Page 97 of Coming Up Roses
“Abi,” I say, pulling over to the shoulder of the road and when the car behind me has passed, I do a U-turn.
“I know you don’t want to hear from me,” she says, panic threaded through her voice. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracks over her words and she lets out a huge, heaving sob.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sadie’s sick. I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. You can do this, Abigail. You’re her mum. You’re already doing it.”
She doesn’t speak, just lets out a few more sobs. She’s trying hard to control them, but her control is slipping with each one.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Bathroom. On the floor.”
“Where is Sadie?”
“On my bed.”
Okay, just across the hall. She’s still nearby. I let out a breath and calm myself. There’s no use in me arriving panicked.
“Sadie’s sick,” Abi whimpers. “She won’t stop throwing up.”
I pull into her driveway, parking beside her car and disconnect my phone from the Bluetooth before turning off the engine.
I stride up the driveway and take the three porch steps in one. I push open the door, lifting it just right to stop it from sticking.
I race down the hallway and peek into Abi’s room. Sadie is curled into a tiny ball on a layer of towels, a bucket sitting on thefloor beside the bed. She’s resting peacefully so I spin around and step into the bathroom.
Abi’s on the floor, curled into a position much like her daughter’s, tears running down her face and her phone clasped to her ear.
I end the call between us and Abi pulls her phone away from her ear, staring at the screen.
“Flynn?” she whispers, voice completely broken. She drops the phone to the floor and lets out a sob that wracks her entire body.
“I’m here, Rosie. I’m here.”
I fall to my knees beside her and pull her to me, wrapping my arms tight around her. She buries her face against my neck, her fingers twisting in the front of my shirt.
“I’ve got you. Take a breath for me, Rosie,” I say, dragging my hand down her spine in long, soothing strokes. She sucks down a lungful of air. “Another one, then tell me what you can hear.”
I’d usually start with what she can see, but right now it’s only my shirt, so we’ll start with hearing. I just need her to focus on right now, in this moment, and not the chaos happening inside her head.
“Your voice,” Abi says with a soft sigh. “I can hear your voice.”
“Atta girl. Can you hear anything else?”
She pauses for a moment, drawing in another breath, this one easier than the last. “Your heart,” she murmurs. “Thub-thump. Thub-thump. Thub-thump. I can smell you too. You smell so good,” she mumbles.
I smooth the hair back from her face and she lifts her head. I use my thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“You’re here,” she says.
“I’m here,” I agree. “You called.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, pushing herself off my lap. She inhales and it shakes. “I know you don’t want to see me, but I didn’t know what to do. Sadie …”
She shoots to her feet and races out of the room, straight across the hall to her room. When she sees Sadie still asleep in the centre of her bed, Abi releases a sigh, her whole body slumping.
