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She gave my arm a friendly slap and rolled her eyes at me.
“Shut up about it. I said I’ll skip those parts. I’m sure they’re great. I just don’t want to read it about my daughter. She’s eighteen now, it’s up to her how kinky she wants to be, just so long as you’re not a sicko who wants to fuck her over, that’s none of my business.”
Well, what a turnaround.
I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know the chapters before they appear.”
As it turns out, they were a long time coming, and Beverly took the pages slowly, commenting throughout, her reading interspersed with chatter and cups of coffee, until finally, we were laughing and joking. Comfortable, in spite of the circumstances. The hours sped by easily. So easily I lost track of the time.
My heart leapt up into my throat when I heard the front door opening. Rosie called out ahey, I’m homein a joyous tone and I heard her dump her bag in the hallway before she came bouncing into the room with a smile on her face.
Oh my Lord, how she stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Beverly at the dining table.
“Mum?!” Her tears sprang instantly, her sobs taking her chest. “Mum? Did you come here… to see me… are you ok? Please say you’re ok.”
Beverly was up and on her feet in a flash, letting out ashhhbefore she took her daughter in her arms and held her tight, rocking her like she was her little girl. A treasure. She sobbed too as she kissed her head.
“I missed you so much,” she said.
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” her mum said, and Rosie nodded.
“Me too.”
Beverly pulled away at that, and brushed the tears from Rosie’s cheeks, as I loved to do, smiling at her daughter like the angel she truly was.
“You don’t need to be sorry.” She looked over at me, and Rosie followed her gaze. “I’m glad you ran upstairs that night, love, and I’m glad you found him. The hero upstairs.”
Rosie choked on her tears. “Really? Yeah, well, so am I. I’m really, really glad I found the hero upstairs. I could never have found someone any better.”
“Steady on,” I laughed. “I’m not exactly a superhero.”
“Yes, you are,” Rosie said, smiling though tears. “You’remysuperhero.”
And Beverly – her mother – smiled along with her.
I’m sure my cheeks must have been burning bright as I smiled over at them, with the optimism of acceptance like a bright sun in the darkness of my shame. I had to choke back tears of my own, blustering awkwardly.
“How about you two stay here to catch up?” I said. “You must have a lot to talk about. I’ll get some fresh air, and maybe some dinner for later.”
“That sounds amazing. Mum will love your steak,” Rosie said, and that sealed it. I grabbed my jacket and hugged my angel on my way through, giving anotherthank youto her mother.
I sighed in crazy relief when I closed the front door behind me, still struggling to believe the pendulum of life could swing so extremely from one direction to another. Faith was a glorious thing – one I hadn’t been all that blessed with for a long, long time – but chances are always there to be taken. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of bravery.
And an awful lot of honesty.
I knew where the post box was at the bottom of block two, with its crusty red paint that needed some attention, but still. It was in use.
I closed my eyes, lingering as I rested the bundle of letters on the slot. Could I do it? Dare I risk it?
Faith.
Faith and honesty.
Yes. I could.
With that, I dropped the letters into the post box, and walked on by.
