The Sisters’ Secrets: Rose. Katlyn Duncan
her ankle. Fire raged in her lungs. She kicked with all her might, attempting to get to the surface.
Swimming was something that Rose knew how to do. Growing up on the beach had honed her skills. It was hard to focus under duress, but she tried.
Grasping her last bit of energy before the blackness took over, Rose pushed once more for the surface. But it was futile. She was going to die in the ocean. Her mind went hazy for a moment as she started to give up, allowing her arms and legs to still.
That was until two arms wrapped around her and hoisted her to the surface. The first thing she did was inhale the salty air. Water crashed around her, but something splashed nearby. It was coming back for her.
‘Swim, honey,’ Mom said.
Rose’s legs were weak, and her ankle throbbed. She wanted to check herself out, but instinct won. Even though she didn’t have much strength left, she clawed for the shore.
Once Rose collapsed on the sand, a figure came into view. It was Mom, walking out of the ocean, wearing her now see-through nightgown. It clung to her body as if it were a part of her skin.
Mom knelt next to Rose and pulled her onto her lap.
Rose trembled in her mother’s arms. How did she know I needed help?
Mom’s eyes bulged, and she drew Rose up against her chest, squeezing out most of the air in her lungs. ‘I’m so sorry, Rose.’
The weight of almost drowning pressed against Rose’s body, and she choked out a sob as she fisted the wet fabric of her shirt.
I’m alive.
The lapping water reached Rose’s feet, and she curled her legs closer to her body.
Hot tears flowed down her cheeks, but they weren’t hers.
The shrill brrring of Rose’s phone cut through the otherwise silent kitchen. Her hand shot out, nearly spilling the coffee from her mug.
Two brown dots marked her khaki pants. ‘Dammit!’ So much for enjoying a quiet breakfast. Shuffling across the room, she grabbed her phone from the counter by the door.
The second she saw the name, her heart sank. Quickly swiping the screen, she brought the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘Rose Barros?’ the nasally voice enquired.
Rose placed her clammy hand on her forehead. ‘Yes, this is she.’ There’s a problem. If they’re calling me, there must be.
‘This is Jessie. I’m a CNA at the Whinding House.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Rose asked.
‘I wanted to inform you that your mother had a fall this morning.’
A breath caught in Rose’s throat.
‘She’s okay,’ Jessie continued before Rose could ask. ‘But we’re required to inform you.’
‘Was she injured?’ Rose asked.
‘Nothing life-threatening,’ she said. ‘A sprained wrist. One of our staff was helping her out of bed, and she lost her footing.’
Thank God she’s not hurt too badly. The digital clock on the microwave read 8.15 a.m. ‘Should I come over there?’ It would have to be a quick visit before her shift started.
‘There’s no need, I –’
‘I’m on my way,’ Rose said, hanging up.
Flicking her finger across her phone screen, she went to her Favorites and pressed her thumb over Missy’s name. While the dial tone trilled in her ear, Rose grabbed her half-eaten slice of toast and stuffed another bite into her mouth before rinsing off the plate.
Missy’s voice came after the fourth ring. ‘Hello?’
‘Hey, it’s me,’ Rose said through the food in her mouth.
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to be late,’ Missy said.
Rose cringed. ‘Mom had a fall last night.’
‘Shit,’ Missy said. ‘All right, I got you covered.’
‘I’m going to try and make it in time. As long as traffic isn’t bad –’
‘Take your time, Rosie,’ Missy said.
Rose sighed. ‘Thank you.’
‘See you soon,’ Missy said then hung up.
Being best friends with her boss had a few perks. Even though she hated to be late for anything, Pearl’s fall was an unknown wrench in her plan.
Good thing Rose got up early that morning. Instead of rushing to change, she ignored the small coffee stain on her pants – she’d get more than that at work – and grabbed her keys from the basket next to the fridge.
As it did most days, the photograph on the freezer door caught her eye. A couple with two young girls smiled back at her. They stood in front of the house she’d grown up in. Rose reached out and smoothed her finger over Dad’s face and then focused on the little dark-haired girl with the devious glint in her eyes. Her arm wrapped around little Rose’s shoulders, holding her close. She’d kept the picture as a reminder of simpler times when her family was a strong unit and not broken by hard times.
To call Reen or not…that was the question. Reen hadn’t been involved in any decisions when it came to Pearl’s future. There wasn’t time for an argument, not this early in the morning.
Telling her sister about Mom’s fall wasn’t going to help heal their rift. In fact, it was an invitation to a different conversation, one that they’d had ad nauseam.
Instead, Rose pushed the thought out of her mind and headed for the door. Humid air caught in her throat, but there were looming gray clouds in the distance. Not wanting to take any more chances with her clothes before work, she grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulder and went outside.
The ride over to the Whinding House was mostly uneventful. The annual Mermaid Festival kicked off later that week, and preparations were underway.
In the 1800s, there were rumors of mermaids living off the coast of The Burrow. Sailors and fishers weaved stories of the beautiful half-human, half-fish creatures who took lonely men to the deep. Sometimes the townsfolk blamed the creatures for ill weather and sinking ships. The rumors stuck around for a long time until one of the townspeople came up with the idea to honor the mermaids, instead of fearing them.
After the first festival, the story goes that no more men fled from their homes to answer the siren call and the fishers were prosperous for years to come. The town kept the tradition alive, even though it became a fruitful time for the businesses on land instead of those that relied on the water for their livelihoods.
Rose thanked whoever watched over her that there wasn’t traffic yet. She had a slim window of time to get to work before Missy.
The parking lot was mostly empty, other than the vans that transported the non-memory-care residents on day trips or to appointments.
Rose parked closest to The Cottage, the red brick building under lockdown at the back of the property. When she chose a place for Pearl to live the rest of her life, Rose hadn’t taken anything lightly.
The beautifully renovated Victorian house at the front of the complex had been a welcome sight, but the cost of the care was much more than she could afford. While Mom’s insurance helped, extra hours working at The Siren restaurant and renting her childhood home were the only ways she could get Mom the care she needed.
Flinging open the door to the building, Rose charged inside to the front desk.
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