Colors Of Love: Gen. 1.15

“Let’s have a seat,” Mother said.

I followed suit and waited for her explanation, fully expecting her to dance around the topic much like she’d done my whole life. Dad walked in after putting Iris down.

“Mother?” I said, urging her to come out with it.

“What’s going on?” Dad asked.

She turned to him. “Dove wants to know about Rosa.”

“Oh.”

Oh. What did Oh mean? And why were they starting to have a conversation about me like I wasn’t even in the room. Another lingering part of my history growing up in their house. I took a breath and held my tongue. Even with my years of independence, I somehow still fell back into the ‘good daughter’ trap.

Mother finally turned to me and uttered one work. “Yes.”

“Yes? Yes what?” Tons of questions had already begun swirling in my head.

Mother folded her hands in her lap and cast a glance at my father who gave her the tiniest of nods.

“Yes, she was your grandmother. Technically.”

One single word tacked on might as well have been the shutting of steel doors to any real answer. Always about image and playing the role of a politician’s wife first, mother like third or fourth behind all her ‘charity’ work.

The disappointment settled in my stomach like a boulder. Somehow I’d thought time would have changed things. “I don’t need to know more. She was my grandmother and she loved me.”

***

The weeks following Rosa’s death were hard. The girls still asked for her and I missed having her to talk to daily. The house just didn’t feel as alive with her gone. The girls and I continued to share a room because although moving into her room made sense, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

To make matters worse, my parents had been not so subtly trying to get me to return home and ‘pickup my old life’ meaning attach myself for life to a man I had no desire to be with. And conveniently they danced around the topic of how their mixed berry granddaughters would play into that.

The bright spot in all of this came in the form of the policeman that showed up the day I called 911. Officer Syrah Blush. He showed up a week or so after her death to check up on me.

After that he would show up after his shift and on weekends. His presence filled the void left by Rosa. We had a budding friendship. He was great with the girls.

And having him around helped. Being a mother of twins was exhausting at times, the extra set of hands served at as a life saver. But I was starting to feel like I may be monopolizing his time. There was no denying he was a good looking guy. One that should have been out dating.

“Syrah, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and the girls over the past month,” I said after he’d gotten Iris down for the night. “But, I’m sure you have better ways to spend a Saturday night than with a single mom and her twins.”

He gave me a warm, sincere smile. “What are you talking about? What guy wouldn’t want to spend his Saturday night with two adorable girls and their beautiful mom.”

I blushed at his compliment. “That’s kind of you to say…”

“It’s true.” He took my hand in his and held eye contact which served to deepen the blush in my cheeks.

An assault of butterflies attacked my stomach. Words and looks of longing hadn’t been something I’d experienced since Tyrian. An almost forgotten pang of sadness hit out of the blue. It’s not that I hadn’t thought of Tyrian over the years, I was reminded of him every day, but the long forgotten hopes and dreams that had been attached to him had filtered away.

“But, if I’m over staying my welcome…”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just didn’t want you to be missing out on more…exciting ways to spend your time.”

He gave me another reassuring grin that set loose a second wave of giddiness. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Update 16