Grandma’S Rose: a Breath Taking Novel of Hope, Unconditional Love, Hurt and Disappointment: Rose and Christine’S Longing Wish

By Cathy L. Young

Throughout the story Christine continues to show her undying unconditional love for Rose as family gossip, jealousy and criticism split them apart.


Christine shares a deep connection with her daughter Rose by relating Rose to her flowers that she love so much.



As time goes on and Christine began to age she realizes all she had is her flowers and her family.



Christine wills to hold on until the end hoping to see Rose and not matter what the family says Christine never give up on her hope for Rose as she tries to do all that she could to make Rose close to her again. In the end Christine struggles for her life and fight until the end as her dying wish goes to her grave.


The content is also hilarious. So, enjoy the story as much as I have.



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• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463450151

Cathy L. Young

Cathy L. Young, a native African American from [unreadable info], is an aspiring [unreadable info] author and writer. The native comes from a large family of [unreadable info] and is the mother of two daughters and a granddaughter. She graduated and went to college for two years….

Book preview

Grandma’s Rose

A Breath Taking Novel of Hope, Unconditional Love, Hurt

and Disappointment

Book 2

Rose and Christine’s Longing Wish

Cathy L. Young

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2011 by Cathy L. Young. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/10/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-5013-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-5015-1 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Grandma’s Rose

Her purpose was completed.

Her wish was never fulfilled.

Grandma never got her wish.

ALSO BY CATHY YOUNG

Grandma’s Rose—Book 1

The Beginning of Christine’s Life and Rose

Song Birds

Wings Of A Poetic Mind

Every Now and Then

Acknowledgments

I’d like to acknowledge mother, Rose, for her knowledge, wisdom and support, as well as my brother Clifton Ferguson Jr. Thank you both for making this novel possible.

I’d also like to thank my daughters, Arcyea and Arteasha, as well as granddaughter, Aaliyah, for every act of kindness and support. Without you all, I wouldn’t have made it through the production process of this novel.

I also want to thank my godmother, Elder Tamarshal Adkins, for pushing me to my destiny. I want to also thank the entire AuthorHouse staff for the production of Grandma’s Rose.

I give great thanks and appreciation most of all to God, who’s made this possible. Thanks, everybody.

Her Scars Have Marked Her Years

Her scars have marked her years,

Her eyes have twenty-four-karat tears.

She reached to hold her rose,

Her rose crystallized and froze.

Her tears have wrapped her still,

Her heart’s desires unfulfilled.

One mark one scar too many,

Her long-awaited years more than twenty.

Her dying wish screams from the grave,

With all her heart she gave and she gave.

Her hurt was like bits and pieces of broken glass,

Hidden away in her tall, overgrown past.

A wish, a dream, sometimes will find you,

Even when death lies ahead or behind you.

Her scars have marked her years.

Rose the Sparrow Delights in You

Rose the sparrow delights in you,

The sparrow longs to take a rest upon you.

Rose, you’ve been planted in the hidden valley,

You’ve collected gold dust from the hard, hidden winds

And alleys.

You’re God’s creation,

You’re one true gift of all,

The ground holds your petals when they fall.

Rose the sparrow delights in you.

Flowers and roses are also important,

but they could never take her place.

Chapter 1

Rose and Clinton had fought all night and into the next morning. Clinton was wrestling with Rose, trying to take the gun from her—that’s when she pulled the trigger and shot him twice in the abdomen. Their children, scared and crying, hid under their bed. Clinton ran out of the house, screaming for help, even after Rose threatened to kill him if he went to the police and reported her.

Rose was so afraid; she couldn’t believe that she’d shot him. She hid the gun and then went to the kids’ room, found her daughter’s Halloween mask, and put it on to cover her facial bruises. Then she ran outside where Clinton was still screaming for help. I’m… I’m sorry Clinton! she cried. Don’t tell! I don’t want to go to prison. As much as you put me through, I swear I’ll kill you dead! I’ll kill you if you live! Rose knelt down and tried to hold him up.

Rose, if I die, I want you to know I’m sorry for laying my hands on you. I forgive you. I love you, Rose! I love you! Oh, I hurt so bad, my insides are stinging! I’m gone die! Clinton wailed.

Help! Help! Rose screamed to every car passing by, as Clinton reached out his hands toward the cars.

The neighbors called the ambulance and police. They quickly arrived and wanted to know what happened. Clinton looked at Rose with terror in his eyes, and he lied to Officer Michael Standpoint, reporting that somebody had done a drive-by shooting while he was walking in front of his house.

The officer took the report without question and said, Well, sir, we’re going to get you some help as fast as we can. He turned to Rose. Ma’am, are you all right? You know him?

I don’t know, and I don’t know him. Yes, sir, I’m all right, Rose said. Officer Standpoint and the other officers had no idea that Rose had shot Clinton.

Delta and Ray, the next-door neighbors, came out of their house but didn’t say anything. They knew Rose had shot Clinton, but they only stood in their front yard and watched. They had known it was only a matter of time before Rose and Clinton’s altercations would lead to this.

Rose had gotten tired of Clinton’s beating on her, and she had told Clinton if he ever laid his hands on her again, she’d shoot him. And today she did—it was truly self-defense.

Clinton was taken by ambulance to the emergency room. Officer Montgomery walked around in the front yard, looking for evidence because the case seemed so suspicious. David, I don’t suspect foul play, Montgomery told his fellow officer. I believe it was a drive-by, like he said.

Okay, Officer David said, He got in his patrol car, and they drove off. The neighbors were still standing outside. Rose went inside the house and locked the door, fearful that someone might tell the truth of what had happened. Rose looked for the children. They were hiding under the bed because they were so afraid. She had a hard time making them come from under their bed, as they lay still beside each other and cried.

Rose’s mother, Christine, had heard about the shooting. When she couldn’t find a ride to Rose’s house, she walked over. She nearly fainted when she saw the puddles of blood on the sidewalk and bloody handprints all over Rose’s car. She thought for sure it was Rose’s blood—that she was either dead or seriously hurt. Oh no! Oh no! God, no! Rose! Damn my Rose! Christine screamed as she ran to the front door. But before she could even knock, Rose opened the door and embraced her as they both cried. Rose! My baby Rose! Are you all right? What happened? Why’s blood everywhere? Christine asked.

Mama, I shot Clinton! Rose cried. I shot him! We were wrestling with the gun, and I pulled the trigger, Mama!

Christine’s eyes popped opened as her bottom lip dropped.

I couldn’t take anymore of the beatings, Rose cried as she embraced Christine as tightly as she could. I was getting the hell beat out of me, so I shot him.

Christine held Rose’s head up and looked at her face. Rose’s face was black and blue, and she had a busted, bloody lip. Her eyes were so swollen, they were almost shut; she could hardly see out of one of them. God! Oh, God! Your face! Your eyes! Christine wailed. I hate that you got mixed up with his ass! God, Rose I can’t believe he’d do this to you! Did you kill him?

I don’t know! Rose cried.

If he’s dead, you know what’s gonna happen. I don’t want you to end up behind bars, although he deserves it. You got these kids. Shame on Clinton for causing all this! Christine shouted.

I know! Rose cried.

I’m glad he didn’t shoot you, my baby Rose! Christine cried. Where’s the kids, Rose?

Scared! Mama, they keep going back under their bed. He broke their bedroom window out, and came in, and started beating on me, Rose said.

Lord have mercy! When is all this mess gone end? Look at what these poor kids are going through. Christine went to their room. They were terrified but glad to see her as they reached for her. She finally got them to come out from underneath the bed.

G, Rose’s eight year old son, crawled up on Christine’s lap. Mama, I want to go home with you. I don’t want to stay here. I’m scared of the bogeyman! The bogeyman came through our window. We’re scared! G said. Christine sat on the floor and hugged Rose’s kids as they jumped in her lap. Y’all come on with me and stay a few nights, she said. Rose, you need to move from here. You don’t need to stay here anymore.

I know, Mama, Rose said. As soon as I find somewhere else to go, I will.

Rose, how in the hell did you get out of going to jail? Christine asked.

Mama, I told him if he ever reported the shooting to the police, I’d kill him! I swear! I’ll kill him dead, and I do mean it. He knows I mean it. He told the police that it was a drive-by and some unknown person shot him. They believed him. My face was covered with Cathy’s Halloween mask, so they didn’t see my face. After all he’s put me through, he knew not to tell on me.

I hate to see you take anybody’s life, but in your case, it would be self-defense. I just can’t believe he’d beat you that bad. He pushed you to the limit, Christine said.

If he dies, Mama, I’ll never come forward with the truth. I don’t want to be locked up, and I don’t know if I could live with myself, Rose said.

Rose knew that ever since she shot Clinton, staying at that house wasn’t going to be the same. Now, it was a bad memory, a scar that couldn’t be erased.

Clinton stayed several weeks in the hospital and recovered from his wounds. By the time he was released, Rose had moved from Thirteenth Street and didn’t tell him where she’d moved—Christine convinced Rose to move into a duplex next door to her.

Rose was through with Clinton for good but that didn’t stop him from looking for her. He searched high and low but couldn’t find her—until one night she went to PJ’s nightclub, and he happened to be there. He followed her home that night. Ever since she’d moved to Georgia Street, she’d been seeing Stack Nelson; he was now her new boyfriend. But on that night Clinton followed her home, he was so drunk that he jumped on Rose as she got out of her car and accused her of sleeping with men she’d met at the club.

When Christine heard Clinton and Rose outside fighting, she got her twelve-gauge shotgun, came outside, and shot it in the air. Clinton was so scared, he wet his jeans. He tried to get in the car with his buddies, but they took off, leaving him running behind the car. Christine continued to fire shots in the air, and Clinton ran two blocks before his buddies decided to turn around and get him.

Rose, since you didn’t kill him, I’m gone kill that son of a bitch, Christine said. He ain’t gone beat on my child in front of my face! I mean that!

Rose went into her mother’s house to get her children. Mama, you know I think I’m pregnant again, Rose said.

"What? What you got to be kidding me? You got enough kids by that son of a bitch.