Chapter 7

seven

Rose – Eighteen Years Old

I gently smile at the elderly man sitting in the booth as I grab his empty plate from in front of him, and turn toward the white counter with a red strip above it.

Natalie, another server and my friend, gives me a smile and takes the plate, while passing me another plate full of hash brown grits, and I turn, heading to table number five, trying to ignore the aches I feel.

My back hurts, my boobs are sore as hell, and my ankles are swollen, but I still smile, knowing it’ll give me the tips I need.

I’ve been at Katie’s Diner for six hours, not getting a break yet, with three hours still to go. After I finish here, I have two hours of online classes to attend. Then tomorrow, I have a five-hour shift, logging paperwork onto the computer system for Mr. Jarold at Jarold’s Family Law in town, before continuing more schoolwork.

I’m tired—drained really, but I keep pushing through.

I have to….

I’m a year into my online schooling, and I have plenty of experience within the field behind me, thanks to Mr. Jarold taking on a troubled teen. I can’t stop now, even if my body is slowly shutting down.

I give the overweight perve who’s trying to get a look down my dress a tight smile and drop his plate off, and head back to the counter.

My plans for the future have changed dramatically. Instead of going into marine biology, which is what I originally wanted, hoping to progress to training dolphins one day, I’ve changed my degree to business.

With that degree, I have a better chance of getting a job that pays well, and besides, I haven’t got six years to give to get my degree. I need a decent job, and I need one fast.

Getting my associate’s degree will get me a job as an assistant, and I can work my way up within a business management and accounting setting while, hopefully, completing my Bachelor's.

It’s not my dream job working with mammals and learning their behaviors, but it's something that will bring in the money, and keep the small two-bedroom apartment I’ve been renting for five months now over our heads.

It’s not just me that I have to think about now; I need to think about my son and what he needs….

“Congratulations, Rose, it’s a boy,” The nurse says excitedly as I breathe heavily, dropping my sweaty head back on the pillows, sobs wracking my body as a baby screams.

I’m tired, so tired, and I’m alone…. Twenty-nine hours in labor with no one holding my hand, encouraging me.

I look up as the nurse places my son on my chest, ensuring my gown is open for skin-on-skin contact, and I look down, only to sob some more.

His eyes are dark blue like Noah’s, but his thin hair is dark red like mine….

His screams quiet down as he stares at me, and I whisper, “Welcome to the world, Diego Nicholas Scott….”

I blink as a woman thanks me when I put down a mushroom omelet, and I give her a smile before heading to table eight. I clean up their dirties, wipe the table, and grab the $5 tip, placing it in my white apron.

I gave in that day, the day my son was born.

I was emotional and alone, scared, no terrified actually, and I sent a picture of Diego to my dad and Noah.

My dad never messaged me back, and Noah’s didn’t deliver.

It was then I knew changing my degree was the best option for us.

I take the dirty dishes to the window. Frank, the large chef, gives me a nod, his bald head shining under the lights. I turn, heading back out on the floor but grabbing the coffee pot on the way to do refills, silently counting down the hours until I can clock off.

I started working at Katie’s Diner two days after I stopped in a small town in Fremont.

I had no idea what I was going to do, but I needed gas, saw the “Hiring” sign in her window just off the highway, and decided to walk in. I was honest about how I ended up in Grave’s Hill, and she hired me, and then directed me to the motel a few miles down the road.

They allowed me to stay for free after I gave them Katie’s name, coming up with a solution; I cleaned for them every day.

On top of working full-time at the diner and cleaning the motel daily, I was trying to figure out what degree would be best with the scholarship I was offered.

Now, after working my butt off despite being pregnant, I managed to get us a small apartment. I sleep on a mattress in one room, all my clothes hanging in the tiny closet, while all my wages and savings go to Diego.

His room includes a crib, a dark blue dresser, a changing table, and toys. He has everything he needs, and that’s all that matters to me.

“And now for the news…. After returning from his fifth tour, Alejandro Lopez has officially become the CEO of Lopez Tech, taking over from his father, Rafael Lopez.

Alejandro and his wife were seen on the red carpet for a charity event where they donated one million to people experiencing homelessness. He married his long-term high school girlfriend last year in a lavish wedding, and commented that everyone he loved was in attendance to celebrate their day….”

I zone out, ignoring the diner’s radio, and continue refilling coffees.

Everyone he loved was in attendance, huh?

I didn’t even know they were engaged, let alone married, until three months ago when I heard Cal died in active duty.

His parents thought I had a right to know, and told me about the funeral. They let slip that Alejandro married Vanessa, and I wasn’t even invited.

My brother disowned me a week after I left Kingstonville after his girlfriend slapped me, and he allowed it….

“Hey, sis,” Al rasps when I walk into the cafe off the freeway, halfway between Fremont and Kingstonville.

I shouldn’t be here. The only way I could get here was by riding the bike, and I don’t feel comfortable doing so, especially with me pregnant.

I swallow hard and fidget with Noah’s hoodie, and walk over to where he and Vanessa are sitting.

She doesn’t look at me while my brother eyes me.

“What did you need to speak to me about in person, Al?” I ask warily.

Van scoffs and turns my way with such hatred my heart breaks.

“What do we need to speak to you about seriously? You’re a cheating whore!” she snaps, and I raise a brow.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel, Vanessa…. Last time I checked, my brother asked to see me, and I took time out of my job to meet up with him, not you, so if you hate me that much, then maybe you can wait outside!” I snap back, fed up with feeling like the bad guy.

I never left Noah, I never touched anyone else. He was my only, yet he believed his sister's lies.

Tamera sent me the photo he saw, and it was fricking innocent. It was the guy I bought the motorcycle from, emotional because a teenager gave him $200 more so his daughter could get surgery. If Noah had loved me as much as he had said over the years, he would have confronted me and not run off like a coward.

Alejandro growls, “Don’t talk to my girl that way, Rose. You’re the lying whore right now; you don’t have a leg to stand on!”

My eyes widen, and I take a small step back, hurt building. Al looks down, ashamed, but it's too late; he’s already opened his mouth.

I knew coming here was a mistake. Shaking my head, I turn and walk back out of the dingy café. I hear the door open behind me only seconds later and turn around, thinking it’s Al. I'm ready to give him a piece of my mind, but my cheek stings and tears burn my eyes.

I quickly put my hand over my right cheek and look at Vanessa in shock while she looks at me in disgust.

She just hit me, and my brother is standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re a disgrace, and you are no longer welcome near me or my family, and if your brother has any sense, he’ll no longer contact you either, because if he does, then I’ll leave him….”

I look at Al, but he shrugs. “What Van wants, she gets. I came here to hear your side of things, but how you just spoke to her shows your guilt. As far as I’m concerned, you died along with mom.”

My tears fall, and with all the hurt I’m feeling, I croak, “You’re going to regret this. Both of you will. When you realize your mistakes, you’ll think back to this moment, and you’ll understand why I’ll never forgive you, and why I’ll never allow you in my life.” I look at completely at Al and whisper, “Thanks, big brother ….”

He flinches, his eyes sad, but I ignore him and walk away, never looking back….

And I hadn't heard from him since, until two months ago, and even then, he only contacted me after finding out I was invited to Cal’s funeral. He told me if I show up, he’ll have me physically thrown out. He said Noah would be there, and I wasn’t welcome.

He said that he and his wife came first, even though Cal was like a brother to me, a protector, and I know he’d be turning in his grave right now.

I still haven't visited him, but I know I will when money is better. Even though I feel guilty for not being there, I refused to create drama, which is what I told his parents.

Julie, his mom, messaged, stating she bought the biggest bouquet and said they were from me, and a screw you to Al and Van for doing this to me.

I grew up with Cal, too. I rode his back when I was four, and stayed in his house when I was having nightmares at the tender age of six and he was the only one who could get rid of them for me.

He was my family, too, and they stopped me from saying bye.

I give a young mom a small smile as I pass her little girl a piece of paper and some crayons, then I head back to the counter to grab the next lot of plates, but then I hear the radio, and I freeze.

“And now playing, for the first time at number one, a song that was only released last week, the Delinquents ‘Rose’s Thorn’….”

Tears build, and I will them away as Noah’s voice comes over the speakers.

“We had a plan to travel the world together,

To build our life and start a family,

You were all I wanted, but you played me,

You broke us and all for what, a little bit of fun,”

The melody gets quicker, and a few tears fall.

“You were my rose, the brightness in my life, but now you’re my thorn, shredding my heart to pieces.

But I’ll keep moving on; I’ll make something of myself without you, even if it hurts.

What happened, my Petal? Where did you go? Why did you do this….”

Peter quickly changes the radio channel, and some customers complain, but he ignores them and makes eye contact with me.

His brown eyes show concern, but I shrug, wiping away my tears.

I’ve heard the song and played it on repeat since it came out last week. It’s full of pain and heartbreak, which is ironic because he’s the one who left me, not the other way around.

I gave him all of me, and he threw what we had away.

Shaking my head, I go to the counter, grabbing the cloth and spray. Peter quickly grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze before letting go.

I give him a small smile before turning away.

He knows all about Noah and our history. He’s a good friend who cursed Noah out before refusing to allow his music to play in the diner.

For the first year, it was all the songs I knew already, which I thought was hard, knowing some were about us like “My Rose,” but when “Rose’s Thorn” was released, Peter was the one who held me as I cried, which wasn’t fair on him because I know he has a thing for me. He told me when I’m ready to date, he wants the first phone call, and yeah, he’s good-looking guy with his brown eyes and dark blonde hair, his swimmer’s body every girl dreams over, but he’s not Noah, and I hate that I still feel this way, especially after all the photos in the tabloids of him and other women all cozying up, Barnett and Cameron in the background grinning.

Two weeks ago, he had his arm over a girl’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear while she laughed, and last week, there was one of him at a club with a cigarette in his hand, and his arm around Piper’s waist, her licking his neck, all while he was grinning.

I know I need to move on, but right now, I need to focus on work, school, and Diego…

Screw Noah, screw my dad and brother and Vanessa; the only person I need in my life right now is my son, and maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll be strong enough to date again, to let someone in, but that day is not today, and it won’t be tomorrow.

I groan as I climb the five flights of stairs to my apartment, but before going into mine, I knock on Mrs. Cannon's door across from mine. She answers within a few seconds with a big smile on her tanned, wrinkled face.

The woman is in her seventies and is amazing.

“You look tired, my darling, why don’t you let him stay the night?” is the first thing she says, and I smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t pumped in two hours, and it’ll just be easier for him to latch on,” I reply, and she sighs, shaking her head.

Chuckling, I hand her the paper bag, her payment for babysitting when I work at the diner, and she grins. She takes it to her kitchen, mumbling, "Chicken dumpling soup, my favorite,” before grabbing Diego.

I smile when his head turns my way, and he gives me a gummy grin.

He’s the spitting image of Noah, despite having my freckles and dark red hair. His bone structure and eyes are all Noah's, and no one could deny paternity.

With a squeal, he kicks his legs, making me chuckle, and I take him.

He’s just under four months old, born two weeks before his due date, weighing only 6lbs 4oz, and he’s perfect.

I kiss his chubby cheeks, and thank Mrs. Cannon before turning to my door.

She’s been a big help. I only took three weeks off from work after I gave birth, Katie offered a small amount of maternity leave, but I knew I couldn’t afford to stay off work for too long, and Mrs. Cannon has been my go-to babysitter.

I offered her money, but she refused. Knowing I get food for free at Katie’s, she said that’s all the payment she needs. While I’m at Jerold’s Family Law, they have an on-site nursery, which means I can nurse him whenever I need to, so it’s perfect.

As soon as I’m in my small apartment, which I have yet to make homey, only moving in a month before I gave birth, I sigh. It has a small black couch that came with the place, and, thankfully, a washer dryer.

It’s all we need for now, while he’s this young. I’m just hoping to move somewhere with a yard before he turns five.

I quickly nurse Diego before bathing him, and settling him down. It’s only when he’s asleep that I shower ,before dressing in Noah’s black button-down shirt. Then, I take a seat on the couch with my laptop and get my schoolwork done.

I don’t allow myself to think of the past, my family, or Noah. I focus on my work, knowing that, after I’ve done this, I’ll cry myself to sleep like I always do before Diego wakes for his 1 AM feeding.