Bitter Rose Read online

  © 2006 by Melody Carlson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without written permission from NavPress, P.O. Box 35001, Colorado Springs, CO 80935. www.navpress.com

  THINK Books is an imprint of NavPress. THINK is a registered trademark of NavPress. Absence of ® in connection with marks of NavPress or other parties does not indicate an absence of registration of those marks.

  ISBN 1-57683-536-7

  Cover design by studiogearbox.com

  Cover photo by Rubberball

  Creative Team: Nicci Jordan, Arvid Wallen, Erin Healy, Cara Iverson, Bob Bubnis

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in association with the literary agency of Sara A. Fortenberry.

  Carlson, Melody.

  Bitter rose : color me crushed / Melody Carlson.

  p. cm. -- (Truecolors series ; bk. 8)

  Summary: A Mexican-American high school senior deals with the

  separation and divorce of her parents and their effects on her

  relationship with them and with God.

  ISBN 1-57683-536-7

  [1. Divorce--Fiction. 2. Mexican Americans--Fiction. 3. Family

  life--Fiction. 4. Christian life--Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.C216637Bit 2006

  [Fic]--dc22

  2005021010

  Printed in Canada

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 / 10 09 08 07 06

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  NAVPRESS BOOKS & BIBLE STUDIES,

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  Other Books by Melody Carlson

  Blade Silver (NavPress)

  Fool’s Gold (NavPress)

  Burnt Orange (NavPress)

  Pitch Black (NavPress)

  Torch Red (NavPress)

  Deep Green (NavPress)

  Dark Blue (NavPress)

  DIARY OF A TEENAGE GIRL series (Multnomah)

  DEGREES OF GUILT series (Tyndale)

  Crystal Lies (WaterBrook)

  Finding Alice (WaterBrook)

  Looking for Cassandra Jane (Tyndale)

  Contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  reader’s guide

  TrueColors Book 9: Faded Denim

  about the author

  Discover A Unique New Kind Of Bible Study

  one

  LIFE AS I KNOW IT ENDED TODAY. SERIOUSLY, IT’S OVER. NOW, YOU MAY think I’m just being a drama queen, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of blowing something way out of proportion. But, trust me, this is the real deal. It’s over.

  “What’s wrong?” asks my best friend, Claire, when she finally returns my call like two hours later.

  “Everything,” I tell her. “My life is over.”

  “What are you talking about, Maggie?”

  “It’s my parents.”

  “Are they fighting again?” Her voice sounds bored now and slightly disconnected too, like maybe she’s filing her nails, or watching her favorite Home Shopping Network show, or reading her e-mail, or playing a stupid computer game.

  “Claire, this is serious.”

  “Oh, Maggie, your parents are constantly fighting. It’ll blow over in—”

  “No, it’s not a fight this time. It’s over! They are splitting up!”

  “Splitting up?” She actually sounds a little shocked. “Really?”

  Okay, maybe I’ve got her attention now. “Yes! Really! My mom just told me. Dad has left.”

  “No way!”

  “Way.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Last night, apparently. I mean, there I was, going to youth group and spending the night at your house just so they could have some one-on-one time together, as my mom puts it, and then I come home today to discover that it’s over. Dad’s gone.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not really sure. All Mom would tell me is that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.” I start choking up now. “I cannot believe my dad stepped out of my life just like that. I mean, he didn’t even have the courtesy to warn me or say good-bye.”

  “Oh, Maggie, that’s too bad. You were one of the few people I know who still had her original parents. Your mom and dad actually gave me hope that love might possibly last a lifetime.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “So where did your dad go anyway?”

  “According to my mom, he’s crashing with a friend for the time being. But she also said he’s going to get a place of his own before long.”

  “Did she say why, like what actually brought it to this? Besides all the fighting, I mean.”

  “No, she wouldn’t say anything specific, other than that he left—period. Consequently, we got into this humongous fight. Big surprise. I mean, it’s clearly all her fault, Claire. She’s driven him away with her constant nagging and complaining and arguing. Honestly, who could stand to live with that woman? I know I can’t! I just walked out on her myself. Maybe I’ll divorce her too.” Yeah, right.

  “So where are you now?”

  “I’m sitting in my car.”

  “Where?”

  “Outside the mall. I know that’s pretty lame, and it’s not like I want to go shopping, but I just didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Well, come over here. Nobody’s home but me anyway.”

  “Thanks, Claire.” We say good-bye and I immediately turn off my cell phone since I’m sure that Mom will try to call again. She already tried twice while I was waiting for Claire to call back. Fortunately, I have my caller ID and never even picked up. But she did leave a message—a really pathetic one if you ask me.

  “Hi, Magdela,” she said in this depressed and dreary sounding voice. “I’m so sorry we fought. We really need to talk about this. Please give me a call. I’m worried about you, mi hija.”

  Well, she should be worried. It’s because of her that my life is getting blown to pieces right now. And it’s my senior year too—my last year at home before college and the year when you really want the love and support of both your parents. My older brother and sister both got that much, but now they’re off living their own lives and probably totally oblivious to the fact that our family has completely disintegrated. Like, presto-change-o, poof! it’s gone. I wonder if my mom has even told them yet. And what about the grand- parents? Yeah, I can just imagine how they’re going to react.

  But here’s what really gets me: My parents, the respectable Roberto and Rosa Fernandez, are these born-again Catholic Christians, and they’re all into their “reformed” church and their home growth groups and Bible studies, and now this? I just don’t get it. And they’ve always told us kids that marriage is a “forever commitment”—that wedding vows are meant to be kept until “death do you part.” So what’s the deal here? Are they just total hypocrites or what? I have to admit that this disaster even makes me question my own faith. I mean, if this is where it gets you, crud, why bother?

  Finally, I’m at Claire’s house. She meets me at the door with a b
ig hug. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I mean, speaking from experience, I know you’ll survive it. You will get through this. But I know that it totally bites too.”

  “You got that right.”

  Claire’s parents got divorced when she was only ten. At the time, I was completely shocked and felt so sorry for her and her mom since her dad was pretty much being a jerk. But time passed, and Jeannie eventually remarried this really nice guy named Adam, and I guess I just sort of forgot about Claire’s original dad. I think she sort of forgot him too since he pretty much got out of her life. We never even talk about him anymore.

  But thinking of this as I follow her into the kitchen doesn’t make me feel a bit better. I’m so not ready to have my dad pull a disappearing act on me. The truth is, I really do love my dad—a lot. I mean, I realize he’s not perfect, but he’s actually pretty cool, for a parent anyway. And I’m a lot closer to him than to my mom. He’s the one who usually understands me. I really don’t want him to just vanish from my life like Claire’s dad did. Maybe it’s going to be up to me to hold on to him.

  “You know what?” I say as we dig our spoons into a half-full carton of cookie-dough ice cream. “I think maybe I’ll live with my dad when he gets his own place.”

  Her eyebrows lift slightly. “Uh, have you talked to him about this?”

  “Of course not. I haven’t even seen him since he left home last night. But I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. I mean, we’ve always gotten along a whole lot better than Mom and me. And lately, well, Mom’s been pretty witchy to both of us. She’s like this devil woman, always on everyone’s case. It’s like the tiniest things just set her off. You’ve seen her; she’s always grumping about something.”

  “Yeah, I remember how she came unglued when you forgot the laundry in the washing machine last week.”

  “Exactly. The woman is totally unreasonable.”

  “She might be hormonal,” suggests Claire with a thoughtful expression. “My mom just warned me that she’s starting to go through menopause now and that’s going to be worse than PMS.” She rolls her eyes. “What fun.”

  “But your mom’s older than mine,” I remind her as I scrape my spoon down the side of the carton, getting lots of chocolate this time.

  “Well, you never know, Maggie. This thing might blow over— you know, when your parents both come to their senses.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I mean, Mom seemed pretty certain that this is it—that it’s over.”

  Claire licks her spoon and then shakes her head. “I just never figured it would happen to them.”

  “I’ll bet you anything that it was my mom who told him to leave,” I say, waving my spoon around for effect. “I can just imagine her going ballistic on him. She probably pointed at the front door and told him to get out and never show his face there again. Maybe she even cussed him out in Spanish.”

  Claire kind of giggles. “Yeah, I guess I can imagine that too. I mean, I’ve seen your mom cut loose in Español a time or two. It’s pretty scary.”

  “Yeah, and then she freaks if she ever catches me doing the same thing.”

  “But your dad’s so sweet, Maggie. I don’t get it. Why would your mom want to throw him out like that?”

  “I don’t know.” I drop my spoon in the carton, blinking back tears. “Well, besides the fact that she’s crazy. But seriously, why did she have to go and ruin everything? Why is she so horrible and mean and selfish?” And now the tears are flooding down my cheeks again, and all I can think is that I hate my mom. She makes me sick! And I know I will never, never forgive her for this!

  two

  A WEEK HAS PASSED, AND ALTHOUGH I’VE LEFT HIM MESSAGES, I STILL haven’t seen or spoken to my dad. In fact, I’ve barely talked to my mom. We both just move silently through the house, making lots of space for each other. The last thing I want is to have an actual conversation with that woman. She tried it a couple of times, and I made it perfectly clear that I have absolutely no interest in speaking to her. I cannot stand her.

  It’s like she just doesn’t care, like she can simply block out the fact that she and Dad have been married for almost twenty-five years. My older sister and brother and I had even started talking about having a big anniversary party for them next April.

  “I can’t believe it,” Elisa said when she called a few days ago. “This is so weird.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Do you think it’s just a passing thing, something they can work out and resolve? Maybe get counseling at church or something?”

  I sighed loudly. “I don’t know. Mom acts like this is it—like there’s absolutely no hope.”

  “What about Dad?”

  “He won’t even return my calls.”

  “Yeah, same here. But that’s not like him.”

  “I think he’s really hurting, Elisa,” I told her. “I think she broke his heart.”

  “But why?” My usually calm and controlled older sister sounded seriously upset, like this was hitting her as hard as it was hitting me.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Do you think Mom’s into another guy?”

  I considered this. “I don’t know.”

  “What about that dude she told us about last summer? That new guy at work? What’s his name?”

  “Mickey?”

  “Yeah, I remember her talking about how great Mickey was. She thought he was so brilliant, so good-looking, so full of potential. Don’t you remember how she went on and on about him?”

  “I thought that was for your sake,” I said. “Like she wanted you to hook up with him. Isn’t he a little young for Mom?”

  “Maybe, but there could be someone else.”

  “Maybe.” But even as I said this, and even as furious as I was at Mom, I had a hard time imagining her getting interested in another guy. It just sounded all wrong.

  “You should pop in on her sometime, Maggie—you know, look around the real estate office and see if there’s someone who might’ve turned her head.”

  “Yeah, right,” I told her. “Like I’m going to go in and spy on her.”

  “Well, it’d be easier for you than me, clear down here in San Diego. Come on, Maggie. Just go look around, okay?”

  So I agreed, reluctantly. But I didn’t promise to do it right away.

  “What about Marc?” Elisa asked. “Has anyone told him yet?”

  “I don’t know. Mom might’ve. But she and I aren’t really talking much these days.”

  “Well, maybe you should give him a call, Maggie. Give him a heads-up.”

  “Why do I get stuck with all this?”

  “You’re the one at home. You have a better idea of what’s going on than we do. I already told you that my conversation with Mom was pretty much useless. She sounded like she was reading from a cue card, almost as if she was drugged or something. She’s not taking any meds, is she?”

  “I don’t know,” I said for like the umpteenth time. And that’s just how I feel—like I don’t know anything.

  “Well, check it out, Maggie. Find out what’s going on and get back to me. I hate being so far away at times like this, and Marc’s going to feel the same way. It’s up to you to keep us posted, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said without enthusiasm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  So later that night, I called my brother and actually caught him in his dorm room at the university. And I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that Marc’s take on this was totally different than ours—well, other than the initial shock. I think all three of us felt pretty much the same in that regard.

  But after Marc recovered from the bad news, he instantly set his sights on Dad. Of course, I know the reason behind this reaction. I mean, we all know that Marc is Mom’s favorite. Oh, she never says as much. No one really does. But Elisa and I both know it’s true. And I suppose it’s not that unusual in Hispanic households for mothers to be partial to sons—especially only sons. I think it goes back to the o
ld days and maintaining the family name and all that crud. Anyway, Marc is indisputably her favorite, and he knows it. It’s no surprise that he would defend her. Even so, I found it extremely irritating.

  “You know this has to be Dad’s fault,” Marc said as if he were an expert on marital problems.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “It’s usually the guy, Maggie. Statistics prove it.”

  “But Dad’s not the typical guy, Marc. For one thing, he’s a Christian. And he takes his faith seriously. He even went to that Promise Keepers convention last summer. So it’s not really fair to blame him just because he’s the guy. How would you like for someone to do that to you?”

  “I’m just telling you the statistics, Maggie. Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?”

  Naturally, that made me feel bad. I mean, between Elisa and Marc, I’ve probably always been closer to Marc, and I didn’t particularly want to take sides against him. But still …

  “And Dad’s a good-looking guy,” he told me as if that was a point against him.

  “Mom’s not exactly ugly,” I reminded him.

  “But she’s Mom,” he said in her defense. “Think about it, Maggie.”

  “But you haven’t seen her lately,” I said. “She’s been a real witch this fall. It’s like she’s been having some kind of hormonal meltdown or something. Seriously, she’s totally impossible. They were fighting all the time.”

  “That’s not all that new.”

  “And she was swearing at him in Spanish, Marc. Not just once either.”

  He was quiet for a few moments.

  “You can’t just automatically blame Dad, Marc—even if you are Mom’s favorite.”

  He didn’t even deny that. “Well, why don’t you find out what’s behind it then, Maggie? Talk to both of them. Get to the bottom of this.”

  I groaned.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Just ask some questions and see what’s up. And maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Maybe it’s just a midlife thing, you know, and maybe Dad will buy himself a new car and come home and that’ll be it.”

  “Yeah, maybe so.”

  “Do you think it might be patched up by Christmas?” he asked hopefully. “I thought maybe I’d bring Liz home to meet everyone.”