"Your mama doesn't need time. She needs a healthy daughter."
I wondered what kind of daughter he referred to. One who wouldn't follow her dreams, perhaps? One who would bow down and do whatever it was he wanted her to do with her precious time left in this world? Not that I couldn't see where my family was coming from. It was heartbreaking, I'm sure, to watch your sick kid making a life somewhere else. But that was what my parents hadn't realized.
New York wasn't about New York. It was about independence.
It was about doing what I wanted to do, experiencing life out of the bubble my parents had created for me. Most of all, it was about finding out who I was without people dictating it for me.
"Rosie's boyfriend, Dean Cole, called Baron yesterday, telling him they wanted to come here and announce their relationship." Millie took my hand and smiled, that type of smile that lit up the room and the one next to it. "It's Thanksgiving, and we have so much to be thankful for. I have a baby coming soon, and Rosie is happy and doing so well health-wise. We wanted to celebrate together. I'm sure you remember Dean and I used to date in high school. I'm also certain you remember how it ended. Briefly. Tragically. But, as you may recall, not heartbreakingly."
Millie rubbed circles on my back, trying to soothe my nerves away. I was legit too nervous to breathe.
"I don't want to dwell on the past, but I do find it important to say one thing to make sure our future is brighter: Baron and I were always meant to be together. Everyone knew that. Everyone … but us. As for Dean and Rosie?" She sighed, shaking her head, the sorrow seeping from her expression. Millie knew how much it hurt me, us, and wished she could take it back. "Mama, Daddy, they were crazy for one another from day one. I hadn't noticed, because I was too busy being a selfish teenager, but there is no way I am hurt or annoyed by their relationship. Just look at her." She flipped my hair and grinned. "She is glowing. And when she is happy, we should all be happy. Do I look dejected in any way?" She cradled her tummy and laughed, and I laughed with her, not because I was feeling relieved or optimistic, but because my sister was the definition of health, and even if I wasn't, I liked that what I would leave behind was safe and whole.
Emilia was both.
Daddy finally lifted his eyes from the paper. "Is that true, Rose? Did you always love Dean Cole?"
I couldn't read his tone. Was it serious? Sad? Disappointed? Pleased? Did he think I was an idiot for loving a man who wasn't mine to love, or did he appreciate the sacrifice I had made for my sister all those years ago?
"Always." I blushed, looking down to my knotted fingers. "I've always loved him."
And it was the uncomfortable truth no one wanted to hear. No one but the man who didn't know it. Dean himself.
My father pushed himself away from the table, hands on his waist, looking ready for another argument.
"Is he taking care of you? We need to know."
Jesus Christ. Either my dad was the biggest caveman to walk on Earth in the twenty-first century or he really thought I was a useless sack of bones. He trusted Emilia with my life when we lived together. He trusted Darren without even meeting him. But me? Nah. He'd put his faith in a crusty pair of underwear before he believed in me, so it seemed.
Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I offered a small nod.
"Yes, Daddy. He looks after me." My jaw moved back and forth, every feminist cell in my body demanding I would put him in his place.
"Are you sure?"
"He packed my medicine and my supplies for me before we arrived here." Biting my tongue to prevent myself from lashing out, I continued. "He sends me a taxi three times a week so I won't miss my physiotherapy sessions. And comes with me to Dr. Hasting when he has the time."
"When he has the time." Daddy snorted, shaking his head. "Of course."
"Paul," my mother warned, looking down at the table.
"Yes, fine. I'm willing to talk to this man, but it changes nothing, Rose. We still want you here in Todos Santos. If you want your mama and me to stand behind you while you're … doing whatever it is you're doing in New York," he waved his hand dismissively, but for the first time in the weeks since I'd visited here, didn't look at me like I was unworthy of his time, "you gotta make some promises and changes to set our minds at ease. Because you are sick, Rosie-bug. And we're worried. Everything we want and ask from you-is for your own benefit."
Rosie-bug. Choking on my tears, I nodded.