had them before. I know what to do."
"But…I could've been there and—I don't know—make it easier? Make sure you didn't bust your head?"
"I…I've been able to deal with them for most of my life—I'm okay, Mom. I promise."
I hate this. I really hate this.
I snuggle my cheek into the top of her head. "Just…let me know next time, please? I need to know these kinds of things. I'm your mom."
"Even though I've been fine for three years? I can take care of myself. I promise, I can."
I let out a jagged breath. This is just… "Rosie, you shouldn't have to. That's my job. It's going to be my job forever, so don't worry about it."
"But—"
"You're my kid. My kid. I can take care of you—or at least I can try. You're going to be independent soon enough; please don't rush it."
She lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes. "It's just—it's hard to go from being so…just—I got used to it. It's tough to break that habit."
I twirl a curl around my finger, getting an idea, but dreading it at the same time. Though, Rose is being very blunt about her feelings with me; I can do it in return. "I—I kind of understand. My, uh—my biological mother—she was hard to live with. And, like you said, you get used to living a certain way, so I was just adapted to it. I knew what to do, when to do it…But, see, when I started living with the Tremaines, even though I knew it was different…old habits die hard."
She looks up, eyebrows slightly knitted together. "That's terrible…"
I scoff. "Eh. It could've been a lot worse. It wasn't anything major—I hoarded a bit of food, habitually sneaked out of the house even when I really didn't need to…I think it did more damage to Mom than it did me. Then May thought it was cool and started doing it too…Now that caused problems," I say with a laugh.
She smirks, but then it falls away. "How long did it take for you to break some of those? The habits, I mean."
I blow out a puff of air. "Ah…Some of them took a few weeks, some took…I couldn't unpack my emergency backpack for about a year…I still get really unsteady when I don't know where my emergency jar of nuts is at work—it's not a paralyzing fear or anything, but I do just feel better when I have that there. I probably need more therapy." I try to add that humor into it. It doesn't work.
"So I'm probably going to be like this for a long time."
"No," I quickly add. "Not necessarily. I mean, one thing that you have on your side is that, though it was a lot more intense and just more bad than what I had, it was over a shorter period of time and you experienced a somewhat normal life beforehand. You had something different to this absolutely survivalist lifestyle. I didn't until I was older, so most of my habits had been ingrained into my brain at a very early age. I didn't know anything different, but you did. I mean, you had to do a lot more self-care than I had realized, but you had a starting point. Even though your experience was a lot worse than mine…I think you actually have a better…what would be the word? Prognosis? No. But you get what I mean. I just have a feeling you'll be able to bounce back better than I did and won't end up as screwed up."
She snorts. "I wouldn't exactly think of you as screwed up."
"I'm a lot better than I was. I'm no where near as neurotic. But I think that's just my personality—I'm still like that, in some ways. But having a kid kind of forced me to chill out. Plus your dad helped a lot…"
"You two are like some musical couple or something," she says, sounding amused.
"Love can make people a bit silly. You'll find out one day."
"Hope so." She yawns. "I'm tired."
"No kidding."
"Good night. I love you," she says, as she flops over. It's not but a minute before I hear that soft snore of hers.
I'm not exactly sure how she does it, but I'm quite envious. If only sleeping was that easy for me. I have trouble tonight: I just miss Edward.
Reviews, please? They're really encouraging. :)
