Blood Roses & Honeysuckles

By Tamara Woods

Addy Whitecotton wakes up in a hospital after an accident she doesn't remember having. In fact, she doesn't have many memories at all. With her legs covered in bandages and more questions than answers, Addy is desperate to discover the sordid pieces of her past that brought her to the tiny town of Tiltonsille, WV, and why they won't quite piece together just right.

She and her childhood best friend, Bernie are on a parallel path of facing down the demons of their past. Addy has forgotten hers; Bernie's been living a lie that her past won't let her forget. Once they've sorted through the rubble of their memories, will their friendship withstand the fire, or will it burn down to the ground?

Blood Roses and honeysuckles is a tale of love and loyalty, self-indulgent carelessness and what happens when intentions are true even in the methods aren't.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tamara Woods
• Release date: Oct 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732836600

Book preview

Part 1

Addy

Chapter One

NOW

Cement blocks weighed down my legs. Or at least it felt that way. I looked at those two useless lumps, but I couldn’t feel them. I could flex my toes a little, but nothing to write home about. Not being able to move your legs is the worst feeling.

Tubes ran from the crook in my right arm to the baggies hanging from the IV pole. The light had that antiseptic brightness, and was possibly trying to burn out my retinas. My brain was fuzzy; I couldn’t focus my thoughts. I licked my lips. Dry, cracked. I blinked a few more times, and tried to clear my throat. It was like someone had rubbed it raw with sandpaper.

Awake, I see. Here you are. Your morning cup of ice.

I darted my gaze to the side. A woman, a nurse. She was a nurse. Her practical white shoes squeaked against the tile floor. She wore the light-blue scrubs typical to folks in the helping profession, though hers featured kittens playing with balls of yarn.

Where... Why...? I croaked. Why was I so dry? I took the glass thankfully, and sucked on the ice chips, hoping to rejuvenate.

She held up her hand. Wait before you ask questions- I know you have many. Your doctor will be with you in a moment. She smiled sympathetically, and patted me on the knee.

I could actually feel the contact. That was a plus. I wanted to argue, frown, complain, to... anything, but instead I just nodded. It all seemed dimly familiar. Had we played this game before? Like a card game I’d wasted one night. The rules vaguely recognizable, but I couldn’t name one to save my life. She picked up the chart at the end of my bed; made a couple of notations. Asked if I needed to use the bathroom. She explained the nurse call button by the bed, probably not for the first time. She smiled again, and squeaked away in her sensible shoes.

I chewed on more ice and looked around the room. The bed beside me was empty, which was a relief. I didn’t want to deal with any new people. The room was fairly clean. A television attached to an anchor on the wall. It didn’t quite face me. Maybe I hadn’t been here for long? Or I hadn’t been in the mood for television. There was a door on one side of the room, which I assumed was the bathroom. More ice. More chomping. It was loud inside my head against the almost-noiseless sneakers gliding across the floor and the worried clatter of heels as family members rushed to meet their loved ones.

I glanced at the table beside me. To my surprise, it wasn’t bare. I picked up the magazine, an issue of Seventeen Magazine, which was still one of my favorites, even though I was way past 17years-old. A couple cards. A vase of wilted flowers. (Wilted?)

A stuffed cat looked familiar. He looked like my cat- Mr. Muffy. Who was taking care of him? My emotions felt like they were wrapped in a filmy gauze. One of those baggies hooked to my arm must’ve been filled with some type of medication. That was OK. I didn’t want to unwrap my thoughts at that moment. Too many of them would make me feel too full up. Unsafe.  

Why did I think unsafe?

This was exhausting.

Thinking and rethinking and wondering. I couldn’t put my thoughts in order,

Hoped the doctor would come soon.

I picked up Mr. Muffy 2.0 the hospital years, and put him on my lap. If only he actually purred. That would’ve felt like home.

I must have dozed off for a few minutes (days?). When I opened my eyes again, a different person stood looking at my chart. This time, the outfit was much less whimsical, the face much more masculine. Doctor, maybe?

Hello doctor, I said. He doesn't smile or offer any words of encouragement. I can tell that this guy must be really fun at parties.

Do you remember your name? he asked, his voice abrupt. No frills with this guy.

My name? Of course I remember my name. It's-

I stopped. This wasn't what I’d expected. What was my name? It was wrapped in the filmy gauze with my emotions. What else was locked in there?

You don't remember?

I shook my head.

He sighed. Addelaine. Your name is Addelaine. You're at the Ruby Memorial Hospital in the burn recovery unit.

Addelaine felt wrong. Too formal. That was the name on my birth certificate only pulled out for traffic stops and telemarketers. I didn't bother correcting him. It felt useless and entirely too much effort. Besides, I had a few questions of my own.

How long have I been here, Doctor? I asked.

You've been herein the burn unit for a little over two months Addelaine. You're having trouble recalling information because you were in an accident.

He kept speaking in that flat no-nonsense tone, but my mind stopped and tripped over burn unit and accident. The latter kept flipping over and over in my head and it brought waves of heat.

Burning heat.

I started shaking. When I looked down at my legs, I saw them with the flesh burned off. Bits of bone showing, my skin torn. And the smell. My charred flesh. Burned bacon that would keep me off the stuff for years. I started screaming, unable to control myself. My weak voice, husky from smoke inhalation, made me sound more like a mad, barking dog than a human. My screams did stop the doctor words. He started shouting for a nurse. I think one rushed in and pushed something into my IV, but I couldn’t see past the blackened mess of my legs.

I DRIFTED BACK INTO consciousness slowly, emerging from an ocean of blissful thoughtlessness. I had some indistinct impressions. Hurried movements, urgent calls, but the smell of bacon was gone now. I was safe. Safe. I felt a wave of guilt. Something had happened. Somebody wasn’t safe. Not anymore. The ideas were too fluid, thought, and I was too tired to fight for a hold on them.

I opened my eyes slowly. A hand was beside mine on the bed. Chipped pink nail polish on the tips. Pale skin. Freckles. Bernie. Bernadette. Bernie. I knew the hands. I knew her name. Why hadn't I known my own? I was—

Addy, are you awake, girl? Bernie's voice washed over my nerves; it was so familiar. I let her words wrap around me like a down comforter on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come. Though I wasn't sure if I'd ever actually waited for Santa, or if I even owned a comforter.

Hey Bernie, I said, trying to smile, but failing. It felt like my face would split in half if I smiled too wide.

I hear you had a bad day today, she said, looking down at our hands.

I looked at mine too. It was bandaged. I couldn’t see what laid beneath, but apparently my mind remembered. I decided not to think on it for too long. The memories, or the hallucinations, or whatever that had been would overwhelm me. I didn’t want to worry her. Her face was dawn. Her hair was snatched up in a rooster clip, several dirty blonde strands sliding out. I struggled for a safe topic.

Where are the kids? I asked, before I had considered the words. I felt the eight of them, the truth to them. Yup, she had kids. My honorary nephews.

She smiled then, it reached her eyes, transforming her face into something almost pretty.

You know how those boys are, Addy. They’re crazy. Always getting into things and doing too much. If I survive to forty with all my hair, it’ll be a miracle from God.

I giggled, like I was supposed to. I felt lighter now than I had in ages. Or at least today. I was sure she’d been here before, but for some reason, seeing her now made things better.

Is my memory going to be like this forever? These black spots in the middle of time? I asked. The words were hot on my tongue. Dark. Dank. Weeds growing out of the dark corners and finding their way around the light.

Dr. Stephenson said you’ll eventually remember stuff like you used to. Or at least you should. That brain of yours has always been a crazy place to be. You must need some time. To deal with...everything.

I nodded like I knew what she was talking about, but I hadn't a clue. I didn't want to ask more questions, but it was an impulse I couldn't seem to stop. Like crying out earlier. Or breathing.

Where's your asshole husband at? I tried to soften the question with a funny face. It didn't work.

You know, one day you two will have a come to Jesus moment and you won't be fighting like cats and dogs all the damn time.

That time won't be today, I said. This truth had a different feel to it. It was heavy and dirty and years old. It was like getting along with that man was something I’d tried to do, but gave up on entirely. I didn’t care anymore. Didn't care for him. It felt like disgust. Distrust.

No, I suppose not.  Bernie looked away. Batted a hair out of her face like a cat. He's fine. He's out there on the circuit. Woodchopping season is happening right now, Addie. He's out there trying to make himself a super star.

Good luck with that one, I mumbled under my breath. I wasn't feeling very charitable.

Chapter Two

Then

Isat at the end of the park bench, eating my peanut butter and mayo sandwich. Mamaw had made it special for me the night before. She always made my sandwiches. Mama said she didn't have time to fool around with that kind of stuff. She was real busy.

I watched the other kids swinging on the swing sets, hanging from the jungle gym, and spinning round and round on the merry-go-round. There were even kids running after each other, playing tag on all that grass. My house ain’t got a lot of grass, a little piece out back. Mama said we don’t have no call for grass anyways, and who was gonna cut it? Not her. Mamaw couldn’t. And I was still too little. I would turn eight on February twentieth, but that was a long time to go. I took another bite of my sandwich and washed it down with my red drink.

Hey you, fatty fat face, why don't you go somewhere else and eat? You're stealing all our air!

The boys were making fun of me again. I couldn’t remember their names. Mama said names gave people power. To forget somebody’s name took away that power. I would never know those three dummies’ names. I ignored them and kept chewing my sandwich. They yelled more things at me, but I didn’t look up.

In my mind, I was sitting on a throne at the front of a real big room, like in Cinderella when she’s going to meet Prince Charming’s parents. Except, I was the queen. My crown was filled with beautiful jewels and I wore a huge ball gown. I was beautiful and untouchable. They’re just peasants who would clean my hall afterward. I sat a little straighter and took another bite of my royal bite of my royal peanut butter and mayo.

This blond girl was walking toward me. She was in Miss Susan’s kindergarten class too. Her hair was wild as she, hanging down to her butt. She had said once in class that she ain’t never had it cut. She had on a ratty pair of shoes, but her jeans and T-shirt were real clean. She was smiling at me.

That was weird, because not many people smiled at me. They always had something mean to say to me about Mama and Mamaw.

Hey, you’re name’s Addelaine, ain’t it?

I shrugged, trying to figure out her game.

I’m Bernadette. My friends call me Bernie. You’re my friend now, so you can call me Bernie too. I’m gonna sit here.

She sat down before I could say a word.

I really like ABBA, cuz Dancing Queen is an awesome song, but Turn the Beat Around is real cool too, and I don’t know which one I like the best. Which one’s your favorite?

I was stunned. I had a friend? Just like that? That was how it worked? I’d been trying to figure it out all this time. Apparently, friendship was much easier than I’d figured.

What? Cat got your tongue?

I don't have a cat, I said. Mama don't like them. But when I get bigger I'm gonna have one.

She nodded. Having a cat is ‘portant. My mommy said having a pet helps you to be more ‘sponsible. You got a puppy or a pig or nothing?

A pig?! I laughed at the thought of Mama, wearing her red furry slippers, running in the back of the house after a pig. No way! My mama don't like animals.

When we're big, we'll both have pets. You'll get a cat. I'll make sure of it.

She patted my shoulder, and apparently that was that. Bernie had said it would happen, so that's the way it would be. She pulled her sandwich out of her Wonder Woman lunch box and told me she had ham and cheese. She had a baggie with bar-b-que corn chips, and I had plain potato chips. We traded, and that cemented our friendship.

MY MAMA SAID YOU AND your whole family ain’t nuttin' but whores, one of those mean peasants said to me the next day. His friend's eyes got real big, because he'd said a word that they all knew they weren't supposed to say, but they must’ve liked it too. We'd just got off the bus. We weren’t even at school yet and they were already started.

That one word changed my whole day. Whore was now their favorite word for me. Fat whore. Stupid whore. Whory whore. I didn't understand what the word meant, but I knew that it was something bad. Real bad. And if that's what they thought I was, then I was something real bad too. It was harder and harder to think of them as peasants and more and more like I was a piece of dirt.

By the end of the day, I was thanking Jesus we would be leaving soon.  While we waited for the buses to come pick us up, Miss Susan went across the hall to talk to the art teacher, Miss Cindy. They were best friends, just like me and Bernie. She always went to visit her at the end of the day. That's when the kids would really be jerks. But they had to be quiet or else she'd run back in and everybody got into trouble. The classroom was set up with the chairs in rows and I tried to stay away from as many people as possible. Of course, that didn't work. I hated it. This was when they tried their hardest to make me cry. I knew if I cried that would bring the rest of them around, like I was Little Red Riding Hood and they were all the Big Bad Wolf. 

That boy and his two friends came up to me. Again.

You know what's black and blue and smells all over? You. Cuz you look like dog crap, he said laughing. His friends laughed too. The insult didn't have to make sense, they'd still laugh like they were going to pee their pants.

I didn't say nothing. I kept my eyes forward and looked at the big letters beside the blackboard at the front of the room. A was for Apple. B was for Banana. C for was Cup. Maybe if I didn't look at him, he'd go away.

I knew what he was saying was bad. Real bad. Once when we were at the Thrift Plus, one of the ladies there called mama that. She said it loud enough for Mama to hear her, but to one of her friends. Mama had been drinking before she took us shopping. She tore that place up and we're not allowed in there anymore. I don't talk to Mama about that word. I don't want to find out what it means from her. I stared down at that the floor, counting the number of tiles.

Hey, whoreface, he said and I looked up startled. He was right beside me. He shook his hips at me, his stomach pouch sticking out over his belt, almost touching his down there against my cheek. I slid out of my wooden desk and backed away from him.

I stood frozen, my eyes darting all over the place. None of the other girls had to deal with this. They were all talking on the other side of the room, not even paying attention. Mamaw had told me if a boy ever tried to do something to me that I didn't like, I needed to run. And that's just what I was gonna do. I'd go get Miss Susan, that's what I'd do and she'd fix him real good. You can't do that to people! I'd go—

Hey! Leave my best friend alone, Bartholomew or I'm gonna tell Miss Susan on you! Bernie came in from nowhere and got in Bartholomew's face. She sat in the front of the class, but she must have heard them. Everybody was watching now. I felt the heat of a blush starting up my neck. I didn't want people looking at me. I just wanted to be alone. Why wouldn't anybody leave me alone?

Bernie was way shorter than him, but made up for it with her temper. I'd seen her go off on people before she decided she was my friend. I used to stay clear of her. She'd probably pop him a good one if he wasn't careful.

You go ahead and tell her, he said. She knows them Whitecottons ain’t worth nothing.

He couldn't look Bernie in the eye. It was like she didn't realize how much bigger he was. She wasn't even scared a little bit.

I’ll tell you this much, she said, her finger in his face. If you talk to my best friend like that again, I'm telling! We can find out what Miss Susan really thinks about it. I bet you, you won't be saying too much in detention with Mr. Roger.

I could feel everyone inhale sharply. This was a threat beyond threats. Mr. Roger was our gym teacher and he was the worst. He liked to make kids run in the gym room during detention. Run for a real long time. Bobby Taylor puked the last time he was in detention.

He balled up his fist. You better get your finger out my face. You might be little and a girl, but I will stomp you.

Hey, we're gonna get into trouble. I don't want my Mom to get mad at me. One of his friends, tried to pull him away, but he wouldn't budge.

Bernie, thanks and stuff. We should go get the teacher, I said, tugging at her arm. She shrugged me off. Is this what best friends do? I wasn’t sure.

Yeah Bernadette why don't you get out of my face before I make you, bitch face? he said.

It was like another person's voice came out of this boy's body. He was taller than all of us, but he was still just a kid. My eyes bugged. I don't think I like school very much. Bernie had a strange smile on her face. I didn't really like that smile either.

Cain't get in trouble just for pointing at somebody, she said. But I can get in trouble for this. And she poked him right in his eye.

I gasped. He screamed and dropped to his knees, grabbing his face. Bernie bent over a little, so her mouth was close to his ears. She hadn't lost that smile yet. It felt wrong somehow.

You don’t wanna mess with me, kid, she said.

Then she turned to me and smiled— the first real one in what seemed like forever. Let's go tell Miss Susan on him, best friend, she said. I don't want us to get into trouble because he's a jerkface.

She turned and swept out of the room as calm as you please. She should've been wearing the crown and gown of my fantasies. I hurried after her, trying not to look at those boys. I didn't ever want to be on her bad side.

Chapter Three

NOW

Icracked my eyes open and looked around a bit. I was tired of doing this over and over again. It was like that movie Groundhog Day , but more morphine and less laughs. My eyes were as caked and dry as my mouth. Who knew how long I'd been out this time? They were working pretty hard to keep me sedated. Probably so I wouldn't think about how screwed I was and flip out. A tray set on the side of the bed within arm's reach. The girl with the kitten pajamas had to be working. You could always trust someone with kitten pajamas.

No, that was wrong. Not pajamas. Scrubs. I was still a bit woozy, but eventually it would go back to normal. Hopefully.