Page 62 of Roots


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“I need you to tell me what all of these files are about, because I love the way your mind works.”

I laugh, grab another chair and sit down next to him as I start to tell him all about my stories.

I’m sitting on the couch with Dean, as he’s picking out a movie for us to watch. He’s adamant to watch an action movie and I’m judging which one it’ll be based on how hot I find the main characters. He doesn’t approve of this method. But hey, if I have to watch things explode and listen to some pew-pew-pewing, I want something nice to look at too. The conundrum is, that the hotter the actor is to me, the less Dean is interested in it. I don’t really mind just sitting with him and picking out a movie, it’s an activity all in itself.

My phone rings. I expect it to be one of my parents, looking for an update or wanting to give me an update on what they’re doing. They will be leaving for Spain soon, where they’ll eat all the tapas and drink all the sangria. When I take my phone out of my pocket, it’s a number I don’t recognize. A landline, with the area code of Kinseltown. My thumb hovers above the screen before I finally answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a deep male voice answers. “Is this Morgan Pike?”

“This is she.”

“I’m Jeffrey O’Donnal from the Kinseltown police department. I’m calling you to inform you that a judge has changed the emergency detention of Miss Celia Mansfield to a longer stay at a mental institution. She will be held there for at least six months, before a judge will re-evaluate her mental health and if the stay should be extended. I thought you would like to be brought up to speed.”

Wow. That is a huge relief. I’m so happy we won’t have to worry about her for a while, but also happy for her that she’ll be getting the right help.

“Thank you for telling me, officer O’Donnal.”

“Have a nice evening ma’am.”

“You too.”

We hang up the phone and I see Dean staring at me with expectant eyes. “She’s been committed to a mental hospital for at least the next six months,” I tell him. His shoulders relax and he releases a long breath.

“That’s awesome, babe.”

I jump up from the couch and start looking for some shoes.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to tell O; I think he’d want to hear this.”

He nods.

“Shoes are in the hallway,” he says, because of course he knows better where I left my shit than I do myself. “You go tell O, I’ll call the guys.”

I love that he understands I want to see O and accepts it without putting up a fight. I give him a quick peck as I rush to the hallway and slide into some shoes.

Trotting over the lawn and seeing the burned grass somehow gives me a slightly less bad feeling than it had before. Maybe it’s because I’m now starting to believe this is finally over.

I find O sitting on his porch, on a wooden rocking chair with a beer in his hand. He seems to be stargazing or some shit like that, and he doesn’t notice me coming over.

“Hey,” I say, finally getting his attention. His hazel eyes find mine, but they’re lacking their usual warmth. “I’ve heard you wanted to be alone today, but I’ve got news.”

He beckons me over and I climb up the porch steps. I plant my ass on the railing of the porch, and I look at him.

“Kinseltown police just called to say that Celia’s emergency detention got changed into a six month stay in a mental institute. They’ll re-evaluate after those six months what will happen next.”

He loses a little bit of the darkness that has possessed him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” is all he has to say about that. His eyes seem to soften a little though and he sits up in his chair.

“That’s what I thought as well.”

There’s a silence between us, as he stares up at the sky. He seems to be stargazing again.

“I missed you today,” I say softly.

He inhales deeply and then tears his gaze from the sky and focuses back on me again. “I needed to be alone for a while.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. But I still missed you.”

He once again falls silent.

“Maybe I can come over tomorrow?” I ask him.

He stands up, gives me a kiss on my cheek and turns around. “Sure Mor, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t even look back at me before he walks into his house.

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