Love In Twenty And Five

DAY SIXTEEN AND SEVENTEEN

"And Joseph?" Mike breathed, staring at his hands.

"I stopped ripping at the bandaid. When I look at my scar and when I think of Joseph, I think of all the wonderful times we had together. It was short, but those years were the best years of my life, and now I have Eden and I get to have even better years. Life is worth living, and when you've got the right people by your side, it'll be even better."

"What if I already lost the right people? Maddie and Sarah were all I had."

"Maddie?"

"Yeah. Maddie was my little girl."

"Well, that's odd. Eden has a greenhouse with red roses everywhere. She calls them Maddie's roses. "

Mike froze, his heartbeat slowing down.

"They were once in a garden she had created in the back of the house, but as winter approached, she got a plastic greenhouse, put all those roses in flower pots and kept them in the greenhouse. Waste of money, if you ask me."

"Cou-could I please take a look?" Sweat broke out on his skin. She kept the roses?! Of course not, of course she didn't!

Lynette began pushing his chair, his heart racing as she did. They made their way through the kitchen and out the back door. True to her words, there was a greenhouse.

Mike must have stopped breathing when Lynette wheeled him into the greenhouse, his eyes immediately coming to rest of several flower pots filled with roses.

Slowly, he struggled to his feet, ignoring Lynette's protests. She kept the roses... She kept them alive, and groomed them, and multiplied.

Pain fought for his attention, but the red roses kept his attention. His finger grazed one of the petals, images of Maddie immediately taking over his mind.

"Spring." She whispered, visibly tired. Her once bright eyes were now dim. Her head, once covered with glorious, curly black hair, was now completely devoid of hair. She was thin; the cancer had eaten so deep into her body, she was barely recognisable. "My wish for Christmas is spring, Dad. I'd like to see spring one last time. Red roses as well. Colourful butterflies... Our house looks its best in the springtime."

"Mike." Lynette took hold of his hand and gently urged him back to the wheelchair.

He settled on it with a soft sigh, and briefly closed his eyes while he battled his emotions.

"I'll leave you here for a few more minutes if you promise to remain seated?" He nodded, unable to speak. "And Mike, we never run out of the right people, we're just too busy ripping our band aids out, to notice."

When she walked out of the greenhouse, Mike gave in to his grief for the first time since the evening his daughter died.

~*~

"Keep smiling, babe." Philip leaned close and whispered to Eden who was already exhausted from having to smile. She was tired of these events, and she was tired of the media.

"I would like to leave, Phil," she whispered back.

"Not now," he ground out through clenched teeth, a smile on his face. "We still need to do the interview."

"Does it matter that I'm exhausted?"

He turned to her then, a wide grin on his face. Burying his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a black box. "Merry Christmas, honey," he said, all little too loud.

"What?"

"Here," he said. He pulled open the box, and turned slightly —in her opinion, for the cameras to catch a glimpse of the diamond necklace. He pulled out the necklace and walked around her. She felt the cold metal settle on her neck, the camera lights blinding her. Philip's lips settled on her neck, as he whispered into her ears: "At least pretend to be excited."