Love me, Rosalie

 

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Chapter 1

I put my feet up on the coffee table and lean back exhausted.  A women of my age shouldn't feel so tired I'm sure of it.  Okay so running around chasing three kids under the age of seven is a great excuse but honestly at twenty seven years of age surely I should have more energy than this.  I yawn and look at all the toys littering the floor.  Slowly I get down on my hands and knees and start pushing the blocks into one area of the room.  'Come here toy box' I say out loud willing the box to magically move towards me.  I smile at my own humour, sit back on my bum and start throwing the blocks in the box, pretty pleased that I only miss a couple of times.  "Mummy" I hear looking around at Izzy standing rubbing her eyes ready to start crying.  "Come here bubbie" I say to her softly stretching out my arms, but staying put on the ground so I'm eye level with her.   "Did you have a bad dream sweetie?  Come on...mummy will lay with you" I say struggling to get myself up let alone holding a five year old.  I push the last remaining blocks to the side so I don't tread on them tomorrow while I'm running around doing the hectic morning duties.  I carry her back to her bed, laying down, successfully consoling her whilst squished against the wall amongst too many stuffed animals.

I wake in the morning, my head awkwardly pushed up against the wall, my head laying on a particularly fluffy bear, the fluff tickling my nose. Izzy is still fast asleep, laying on my arm that has no longer any feeling.  I bend my head trying to straighten out the kink.  This is probably the reason why I'm so tired, I've fallen to sleep here for the third night in a row.  I don't really mind I think to myself as I move Izzy's hair back so I can see her beautiful face.  My bed just isn't the same now, not without him, and he's not coming back so it will never be the same again.  A tear moves down the side of my face.  I wipe it quickly when Izzy starts to stir, she can't see me sad.  I move off her bed when she starts to stretch, I'm a bit wobbly and a lot achy.  I hear Izzy's door squeaking slowly open, then suddenly Dylan runs in grabbing hold of my leg.  He looks up at me, his toothless grin melting my heart, his big blue eyes full of love that just makes my morning feel so much better.  "Morning mummy...I want fruit loops today please...good food tomorrow, bad food today okay mummy?"  He speaks perfect for a three year old, probably influenced by his siblings.  I lean down and pick him up so he is eye level, my back cracks, actually helping.  "Okay silly Dyllie, bad fruit loops today, yummy spinach for breakfast tomorrow."  He pulls my face towards him "your being silly mummy" he says then wiggles for me to put him down.  I watch him run up the hallway and disappear around the corner.  I can hear him instructing Brayden as to the bad breakfast for today, and the horrible one apparently tomorrow, making me smile.

When I've showered, feeling almost human again I go and join the three kids all munching on fruit loops, none of them acknowledging me, all eyes staring at the cartoons on t.v.  I wipe down the mess, unpack the dishwasher, close some drawers that are left open with my hip, while I chew on a piece of toast.  I make myself a cup of tea, letting it brew while I go and start a load of washing.  I grab the pre-made sandwiches out of the fridge, pretty happy that I did this last night, load up the kids lunch boxes, grab their backpacks, checking for any notes or left over food, put the boxes in, zipping them up ready for their school day.  Izzy comes out with the brush and a couple of pretty hair ties, climbing up on the stool for me.  While I'm doing her hair Brayden sits next to her, puts his hands together resting his arms on the breakfast bar very seriously.  "I'm thinking I might have a birthday party this year" he says so officially.  I stop designing Izzy's hair looking at him, not trying to look surprised.  I've offered him a party for the last three years without him ever wanting one.  "Sounds cool buddy, I'll supply the party, you supply the kids, it will be fun" is all I say to him, knowing too much fussing will put him off.  I watch him climb down and put his backpack on.  He turns to leave then turns back around coming over to give me a kiss.  I lean down to him, "love you" I say.  He smiles back at me, I know he loves me.

Izzy jumps off the stool, checking her hairstyle in the mirror, grabbing her backpack, pulling me down, kissing and also hugging me goodbye.  She gets the same bus as Dylan but they don't associate the minute they are out the door.  I go to the door, standing behind the fly screen door,  watching them until the bus pulls away.  I probably look like I'm an uptight nervous parent standing there watching them leave, it's been a hard couple of years letting go of worrying the minute they are out of my sight, but I'm getting there.  I turn looking around wondering where to start, Dylan has already covered the lounge room floor with blocks.  I step cautiously around the toys, rubbing Dylan's head as I walk past.  He gets lonely when the kids go to school, I know I should really think about going to a playgroup, but that means talking to other women, then one thing leads to another and I'm asked about their Dad, and I can't talk about it, or even think about it without breaking down.   "Dylan, how about you pack up some toys then we'll cook a cake for when the kids get home?"  Without watching him I can hear the blocks being hurled into their box, with the occasionally rest period when his favourite t.v. commercial is being played.  I smile, drinking my cold tea, refilling the dishwasher ready for the next mess.  I can hear the washing machine going off balance making a racket, so I go and shift the load crossing my fingers it will spin without another break down.  When I come back out Dylan is sitting on the bench top ready holding the mixing bowl and whisk.  I hurry around listening to Dylan prattle on about something whilst one ear is listening out for the clunk, clunk coming from the laundry.  Together we manage to get the cake in the oven, and the washing machine co-operated, I can't wait to go out into the fresh morning air this morning.  

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Chapter 2

I make Dylan switch off the t.v. and come out in to the sunshine with me while I hang out the washing.  I hold his hand as I balance the washing basket and him down the stairs.  I drop the basket to the ground and stand looking across the flat horizon.  A warm breeze blows the long grass that encloses the yard.  I automatically check the yard for any visiting creatures that have crawled out from the long grasses on all three sides of the yard.  Dylan runs over to the swing set, sitting swinging his legs back and forth ferociously trying to get momentum.  I look at him then look down at the washing, it can wait.  I walk over and pull the swing back above my head, making Dylan squeal with delight.  "Ready to fly high buddy" I say before I let go.  "Let go when I say three" he says.  "No, you count to ten for me" I say to him.  "Okay mummy...one, two, three, five, seven, eight, TEN!" he shouts.  I let go watching the swing fly up high above my head.  I stand pushing him high until my arm aches.  "I have to go hang out the washing, do you want to be peg boy?" I ask him as his swing slows down.  He doesn't answer me, he just climbs out of the swing, running over to the pegs, putting one on each finger.  He is counting them as he does it, making me smile.  I pick up the first wet item of clothing, taking it off his little fingers, he leans down to quickly replace it.  When we've finished hanging out the washing I go and pull a few weeds out of the vegie patch, another thing my little helper loves to do.  I stand up straightening my back realising we've been out here for a good hour.

Standing back up I can hear a fire engine siren in the distance.  I look around to trying to spot any smoke on the horizon.  I can only see the bluest of skies.  I take a deep breath in seeing if I can smell anything.  Suddenly my brain rushes with a thought.  "OH SHIT" I yell, "THE CAKE" I yell again, running towards the back door.  I run into the kitchen panicking.  Dark smoke is swirling all around the ceiling and the fire alarm is going off.  It has triggered this address to the fire station.  I don't think to open the oven instead I pick up a tea towel swinging it back and forth all around, trying to stop the siren.  It doesn't work.  I grab the broom that is leaning against the wall where I was going to sweep next job, lifting the handle up to the alarm, poking at it to try and stop the ear-piercing sound.  I bang at the siren so furiously, it falls apart and  drops to the ground in pieces.  But the noise has stopped, so I don't care about breaking it.  I'm able to gather my thoughts for a second.  I honestly didn't hear anything outside, which amazes me.  It was incredibly loud here in the house, but outside with Dylan babbling on, and us being all the way up the back corner of the yard I just didn't hear it.  I can hear the fire engine racing towards us.  My face is already red from swinging the tea towel around, now it's going to go redder from embarrassment.  How stupid of me, letting our cake burn.  Not only is my body tired but my brain cells also, apparently.  Dylan comes in looking around, two eggs in his hand.  While I've been in here saving the house, he's been collecting eggs.  I growl at him to go and sit on the lounge and not to move.  He goes and sits, looking rather upset with my sharp tone.  

I open the door letting the rest of the smoke escape "don't touch the oven Dylan" I say to him loudly from the kitchen.  I look over at his face and it nearly kills me.  He still has the eggs in his hand so proudly.  I walk around and take the eggs off him, placing them on the bench then pick him up in my arms.  "Sorry for yelling at you, silly mummy forgot the cake."  I head towards the front door, ready to tell the fireman it was a false alarm.  On my way I step on one rogue lego block, the corner sticking straight into that tender part of your foot, you know that spot.  I limp, half falling to the door, opening it at the same time as one of the fireman is ramming thru it, sort of getting half pushed and falling at the same time, he doesn't even look at me while I'm glaring at his back.  He takes two large steps in, smells the air, then wrinkles his nose at the burnt cake smell, taking two more large steps towards the kitchen.  He picks up the tea towel that I left, opens up the oven, removes the cake, makes sure I've turned the oven off, then turns towards both Dylan and I who are standing frozen in shock.  My hand is still on the open door, Dylan is clung to my side.  Another large fireman has followed him in, but I hadn't even seen him.  He turns and smiles at me then walks back outside.  "False alarm guys, pack this shit up, just another burnt cake disaster".  Now I'm really really embarrassed.  

"Mummy, who is that" Dylan says shyly resting his head on my shoulder and pointing to the large young man in our kitchen.  He hasn't had much to do with men, especially big large dominating one's.  I'm standing in just a large t-shirt, with a three year old clung to my hip.  He finally looks at us standing at the door.  I wrinkle my nose before I speak.  "Sorry" is all I manage.   The fireman who is still in the kitchen picks up the cake, grabs a knife and loosens the sides, then goes out the back door swinging the tin until the cake falls to the ground.  "Birds will eat that" he says as he returns to the kitchen.  He fills the tin with hot water, bends down reaching into the cupboard, squirting a bit of detergent into the tin, then leaving it in the sink soaking.  Then he find the ceiling fan switch, turning on the fan.  I haven't moved from the spot, my foot is killing me and I'm pretty sure you could see my arse if I turn just a little bit.  He turns, picking up the massacred fire alarm off the ground, walking over to us "you okay?" he says to me.  I swallow hard before I answer.  I mean it's been a while that I've spoken to another man, let alone a man that looks like him.  I don't know what it is with men in uniforms but for the first time in a long time my girlie bits are feeling a little tingly.  I squeeze my thighs together, trying to balance Dylan, on a sore foot without looking like a dick-head.  "I'm okay, thanks for that, and sorry about the false alarm...I didn't even hear the fire alarm going off, I was busy...outside...hanging out washing and stuff" I say looking down at the pieces in his hand and knowing I'm talking nervously.  He doesn't want to know what you were doing Rose I think to myself.   "Your cake is ruined, little man is going to be upset, you also need a new one of these" he says looking at Dylan who is still holding on to me like a koala.  "That's okay we'll make another one won't we buddy" I say leaning back trying to give us a little space, not trying not to make eye contact.  "I'll replace that next time I'm in town, just leave it on the bench" I say nodding my head over in that direction so he knows what I mean.   I know I have to acknowledge that there is a six foot tall gorgeous smelling man standing in front of me without mumbling another stupid word.  Only way to do this is to say something funny, laugh at myself, even though dragging this man all the way out here is probably not his idea of a joke.  "I'll try not to burn the place down next time, hopefully" I say to finally looking up at him smiling.  He smiles, his whole face lighting up, and my pink bits tingle some more.    

We stand awkwardly for a few seconds longer before we both hear the fire engines horn blow.  He walks back in to the kitchen, scrubbing the cake tin clean, tilting on the sink to drain, then making it back to me at the front door in about two big steps.  I move back a little bit more, I can feel the toy box rubbing up against my legs so I can't move back any more.  He stops before he leaves turning his face to the other side of my face, the one opposite where Dylan is clinging on to me "I'm off night duty in about an hour, would you like me to come around and help cook another cake?"  Okay blushing now, not the embarrassment blush but the cheeks heating up thinking about sinful things sort of blush, this I haven't done in like forever.  I nod my head in the 'no' gesture before I answer him, this time trying to act a little more seriously "your probably really tired with all the fires you've put out during the night, you'll need to get some sleep, but thank you for offering" I look down at his name tag "Travis" I say.  He doesn't leave but stays where he is, moving even closer to me if that's possible "I won't be getting any sleep after seeing you in that t-shirt this morning."  I gasp a little before he makes one last eye contact with me then pushes the screen open, walking back to the truck.  I don't move from the door, still holding Dylan, watching his broad arms lifting himself into the back to the truck then hearing a lot of jeering coming from the fire truck.  Oh god what I would do to have those arms wrap around me...Stop...think about something else Rosie.  "Look at the lovely big red fire engine Dylan, do you understand that those fireman are good guys, they came thinking the house was burning?  They save us from fires, don't be scared of them okay."  He puts his head on my shoulder again thinking.  "When can I have cake mummy?" making me smile.  I close the door when they've gone, putting Dylan down I sit on the lounge lifting my foot up seeing my foot is actually cut open.  I can see a little pool of blood on the floor where I had frozen on the spot.  I look down at the large t-shirt with a beer slogan on it, then put my hand to my hair realising I hadn't even brushed it after getting out of the shower.  I moan at the sight he must of seen.  Dylan suddenly appears with a band-aid with the wiggles on it.  I let him put it on my foot before I clean up the blood from the floor.  I spend the next hour panicking in case a certain fireman turns up.  But it never happens.         

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Chapter 3

Before I know it the kids are dashing into the house, straight into the kitchen ready to enjoy their afternoon feast.  Dylan has climbed on to the breakfast bar ready to show them what we cooked today.  The kids sit on a stool each before I cut them a piece of successfully cooked, not burnt cake.  "At recess today I saw a fire engine speeding down towards this way mum, I worried in case there was a fire.  My teacher stood with me looking for smoke, but we didn't see any, did you hear them?" Brayden asks me so concerned.  Before I could console him soft and gently Dylan speaks up loudly "Mum burnt the cake, it was smelly."  "What happened?" Izzy asks.  "I just forgot about the cake when I was pushing Dyl on the swing and hanging out the washing, that's all.  The alarm system detected smoke and sent the fire brigade out, everything was okay" I said reassuring all the kids but focusing on Brayden.  "The fireman wanted to cook another cake with me, but mum made him go to bed" Dylan says shovelling another mouthful of chocolate cake in his mouth.  I look at him, snickering to myself at how children see things.  "What happened?" Izzy says again in between mouthfuls of cake.  "He offered to come back and cook another cake for us, but he had been on night duty so I told him to go and get some sleep" I said confident that this doesn't sound suspicious.  "Then he told mum he liked her t-shirt" Dylan says.  Children are such sponges.  "Then what happened" Izzy says mouth absolutely full of cake she is spitting it out as she speaks.  "Nothing...he left...they left, it was a lovely big red fire engine wasn't it Dyl?" I said rubbing his head and changing the subject.  "That fire man was really nice" he says.  "He was nice, especially when he got rid of the evidence and cleaned the cake tin" I say.  "How long was he here?" Brayden asks seriously.  "Not long lovey, he just wanted to make sure we were alright" I answer him reassuring him that it was okay.  

Since the accident Brayden had become so serious and grown up.  It worry's me that he is missing out his childhood suddenly feeling like he has to look after us.  I can't remember ever making him feel responsible.  I did hear his grand-dad sternly say to him that he is the man of the house now and will need to look after us.  I tried to talk to Brayden about what my dad had said but obviously it didn't work.  I know I'll need to find him a hobby, which means I'll have to take him, which means I'll have to associate with other parents, which 'whamo' leads to the fifty questions that I try to avoid.  I lay in bed that night thinking about our life before I lost Stephen.  I turn my head and put my arm across to his side, once again like usual tears fall.  'I wish you didn't leave us, I wish you were here, I would give up everything just to have you back, just to see your face again' I speak out loud as I weep.  Stephen had been my one and only love.  For ten beautiful years we had each other.  I fell in love with him while I was still in high school, then we were married and I was pregnant by twenty.  People namely my parents said I was too young, it wouldn't last, he was too old for me.  I was only seventeen and he was twenty two when we met, I probably would hate it if Izzy fell in love that young, but I would support any decision she made and never make her feel bad about herself.  Besides, it would've lasted, it would of lasted forever if he hadn't been in that stupid car accident.  That awful fateful night, being a police officer, he had been in a high speed police pursuit, that in only a few seconds was called off, only three seconds earlier and their police car would've slowed down, turned around, come home, only three seconds earlier and the truck would of past them bye, both Stephen and his partner would be alive still.  In those three seconds our life changed forever.

I turn over crying into the pillow.  I can't let the kids hear me.  I want to yell, I want to scream, I have so much pent up inside of me but I can't let the kids down.  I have to be brave for them.  I hug the pillow to my face, saturating it with my tears and mystery.  Laying there sniffling, feeling sorry for myself I feel a small hand on my back, softly it starts rubbing up and down.  I turn hoping that maybe Stephen will be standing beside my bed, reaching out for me in some way.  I know in my mind it will never be but some nights I just feel so lonely, and then I truly want to believe in miracles.  I roll over, trying to avoid whichever kid it is seeing my ugly sodden face, I'm looking at the silhouette of a my brave big boy.  I push the blankets back instantly.  Brayden climbs into bed with me, allowing me to snuggle him to my chest.  He doesn't say anything to me, just lets me hold him, I squeeze him tight, I know this is his way.  "I love you" I say to his ear.  He grips my arm closer to his chest before we both fall to sleep.  The kids made me become a survivor.  I'm not sure if I could've or even would've gone on after the accident.  My dream life ended in that split second, and I had to become both mum and dad for these kids.  It drained me both physically and emotionally.  Lucky Stephen's life insurance enabled me to stay at home, one thing I'm most grateful for, but it doesn't change the fact that he isn't here to hold me, talk to me, just be here with us.  I squeeze Brayden closer to me, take a deep breathe.  I dedicated my life to grow these three kids, and that's what I'll do.  

I do have a good night sleep contrary to the sad start.  My arm is numb from being wrapped around Brayden all night but I'm sort of use to some part of my body not having any feeling these days.  My foot hurts where I injured it yesterday but other than that I feel okay today.  I hobble out to the kitchen and start the usual weekly routine.  The week goes by relatively quiet, the kids have fallen into an easy routine.  I watch them climb on to the school but thinking of how they are growing up too quickly, how they are little more independence each day, making me think that I don't want them to grow up some days, but other days so grateful that they are happy and doing things for themselves.  I remember Stephen and I both agreeing that we wanted at least four even five kids.  'These three will have to do now' I say to myself.  

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