To protect what's mine (Amalie) novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75 Amalie

Dinner is earlier than it had been the last time we ate. Uncle Will was not back from the hospital yet. But it was still a nice family affair. Once we are done eating, we help clear the table and wash dishes. Mike wheels himself around the kitchen, putting leftovers away for Will when he gets home. Cal washes the dishes as Mark puts them away. Rose sits on the counter and talks as my twins work. I stand in front of Rose to make sure she does not fall off the counter and gets hurt. I offered to help, but I am shooed out of the way with smiles.

Once they are done, Cal, Mark, and Rose retreat to Rose’s room. Mark reads the story tonight. He pulls out a decent sized book, that will take some time to get through. Well, we do have a few hours before it is time that Rose needs to be asleep. He is very animated as he starts to read from the book. Mark changes his voice for each character and has his hands flying around him as he reads.

As Mark is reading, I make my way to my bathroom. I want a shower. I quickly peel off my clothes and step into the shower. My mind wanders as I go through the motions of showering. I think about the dinner we had just finished. This is what I always wanted in a family dinner. Even before I was locked up, I never really had a family dinner. Melissa got to hav family dinners with Marie and Thomas. I got enough to fill a plate and left on the kitchen counter. I was told to eat in the kitchen if they were eating at the table. 1

The few times I had been able to eat at the table, we had guests come over. Those meals were so awkward. Glares had been thrown my direction as I did not know how to properly sit at the table. I had spent my time standing at the counter to eat or sitting on the floor.

After a pack member commented on my lack of table manners, I had been sent to Grandma Rose’s house whenever someone came over. The first time I sat at the table with her, I was terrified I would make a mistake. I did not want to make my father’s mother mad at me for any reason.

The plates were heavy and made out of, what I now know is called porcelain. Grandma Rose said that they had been hand painted in Germany. I refused to eat off mine, just wanting to stare at the beautifully painted blue roses on the plates.

She had laughed and took the plate. Grandma Rose, filled my plate and then promised me that I could help with the dishes later. Once the dishes were done, she had let me look at the plate. She told me the story of how her grandfather had given the set to her grandmother on their fifth anniversary of their mating ceremony.

Every time I came over, Grandma Rose told me stories about her parents and her grandparents. And I loved every moment of those stories and spending time with her. When I was twelve, Grandma Rose had sat me down and told me that when I found my mate, she would give me the set of plates. Those porcelain plates would become mine along with all the stories she had ever told me. She had whispered to me that she wrote down everything that she could remember so that way I would be able to remember them.

But then she had died early April when I was fourteen. I was forced to remain in a home that never seemed to want me. I never let myself think about the porcelain plates that I was supposed to inherit from my grandmother. During the years, those plates seemed like a trivial thing. What was a set of blue rose dishes supposed to do to help me? Sure, I had a few fleeting thoughts about them. But for the most part, I pushed them from my mind.

I let out a growl. When I confront my parents, I will demand to know where the plates are. I don’t care if everyone else thinks that they are dumb plates. But to me, the are priceless. Even if my parents have thrown away the stories Grandma Rose wrote, just having those plates will mean the world to me. I want my plates. I want my grandmother still alive so she can meet my beautiful little Rose that I named after her. I want Rose, but not the

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