Suddenly a thought occurred to me, one that I would never have even dreamed of entertaining before. “Everything that you did to me and to the men that I care about; did you do them because you wanted the money? Or because you were trying to keep me alone and away from them?” I asked.
Naomi’s face froze as if she had taken a bite of something too cold that had shot up into her face.
“Both,” she answered.
“But you nearly killed Michael,” I said angrily. “You nearly killed all of three of them. And you nearly killed me, too.”
“I didn’t lay a hand on you,” she said, taken aback.
My voice swelled with anger. “Yes, that’s true. But your actions caused me to do something reckless and I nearly died in a car crash.”
She hissed at me. “That was because of your actions, and because of your foolish feelings of devotion to those men.” Then, her voice returned back to normal, as if she were spouting things off that everyone else on the planet knew but me. “I was trying to help you, trying to free you from the bondage that always ensues when you get involved with a boy. If you had listened to me and kept yourself away from men, then you would be stronger and happier. You would have power and freedom. Now what do you have, huh? A run-down building and three men fighting over who will get to crawl between your legs.”
I felt the heat start to flush my face. She knew nothing about my relationship with the guys, nor did she respect what I was trying to do here.
“Do you really think that you can keep this balance up for long?” she asked. “Do you think that these three men will fall at your heels without killing each other first?”
“I’ve already chosen who I will be with,” I said, not sure why I even felt the need to answer her.
“Yes, I heard. And how is that going for you?” she asked with raised brows and a sarcastic grin.
“They’ll come around,” I said. I didn’t even know what that meant. There wasn’t really any idea to “come around” to. The four of us would stay together, until we didn’t. And when that day came, Michael and I would remain.
“No they won’t,” she said.
“How do you know?” I yelled. Fatigue had finally won out over my patience as I lost my temper. “You don’t know anything about it, or about us.”
“They’re all the same,” she said. “Boys can never be trusted—ever.”
After several solid weeks of working on The Sanctuary, the place was actually looking pretty fantastic. Each bedroom had been done up with its own cool theme, all designed to promote a sense of peace and safety. The bathrooms were fully stocked with toiletries of every kind imaginable, and the kitchen was fully stocked with food and drink. The common area was fully furnished now and there was plenty of room for people to both congregate and to stow away in a little corner nook to read.
There had been some tension between the three boys and myself, but overall, we had all been staying together and getting along pretty well. Since we hadn’t really had any alone time, Michael and I still hadn’t been able to physically have each other, and it was starting to wear on us both. I could barely stand next to him without wanting to touch him in all the places that made the inside of my thighs hot. If it went on too much longer, I was actually starting to worry about randomly grabbing him in public, out of the sheer need that was clawing at my insides.
I had been trying to be kind, patient, and forgiving with Naomi because after I had heard her tell me about the childhood she and my mother endured, and about her misguided reasoning and methods for trying to set me on a strong, albeit savage, path, I really started to see that a lot of this wasn’t her fault at all. She had been a victim ever since she was a small girl and it had caused her to be legitimately mentally unwell.
But Naomi actually seemed to be surprisingly content here at The Sanctuary. She had slowed her pursuit of the inheritance money, which was almost all but used up now anyway. I spared no expense for anything inside the group home and also put some of the money into investments that would feed back into The Sanctuary and hopefully propagate it for years to come.
Naomi didn’t even seem to think about the money anymore.
She seemed to love her new home and the constant attention of the people around her. She was happy when I gave her some leadership decisions to make, even when they were ridiculously small decisions like what color to paint the bathroom walls. But when she came back with an answer like “lavender” and then saw that I actually had it done the way that she asked for, she and I started to build a bit of a mutual understanding. I was helping her, and in return she was helping me fulfill my mother’s dying wish. She had gone from wanting to steal the fortune, to becoming a supporting member of its success.
We had decided to do a soft grand opening of the facility, a party to introduce The Sanctuary to the community and open our doors that very night to welcome anyone that needed or wanted to come there. So far, there were only two bedrooms in the building being occupied; Naomi’s room, and the bedroom that all the guys and I stayed in together. There were still twelve other bedrooms that could be filled, all ready to go with soft, clean linens on the beds and bottles of water and a hot tea machine on the dressers. It was like a mashup between a hotel and a mental hospital. Except that description was way too rudimentary. This was something special. Here, in this place, people could quietly heal themselves at their own pace, and maybe even help those around them. I had hired a few staff members, although I wanted to be very hands on, so I kept the staff to a minimum. The party was going to be a fun and relaxed event, more like a hipper version of an open house.
When people started to arrive, there were lots of whispers and impressed looks, which seemed to indicate approval by the community at large. Guests wandered all around the building freely, with the exception of the two locked bedrooms. By the time the evening was winding down, I had already received a few inquiries about how to apply to live here, mostly for people that the guests knew and wanted to help. There was even one young woman, that was one of the guests, that came up to me at the end of the night and asked if she could be the first official resident (aside from Naomi of course). I wasn’t quite sure why she would want to come live here though.
She seemed like she had her act completely together, and from the looks of what she was wearing, she wasn’t down on her luck by any means.
“You want to live here yourself?” I asked her as the guys were busy cleaning up and she stayed behind to talk with me.
“Yes,” she said.
“When were you thinking about moving in?”
“Tonight, if I can.”
“Forgive me for asking,” I said. “But you don’t seem like you’re the kind of person that would need to stay at a place like this.”
“Isn’t the whole point of this place not to judge the level of help that someone needs? That’s kind of what your whole mission statement that you talked about tonight was, right? Not everyone wears their mental health diagnosis on their sleeve.”
“You’re right,” I said, feeling awful about being so insensitive and ignorant. “You are more than welcome to stay here. Want me to give you the paperwork to fill out?”
“Sure,” she said.
I left the woman in the common room and went to go fetch the application packet. I hadn’t really expected anyone to take us up on our offer quite so soon, but this was the reason we had the party to begin with. I wanted everyone to know that we were here and ready to welcome guests, and to help provide a sanctuary too. When I returned to the room with the application, I flagged one of the staff members to come help her complete the process. I had hired a couple of people to be on site for extended hours, although they didn’t live in the building.
At some point, it might be necessary for me to hire live-in staff so that I didn’t need to be around all the time.
Once she had finished her paperwork, the staff worker walked with her to help her choose a room and handed me the application as they walked by. I opened the folder and looked at her neatly printed handwriting which said “Sarah” on the top of the page.
“Hey,” Michael said as he walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I turned my face to the side to nuzzle his. “That went pretty well, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think so. We’ve already got our first resident.”
“I don’t think Naomi counts,” he laughed. “She was kind of a package deal.”
I waved the folder over my shoulder for him to see. “This woman just applied to stay here. Her name is Sarah.”
