Rose Garden [book two]

Chapter Nine

I had definitely poked the bear.

"Here are your discharge medical bills from your last visit combined with this visit," the pretty nurse with heavily pigmented skin and hazel eyes said to Niall and I, while we prepared to transfer Rosemarie to the last floor of the hospital which had specialized in blood. She handed the clipboard with the bill to me, and I only stared at it.

One bill said 20,000€ and the other 40,000€.

Niall snatched it from my hands, "I'm sorry... you weren't going to pay for these, were you?"

I was quiet because I deserved the blunt and snide side of Niall. It was only a matter a time before he'd bring up my joblessness. Every ounce of money in my account rightfully belonged to him.

"That's what I thought..." he spewed his words at me venomously.

He signed away on the papers, and I felt cruddy for everything. I wanted to break down and cry, but this was my own fault.

"I'm the deadbeat father, but I had enough sense to get my little girl some insurance, right?"

It was a new day, and of course we weren't over this, and I wouldn't be surprised if it lasted a week. This was his turn to bash me for being the broke and irresponsible mother. I wasn't cut out to be a mother, and I was going to end up a horrible one like my own. I knew this already.

He threw the clipboard onto the hospital bed in front of me, making me flinch.

"Come on, princess," Niall cooed to Rosemarie who had been trotting around the room with a aluminum balloon shaped as a heart that said Get Well Soon and a pink teddy bear that Niall had gotten her from the gift shop in the lobby. She'd taken the tiara off the bear and had placed it on her own head. She was the most happiest being in the world while choosing to ignore the needle in her hand and the extra big hospital gown, along with the cold atmosphere that hit her bare back. She climbed in the wheelchair that they were using to transport her, all by herself.

"Got it!" She cheered.

"I know you do, big girl," Niall replied as though it was so normal for her to just have conversations with him.

He had her small pink and purple princess backpack slung over one of his shoulders, pushing her wheel chair with one hand and the rack with her fluids bag with the other.

Niall was a great dad, so why did I treat him as though he were anything less? The image before my eyes had been proof that he was nothing like his own dad.

Then I remembered, suddenly why he had been so defensive about me pointing out that he had never been around. His dad had abandoned him, his brother and his mother when he was little, and he had to work at a young age to help contribute to his household. He'd grown up way too fast, and had the mentality of a middle-aged man sometimes.

Everything that I do is for you and for this little girl!

And maybe he wasn't around, but he continued to sing so that Rosemarie and I were able to eat everyday, sleep under a roof, and damn near breath.

A tear slid down my cheek, and just as I looked up to tell him how sorry I was, he had been pushing Rosemarie up the corridor and towards the elevator.

I took a separate elevator from the two to get my emotions intact, and when I'd arrived to Dr. McCan's office, I noticed they'd started without me. I huffed in a way that demanded attention by Niall, so I could shoot him a dirty, but was ignored entirely.

McCan greeted me, "Hi, you must be the infamous mother who sent the hospital on lock down yesterday!"

"That would be me," I shook her hand from across the desk, faking a smile. I hadn't known that that had been the case, but I pretended that I wasn't surprised.

"Okay, recapping you on all that I've told Mr. Horan here, basically, Rosemarie's system is malnourished causing the cancer to grow rapidly." I'd know this. This specialist was regurgitating what doctors had been telling us. I didn't need another lesson, I needed an answer on what we're suppose to do to get rid of the cancer.

At this point in time, I didn't feel like crying every time they mentioned the cancer because I knew I had to keep it together for Marie. And just as I was hanging on to my last strings of hope, Doctor McCan says to Niall and I as a further explanation: "The survival rate is about 95%... but Rosemarie had wedged her way into the incurable 5%."

Everything had abruptly started to move in slow motion as I peered at Niall. He had already leaned over with his elbows on his knees, further ruining his hair. Was he pulling his own hair? A strange noise had been emitted from Niall's body along the lines of a sob and a plead. I, myself, couldn't keep it together when my rock of sturdiness had broken down before my eyes.

I cried and groaned to myself and I repeated the same words, "This isn't fair. This isn't fair." She was an innocent little girl, unlike Kenadee who once stole candy out of a store. Not that Kenadee deserved any less than a life, but my kid deserved one too. Rosemarie had a completely blank slate.

"Mr. and Mrs. Horan," McCan said without actually realizing it, trying to bring us back to attention, but all I could think about was my baby one day becoming pale and lifeless.

Where even was Rosemarie? I swiveled around to look for her. She wasn't here.

"If we start right away and use aggressive treatment she would have a chance," she said.

Niall's voice croaked, "When's the soonest that we can start?"

"Today."

"Where is she, anyway?" I wiped my tears hastily.

"She's right there," McCan said, pointing out the of the room through one the glass walls of her office. A nurse had come up the hall pulling a wagon with Rosemarie in it. She had a jacket over her gown and a pink cap. In her hand, she was holding a blue Popsicle. Already, her lips had become blue. The fur on her bear was caked with the blue substance as though having  tried to feed it the treat. She no longer was holding her balloon, but it followed her around while attached to her IV rack.

I could only cry more.

"Well, we want the treatment today then," Niall speaks for both of us, except we no longer are a team. We don't agree on things. We seem to be people who are obligated to be together, not a family. When there was no more Rosemarie, we'd have no reason to be in the same room. Not even taking into consideration the fact that we shared the same friends. Or even the fact that my dad and his mom were somewhat of a team in terms of getting by in life... possibly even companions of support.

"We can't do it today. She'll only grow weaker and it'll hurt her. Not today. Look how happy she is." And her happiness seemed to be my biggest concern, even if that meant she was going to die.

"But we can't wait, Rosaline," the concerned father retaliates at me. This was seemingly the first time he'd said my name in a while. "We're wasting time!"

"We can't just take away the last happy day she might have," my puffy eyes seem to make everything dissaappear further. My sense of judgement was clouded with grief that was to come.

"Ma'am, the longer you wait, you risk your chances of deterioration along the lines of your baby being able to shift to the 95% range. I'm also suggesting that both of you get tested for a match of bone marrow so that we may proceed with a transplant for higher chances of survival, otherwise, your daughter will remain on the transplant list."