Once inside her room, Ronnie flipped the switch on her computer and sulked over to her bed. She looked around the room, realizing as if for the first time how quiet and empty it was. The thick carpets and solid wood floors kept the sounds from below from filtering up to her. "This is stupid," she scowled, returning to her computer desk and sitting down. "I have work to do."
But the folder she clicked on wasn't a work folder, it was to her solitaire game. That was followed by reviewing her appointment book and noting that Christmas was only seventeen days away. Well, it wouldn't hurt anything if she looked around the Internet for a while. The Macy's site gave her no ideas for a gift to get for her mother, although she saw several items that she thought Rose would like. By quarter of twelve, Ronnie still had no present for the members of her family. "The gift that always fits," she decided, clicking on the gift certificate form. That problem solved, she shut the computer off and trotted downstairs to have lunch with Rose and watch Judge Judy together.
When Ronnie entered Rose's room, she was pleased to see that Karen was finishing up. "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't forget to do those exercises I showed you. You have to keep those muscles active as much as possible or it will only slow your recovery."
"I will, thank you," the young woman replied.
"Fine." The nurse turned her attention to Ronnie, correctly assuming that she was the one in charge. "I'll be back tomorrow around nine."
Lunch was a simple fare of soup and sandwiches, eaten while listening to the feisty judge reprimand someone for thinking that she would believe they had repaid a loan but just couldn't find their receipt. By the time the credits rolled, both women were looking at empty plates. "Maria can make anything taste good."
"Oh, she's a wonderful cook," Rose agreed. "Has she always worked for you and your family?"
"As long as I can remember. Her mother worked for us too, but she retired shortly after I was born. Maria's been everything from housekeeper to baby-sitter to referee ever since." The high pitched chirp of the phone interrupted her. "Probably another telemarketer," she grumbled.
"Aren't you going to answer it?"
"No. Maria screens my calls for me." As if on cue, Maria knocked on the door. "Okay," Ronnie called while reaching for the phone. "This is Veronica Cartwright."
"Um…yes, Miss Cartwright, this is Jonathan Barker from First Albany Savings and Trust. How are you today?" Recognizing the name of the bank's vice-president, Ronnie's posture stiffened and she pushed her chair over to the desk.
"Yes, Mister Barker. What can I do for you today?"
"Well…I don't mean to bother you at home but I felt this matter required your immediate attention." She didn't miss the touch of nervousness in his voice. "Mister Cartwright hasn't returned any of my calls and I'm afraid at this point I have to seek recourse somewhere else."
Ronnie rolled her eyes and picked up her pencil, lightly tapping it on the desk. "What's this about?"
"Well…as you know when a loan is defaulted, we are obligated to go to the guarantor in order to recover our losses and since you are the cosigner on Thomas' personal loan…."
"I cosigned a loan?" The pencil stopped moving. "When was this?"
"Oh, I um…" She heard papers shuffling about on Barker's desk. "Yes, here it is. I have your signature dated April fifth as a cosigner for Thomas' personal loan." A touch of nervousness crept into his voice. "You did cosign a personal loan for him, didn't you, Miss Cartwright?"
The pencil began tapping rapidly. "I guess I must have forgotten about that, Mister Barker."
"Well, I'm sure it was just a simple oversight on Mister Cartwright's part but I'm afraid that we haven't received payment in over five months. I really can't let this go on much longer."
"No, of course not." The pencil moved with more force. "You can transfer the overdue amount from my personal savings account."
"Well, I appreciate that, Miss Cartwright but I'm afraid at this point the loan is considered to be in default and we have to ask for full repayment."
"Fine. You can take whatever is owed from my account." She nestled the phone between her ear and shoulder, freeing up her hand to grab a piece of paper. "Can you please tell me the exact repayment amount so I can mark my records?"
The pencil dropped to the desk and clattered onto the floor. "What?"
"I said the total with interest and late fees comes to seventeen thousand six hundred forty-two dollars and twenty three cents. I'll have that withdrawn from your account immediately."
"Mister Barker?"
"Yes?"
"Make certain in the future that you check with me personally before approving any more loans for any member of my family."
"Certainly, Miss Cartwright."
There was a pause before Ronnie realized that he had said something else. "Excuse me, I'm afraid I didn't hear you."
"I asked if there was anything the bank could do for you today." the banker repeated.
"No, I think you've done enough, thank you."
"Have a good day, Miss Cartwright," he said, but she had already hung up.
From her seat only a few feet away, Rose heard every word of the executive's side of the conversation. It wasn't hard to piece together what happened. "Ronnie?" All she got was a view of the back of the brown leather chair and the furious clacking of the keyboard. "Ronnie?"
"Do you need something, Rose?" Her tone was much harsher than she intended. The typing stopped. "You know there are times when I wish I wasn't the oldest," she sighed, turning her chair around to face the young woman.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ronnie's first reaction was to say no, that family problems are always settled privately, but then she looked up into soft green eyes and realized that she did want to talk about it, she did want to share her frustrations and feelings with Rose. "Tommy took out a personal loan and forged my name on it as cosigner."
"Oh, that's terrible," the young woman gasped. "But why did you pay it?"
"Oh because that's what I'm expected to do," she sighed. "If I didn't, Susan or Mother would have."
"But you're only making it easier for him to do it again."
"I know, but I didn't have a choice." She pushed her chair closer to the bed. "Even though I'm considered the head of the family now, there are still some things that I have to do whether I like them or not."
"It's a lot of pressure sometimes, isn't it?" Rose reached out and placed a gentle hand on the older woman's forearm. "It must be very stressful to have to keep everything inside."
Ronnie looked up in surprise. "Yeah." It was the first time that anyone had ever expressed any understanding of her feelings when it came to being the family caretaker. "Tommy just soaked me for almost eighteen grand."
"Oh my god! Eighteen thousand dollars?"
"It's not even the money that bothers me," Ronnie continued, deliberately not focusing on the fact that the amount meant completely different things to each of them. To her, it was a fraction of her savings and wouldn't really be missed. To Rose, well…she didn't even want to think what it meant to the young woman who spent less than twenty bucks a week on groceries.
"It's the fact that he used you," the honey haired woman guessed.
"He forged my signature on a bank loan. I can't imagine why he would need a cosigner for that small amount anyway but I don't manage his finances. I just can't believe he had the balls to do that and then to not bother to repay it." As she spoke, Ronnie's voice betrayed more of her anger and outrage. "He knew that I'd take care of it. He knew the bank would never question my signature on a loan for him."
"He used you."
"He used me." She looked at her desk and still unsolved problems that waited for her there. The enormity of the problem made her take a deep breath. "I'm going to have to call for an audit of the Real Estate division."
"Do you think he's embezzling?"
"If you asked me that yesterday, I would have said that I wasn't sure." She leaned over and picked up the manila folder. "Today? Now I know he's embezzling, I just can't prove it." She let the folder fall back on the desk with a thwap. Her body was a bundle of nervous energy and she needed to release it. "Rose, I need to go downstairs and work out for a while. Do you think you'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine," the young woman assured her. "I know you have things to do. You don't have to keep me company all the time."
'Ah, but Rose,' she thought to herself. 'I like keeping you company.' She stood up and pushed her chair back over to the desk. "I'll be back in about a half-hour or so. If you're up to it we can go out in the living room and watch some more movies."
"That'd be nice."
'Yes it would,' the raven haired woman thought.
A grueling workout did nothing to improve Ronnie's mood, which only seemed to worsen the longer she thought about her brother and what he had done. The punching bag suffered an onslaught of blows, accented by a string of curses that would make even the most raucous sailor blush. Only when she was thoroughly exhausted did she remove the boxing gloves and head for the small refrigerator to get something to drink. As she removed the last bottle of Gatorade, Ronnie noticed the clock on the wall. It was after three, well past the half hour that she had planned on being. "Dammit."
The door opened to the office fifteen minutes later with a freshly showered Ronnie holding a videotape. "Sorry, guess I got caught up in what I was doing. We still on for the movie?"
"Oh, yes of course," Rose smiled. She had heard the muffled sounds of Ronnie working out, or raging, depending on how one looked at it, and seriously doubted that the executive would be up to spending time with her.
As it had been yesterday, Ronnie used her brute strength to carry the wheelchair and its occupant past the steps of the sunken living room and helped Rose onto the couch. "I thought a romantic comedy would be nice…unless you prefer something else?"
"No, I'm sure whatever you've picked will be fine," the young woman replied enthusiastically. And it was the truth. Rose would have been happy to watch a test pattern if that was what Ronnie wanted. The initial awkwardness was quickly fading, replaced with a sense of friendship and caring for the woman who befriended her. She was surprised when the executive didn't lower the snack tray that had served as a barrier between them before and even more astonished when Ronnie sat down on the middle cushion, only scant inches away from her. "Don't you want your footrest?"
"Naw, I feel like sitting up for a while," she replied, tucking her feet underneath her Indian-style. "You comfortable?"
"Very."
"Good." She pressed the play button on the remote and fast forwarded through the trailers until she saw the Feature Presentation logo. "Here we go."
The opening scene was almost over when Rose's nose picked up a most delicious scent. "Popcorn?" As if on cue, Maria appeared from the kitchen with a large bowl of the treat in hand as well as several napkins.
"If you don't need anything else, I do need to be going," Maria said as she handed the bowl to Ronnie. "Dinners are in the refrigerator, microwave on medium for three minutes to heat them up."
"I think we're all set, Maria. Drive carefully."
"I'm only going home, Ronnie. You'd think I lived ten miles away," the older woman said. "I could walk if it weren't so darn cold outside."
"I know but I'm still allowed to worry about you. After all, who'd do all the cooking and cleaning if you weren't around?" The twinkling in her blue eyes was the only sign that the raven haired woman was joking.
"Ronnie!" Rose yelped. Maria chuckled.
"Keep it up, Veronica Louise, and you'll find out." She turned to Rose. "You keep an eye on her."
"I will," the young woman promised with a smile.
Once Maria left, Ronnie backed the tape up to the beginning and the two women settled in to watch Richard Dreyfuss try to win Marsha Mason's heart. The popcorn bowl rested between them and both women were busily stuffing the buttered snack into their mouths. As it was bound to happen, the large and small hands reached in at the same time and the greased fingers intertwined. "Oops," came the simultaneous apology as their digits were disengaged from one another.
"Good popcorn," Rose said as she reached back in, this time making sure to stay on her own side of the bowl.
"Yeah, really good."
As the movie wore on and the popcorn supply dwindled, their hands continued to brush against each other in pursuit of the tasty kernels. After the fourth or fifth time, both gave up on apologizing and just let it happen without comment. Rose still did her best to avoid touching Ronnie's hand, but it seemed to always be on her side of the bowl. When only the tiniest pieces were left along with unpopped kernels, the older woman moved the bowl over to the unoccupied cushion. "You want something to drink?"
"Sure, thanks."
"What do you want?"
"Anything would be fine. Water is good."
"Uh huh." Ronnie rose gracefully from the couch and wandered out to the kitchen, returning a minute later with soda for each of them.
"Thanks," Rose said, taking the glass. "Do you want to back it up so you can see what you missed?"
"Naw, I've seen this one several times." She sat back down and tucked her legs underneath herself. "I'm a sucker for a good romance story."
Tabitha wandered out to see what was going on. "Mrrow?"
"No, we're up here right now. You go play," Ronnie said. Apparently the orange and white cat thought she said 'come on up' because she did exactly that, crossing over the executive's lap and settling down between the two women.
"Do you want her down?" Rose put her hand under the feline's stomach, ready to shoo her.
Ronnie looked at the purring cat. Two weeks ago she never would have let an animal take control of her house. "I guess she's not hurting anything." The truth was that it made the executive smile inside to see Rose happy and obviously being around Tabitha did that. She reached out and let her long fingers join the smaller ones in petting the happily purring feline.
Tuesday brought with it the realization that the matters at Cartwright Corporation couldn't be ignored any longer. Ronnie bid goodbye to the still sleeping Rose and headed for the Jeep.
The morning disc jockeys were busy making fun of recent political activities, leaving the black haired woman with no choice but to pop a CD in. She guided the bright blue Jeep through the never-ending series of traffic lights and one-way streets until she reached the Hudson Avenue parking garage. She drove up ramp after ramp until she reached the row of spaces reserved for Cartwright executives. Ronnie pulled into the spot reserved for her and shut the engine off. She took a few minutes to put her head in the work mode after being in the caretaker mode for so many days. Feeling herself ready to face whatever awaited her, Veronica Cartwright stepped out of her vehicle and headed for the elevator.
The worst part about having the corporate offices on the top floors of a large high-rise in downtown Albany was that she had to share the elevator with everyone who worked on the lower floors. Ronnie found herself squashed into the corner as more and more people convinced themselves that they could fit into the small transport. She clutched her attaché tightly against her body and waited an interminable amount of time for the elevator doors to finally close and begin the slow ride upward. The multitude of cologne and perfumes assaulted her senses, lingering behind after their owners departed on their assigned floors. When the elevator finally reached the twenty-eighth floor, a grateful Ronnie stepped out to face the double glass doors that led to the Cartwright corporate offices.
"Morning, Laura. Anything important I need to know about?" Veronica asked, pulling the pile of pink phone messages out of their slot. More than half found themselves crumpled up and tossed into the blue recycle can next to the young secretary's desk.
"The reports are on your desk." The brown haired petite woman glanced over the schedule book. "You have a meeting at ten with the investors from Houston and your sister has left word for you to call her as soon as you arrive." She took her boss' coat and crossed the room to hang it up in the closet. "She says it's important."
"It's always important to Susan." Veronica replied, unimpressed. reaching for the handle to her office. "Call my house and get Maria on the phone for me."
Once inside the privacy of her corner office, Ronnie set her pumps under the desk and padded around in her stockinged feet, fetching a fresh cup of coffee from the private pot kept in her office. A few minutes later she was sitting at her desk, the computer humming to life. A polite buzz and the flashing light on her phone told her that Laura's task was accomplished. She picked up the black receiver and pressed the button for line two. "Maria."
"Is something wrong?" the housekeeper asked. It was rare for Ronnie to call home.
"I just wanted to see how things were going with our guest."
"Rose is still sleeping. Do you want me to wake her up?"
"No." She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Listen, when she wakes up, give her my office number and have her give me a call, okay?" The sound of the door to her office opening brought Ronnie's head up. Susan stood there, her body language indicating that something was life-or-death. "I've got to go. Have her call me." She set the receiver down. "What?"
"You know that 'new hire' of yours? Rose Grayson?"
"Yeah? What about her?"
"She's never shown up for work. The termination papers just hit my desk."
"Termination papers? Who authorized that?"
"Grace did. Accounting is her department. She said she had never heard of this woman and that she never showed up for work."
Ronnie picked up the phone and pressed in the digits for Laura's phone. "Get Grace on the phone." She turned her attention back to her sister. "Anything involving Rose comes to my desk immediately. You are to do nothing involving her without my consent."
"Ronnie, what's going on? You hire someone for entry level, give them full benefits immediately and they never even show up to work?"
"Don't worry about it, Susan. I'll handle it."
"Grace on line three," Laura's voice cracked through the intercom. The dark haired executive picked up the receiver.
"Grace, there's a problem with a new hire, Rose Grayson?"
"Yeah, like she never showed up for work." the cousin replied.
"Don't worry about it. She's on extended medical leave. Just process her paperwork every week. Under no circumstances are you to terminate her."
"What? Ronnie, she never showed up. I've never even met this Grayson woman. All I have is a few forms faxed over from Susan last week."
"I know all about it." There was a pause and she thought that her cousin was going to argue with her some more about it. "Grace, there's no discussion on this."
"Fine. You're the boss." There was click followed by the dial tone. Ronnie hung the phone up and glanced at the computer screen. "Is there anything else, Sis?"
"Of course there is." Susan replied, moving around the desk until she was standing next to her older sister. "Ronnie, come on, what's going on?"
"Nothing you need to worry about. I'm sure you have more important things to do than to worry about one little employee."
"One little employee that you mysteriously hired." The redhead leaned casually against the mahogany desk. "Ronnie, you have never directly hired anyone for a position except Laura." A thought occurred to her. "This isn't like when you were at Stanford, is it?"
The mention of her great personal failure brought the executive's attention away from the computer. "Susan, can't you let anything die? That was ten years ago!" There was no mistaking her angry tone.
"Hey, you should have known better than to trust some poor white trash."
"Christine wasn't poor white trash. She was there on an academic scholarship."
"And what subject were you two studying at night in your room?" Susan jibed. "You weren't there when Dad answered the phone the night she called. You didn't hear the things she told him. The way she threatened to make it public knowledge."
"Drop it, Susan," she warned with a low growl. "I could have handled it."
"How? Would you have preferred that everyone knew that the heir apparent to Cartwright Corporation was queer?" She flinched at the blazing look in Ronnie's eyes. "Look, you're my sister and I love you. I can understand that you made a mistake. You were young, you didn't know better. I just don't want you to have to suffer through that again."
"That's not what's going on." Ronnie picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desk.
"You promised Dad that it wouldn't happen again."
"And it hasn't!" The pencil was tossed angrily , causing it to bounce off the desk and onto the floor. Ronnie stood up and looked out the window at the Albany skyline, seething inside at the reminder of her great humiliation. The vision of the blue eyed blond that once filled her with happiness only to turn around and turn into a blood-sucking blackmailer flashed before the raven haired woman's eyes. "I've never…I mean…since…." She gave up and continued to stare out the window.
"Ronnie…" Susan stood next to her taller sibling and put her hand on the forearm. "I felt so bad for you when Mom and Dad went to pick you up at the airport that night." The call from Christine demanding money in exchange for keeping quiet about her affair came less than two hours before Ronnie arrived at the Albany County Airport to spend the Christmas break at home with the family. "That was the worst holiday I can remember. All the yelling and screaming."
It had been a subject that the two sisters never spoke of, not even at the time. Ronnie had never known Susan's true feelings on the matter of either her sexuality or the whole blackmail incident. Without turning around, the older woman spoke. "I had been looking forward to coming home. I missed Thanksgiving and after Chris and I broke up…." She shook her head. "Was what I did so horribly wrong?"
"Trusting her or having sex with a woman?" Susan queried, turning and leaning her rear against the ledge of the window.
Ronnie shrugged. "Either…both…ah, never mind." She turned from the window and sat in her chair. "We both have work to do."
"No, it's okay." The redhead said, pulling a chair around to sit on the same side of the desk as her sister. "Look, what I said earlier about being queer, I didn't mean-"
"Forget it."
"No. It's your life, I have no right to judge you. Lord knows I've done things that I'm ashamed of."
"No judgment in that statement, is there?" Ronnie said sarcastically, turning her chair slightly and pulling out the keyboard tray. "I guess it's okay to have an affair with your personal trainer but not with someone of the same sex, right?"
"I didn't think you knew about André," Susan said hesitantly, wondering just how much her older sister knew.
"Not much escapes me." She tapped her password in, changing the screen from the corporate logo to her personal desktop. "Look, I've learned my lesson, okay? I don't hang out in the gay bars, cruise the softball fields, or have a parade of women going in and out of my bed."
"You're also thirty three and not married. Ronnie, this is a business. We have to maintain a certain image."
"And I do!" She rose and began pacing. "I always attend all the charitable functions with the good looking male escort. I've done nothing to upset the family's precious *image*."
"What is it about a woman?" Susan stood to face her sister. "What is it? Really, help me understand this, Sis. We grew up together. What happened?"
"Susan, we're at work. Let's drop this, okay?"
"Fine. The mysterious Rose Grayson stays on the payroll and insurance because you say so." The redhead was obviously miffed at the brusque tone. "Are there any other problems you're interested in or is she it?"
"I'm President, aren't I?" Ronnie scowled. "The whole Grayson thing isn't a big deal, Susan. You don't have to worry about seeing me leading the next gay pride parade either. Now can we talk about something else?" She stalked over to her desk and sat down. "Did you cosign any loans for Tommy?"
"Why would Tommy need a cosigner? He's got plenty of money. He doesn't even own a home except for that cabin in the Adirondacks."
"He defaulted on a loan that had my name forged on it as a cosigner."
"It must be some kind of mistake."
"No mistake. I'm going to have copies of the application sent over to me so I can compare it to my signature."
"Maybe someone forged Tommy's name too."
"Yeah, maybe. I'll find out after I get the papers. In the meantime I suggest you take a look at your bank records." She reached for the mouse and clicked open her link to the bank. "Oh, one more thing. I'm ordering an audit of Real Estate."
"What? You're auditing Tommy's books?" Susan all but shrieked. "Do you know how that will look to him?"
"Like I don't trust him. I don't." A quick typing of her account number and password and Ronnie was glancing at her recent transactions. The debit card that looked just like a Visa Platinum card was handy. All purchases were posted to her checking account within two days, making it easy for her to verify that her card wasn't compromised. She looked over the list, noting the familiar items like Tabitha's toys and Rose's bed. "You said yourself that you think something's wrong. Do you want me to find out what it is now or do you want to wait until it blows up in the press? I thought you were worried about our *image*?"
Susan bristled at the comment but reluctantly conceded that her sister was right. Trust was a big deal with the public image. They remembered names and if they didn't the nightly news would be more than happy to remind them. It was how scandals lasted so long in Albany. Thus far the Cartwrights had been lucky enough not to be involved publicly in any, no matter what it cost them privately. "All right," the younger sibling sighed. "I can't see where it would hurt anything if he's innocent." She headed for the door. "Ronnie?"
"What?"
"If he is, you had better give him an apology. And you'd better make sure Mother doesn't find out about it." The intercom buzzed followed quickly by Laura's voice.
"Rose on line one for you."
Ronnie looked up to see her sister's eyes light up at the name. "Is this the mysterious Rose Grayson?"
"Goodbye Susan." She picked up the receiver and pressed the button. "Hi…" There was no mistaking the change in Ronnie's voice. It became softer…gentler. There was a tenderness in it that was in direct contrast to her earlier tone. "Can you hang on for a minute?"
"I'm going, I'm going. But this isn't the end of this conversation."
"Susan!" she looked pointedly at the door. The redhead left, determined more than ever to solve the puzzle of her sister and Rose Grayson.
"Hi, sorry about that. Did you sleep well?" Ronnie said, settling down in her chair and resting her stockinged calves on the desk.
"Very well. Maria said you wanted me to call."
"Yeah…um…I guess I just wanted to know that if you needed anything to let Maria know. She's going to stay there until I get home. She'll make you anything you want for breakfast, just ask her. Oh, and if there's anything you want her to pick up at the supermarket, just let her know that too."
"I'm fine, but thanks. How's work going?"
"Oh, just a typical day," Ronnie replied sarcastically. "It's a wonder I don't have an ulcer sometimes."
"I wish there was something I could do to make it better for you," Rose said sincerely.
You already do, the dark haired woman thought to herself. "I'm fine. Tell you what. You up for seafood tonight?"
"Sounds great."
"Good. I'll have Maria whip us up something nice." The light on line two began flashing. "I think I'd better get back to work, I just wanted to check up on you."
"Okay, I'm glad you did."
"Um…you know if you want to you can call later."
"Oh. Okay, well maybe after lunch? I don't want to bother you."
"Sure. After lunch would be fine. I don't think I'm going to stay all day anyway."
"All right…well…I guess I'll talk to you later then?"
"Okay Rose. You relax and do what the nurse tells you."
"Bye."
"Bye." Ronnie listened to the click and then the dial tone for a few seconds before pressing line two. "This is Veronica Cartwright." Her voice was once again like that which Susan had heard only minutes before, pure business.
It was well past six when Ronnie finally shut the computer off and left her office. There had been no sign of Tommy all day and he refused to answer his beeper. Left with no choice, the head of Cartwright Corporation ordered a full audit of the Real Estate division to begin immediately. By the end of the day all the hard copies of records and disk backups of the computer records were boxed and shipped to the independent auditor.
Ronnie was surprised to see the kitchen light on when she returned home until she remembered that she had asked Maria to stay until she got there. She and Rose had spoken briefly in the early afternoon but a meeting had cut that phone call short. Now finally home, she was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with the honey haired woman. She hung her coat up in the closet and kicked her shoes off before walking into the office.
"Hi!" Rose greeted enthusiastically, a huge smile coming over her face.
"Hi yourself." She turned her attention to Maria, who was picking up the cards that she and the young woman had been playing. "Thanks for staying so late."
"I didn't mind a bit. She's better at rummy than you are," the housekeeper remarked, drawing a smile from Rose. "I can stay late tomorrow too if you need it."
Ronnie's first response was to say that it wouldn't be necessary but upon reflection of what had transpired today at the office and what was going to happen once Tommy found out about the audit, she reconsidered her answer. "Actually, I think I may have to take you up on that. Perhaps you could come in later so you don't have to work so long. I can make my own breakfast."
"Make your own breakfast and dirty every piece of cookware in my kitchen," Maria snorted. "I'll be here at seven like I always am. The only night I can't stay late is Thursday. Carrie and Monica will worry if they don't see me there by six thirty."
"Bingo night," Ronnie explained to her houseguest. "Well, since you're here now anyway, why don't you stay and join us for dinner? I'm sure you made more than enough."
The older woman chuckled. "You know your mother would have a fit if she found out."
"Why? Doesn't her mother like you?" Rose asked, her curious expression turning to a self-conscious frown when Maria gave a short laugh and shook her head.
"Mrs. Cartwright likes me just fine, child. But it's considered bad form to share a meal with the hired help."
"Oh," the young woman murmured, embarrassment tinting her face. She wondered if her friend's mother would disapprove of her as well.
"But my mother doesn't decide who I dine with," Ronnie said firmly. "Now do you think you'd like to eat in the dining room or in here?"
"Um…wherever you want is fine."
"I'll set some places at the table. It will take only a few minutes to heat everything up," Maria said, excusing herself from the room.
"Thanks," Ronnie said as the older woman brushed past her. Now alone with Rose, the persona that she had kept in place all day long faded. Her shoulders slumped, her stockinged feet protested being stood on, and the headache that she had been fighting made its presence known with full force. She crossed the room and all but flopped into her leather chair. "What a day." She lifted her left leg up, bracing it over her right knee, and began rubbing her aching foot.
"Did you confront Tommy?"
"No, he never showed up," Ronnie sighed. "I ordered an audit."
"Oh."
"Yeah, it's not going to be a pretty sight when he finds out." She began rubbing her foot with more force, using both hands to knead the sore muscles. "On top of that I had a mountain of paperwork to get through. Laura took off halfway through the day."
"Laura?"
"My secretary," she clarified.
"Oh, she must have been the one that answered the phone when I called."
"Yeah, that's her." Ronnie reversed the position of her legs and began massaging her right foot. "Oh great," she scowled, looking at the rapidly growing run moving up her leg. "You know, someone should be able to figure out a way to make pantyhose so they don't run the instant you put them on." She stood up, smoothing the dark grey skirt.. "I'm going to run up and change. By then I'm sure dinner will be ready." Her eyes fell on the stringy strands of hair surrounding Rose's face. "After dinner I think we'll wash your hair."
"How are we going to do that? I can't take a shower."
"I've got an idea."
After changing into her sweats and sneakers, Ronnie grabbed a set of keys and headed across the snow covered driveway to the garage. The original garage had been torn down three years ago to make room for her idea of what a true one should be. Capable of holding four cars comfortably, the garage sported multiple rows of fluorescent lights and a separate alarm system. The back half of the garage served as a storage place. Entering through the door on the side, Ronnie quickly walked over to the control panel and deactivated the alarm. A quick flip of the switch and the four bays were bathed in a sea of white light. The first bay housed a car hidden by a canvas cover. Distracted for a moment, Ronnie walked to the back of the car and pulled back the cover. The white vanity plate sported the Statue of Liberty on the left side and blue letters announcing the car as "Rons Toy". She pulled the cover back more to reveal the gas cap with the familiar mustang logo. "Soon," she promised herself. Her prized muscle car had been painstakingly restored and the harsh salt of Albany winters meant that it had to stay in hibernation until the flowers started to bloom again. Her fingers trailed over the deep blue metallic paint and her mind drifted back to when she had first bought the car.
It was her senior year at Dartmouth. While she liked the Audi that her father had given her for her twenty-first birthday, she found herself always looking at the weathered Mustang that one of her sorority sister's boyfriend owned. The paint had been chipped away, surface rust was the dominant color, but when the pedal was put to the floor, the car could blow the doors off anything put up against it. When Ronnie had asked her father for permission to withdraw enough money to buy one for herself, Richard Cartwright adamantly refused, citing that she had a perfectly good car and that Ford was far too dangerous a vehicle. Ronnie was undaunted, however, and saved her allowance for the entire semester until she could afford to buy it on her own. She drove it home on spring break, much to the dismay of her parents. Her father called it a pile of junk and her mother insisted that she would only get herself killed in that 'death trap'. They tried offers of a new Mustang, threats of financial cut-off, even the old 'ladies of proper upbringing don't drive muscle cars', but none of it worked. By the end of the week all they had accomplished was to make Ronnie even more determined to keep and restore her blue speed demon. Although it was no longer her primary car, she still took it out for a spin occasionally and the metallic blue beauty was still her favorite.
A slight chill went through her, pulling Ronnie from memory lane and back to the present. She replaced the cover over her Mustang and walked into the next bay. The fire engine red Porsche sat there. It was the first time she had seen it since the accident. The fourth bay was where she kept the Jeep and thus far she had made it a point not to go near the 911. Now she slowly walked around the car, blue eyes taking in all the repairs. Green tape surrounded the edges of the new windshield, no doubt to allow the new rubber sealant to set in. The hood, grill, bumper, and front right quarter panel were all gone, the dull grey metal chassis standing out in stark contrast to the rest of the vehicle. A rolling toolbox sat against the wall, further evidence of Hans' visits. Ronnie turned away from the car and leaned her hands against the toolbox while she fought to keep her stomach in check. She knew right then that she would never be able to drive the Porsche again. She bit down the resurgence of guilt and took deliberate steps toward the storage room door, all the while telling herself that everything would work out, that Rose would completely recover, that the damage she had caused could be repaired. She tried three different keys in the deadbolt until she found the right one and stepped into the darkness of the storage area.
It took Ronnie a minute to find the light switch. When she did, she found what she was looking for immediately. In the corner, under a pile of drop cloths was a five gallon work bucket that once held quick-dry concrete. She took it to the work sink nearby and cleaned it out thoroughly until the milky white water ran clear. Her task accomplished, Ronnie returned to the house.
The young woman looked around nervously when the soup was served. Her first inclination was to pick up the smaller spoon but then saw Maria and Ronnie reach for the larger one. "Everything all right?" the executive queried when she saw Rose's hand drop back down to her side.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine," Rose replied, picking up the larger spoon and dipping it into the thick broth. She was very self-conscious and desperately tried not to slurp or lean her elbows on the smooth polished wood. The rest of dinner was eaten in the same general silence, broken only by requests for salt and pepper or comments tossed to Maria about how wonderful the food was. Rose's nervousness wasn't lost on Ronnie, whose quiet suspicions were confirmed when she surreptitiously caught the young honey haired woman mimicking her gestures and movements in regards to the utensils.
"So what did you think of that last question?"
"I still say that it was too easy. Everyone knows that even numbered interstates run east-west and the odd ones run north-south," Rose replied, adjusting the pillow behind her head. Maria had left a few minutes before and they were now relaxing in the office.
"If everyone knows that, then why do so many people get lost when they go traveling?" the older woman replied, leaning back in her chair and setting her bare feet up on the edge of the bed near Rose's left hip. Since the winter months were upon them and Ronnie had no reason to wear open toed shoes, she didn't bother to get pedicures as often as she usually did. In the process of wiggling her toes, a nail scratched against the one next to it. "Well, no wonder I'm ripping up all the pantyhose. I guess it's time to call for a pedicure." She saw a faraway look take over the young woman's face. "What?" she asked softly. "Share with me."
"You were talking about a pedicure and I was remembering when I was thirteen." Seeing the expectant look on the chiseled face of her companion, Rose continued. "The State found a foster family for me for a few weeks and they had a girl right around my age. Stacey loved having me around because I was a willing guinea pig for her to practice cosmetology on. She loved to play with nail polish. She had rows and rows of bottles on her dresser in every color you can imagine." Rose absently reached down and put her fingers on Ronnie's toes. "Well, one night we got in a mood. We painted every nail a different color. I can remember that on my toes it went from plum to avocado to this hideous purple to…" As she spoke, her forefinger brushed across each of the long nails of the bare foot. "The funny thing is that we were up past our bedtime and we didn't have time to remove it. We went to school the next day and when we went to take a shower after gym class everyone saw our toes." She chuckled. "It really was funny. I mean, between the two of us there were twenty different colors on our feet. After that, Stacey deliberately wore different shades of polish on her fingers. That was the last time I polished my toenails."
Ronnie looked at her quizzically, then rose and went to the foot of the bed. Within seconds the oversized socks were removed to reveal Rose's toes. "When was the last time someone gave you a pedicure?"
"That was it, if you could call that a pedicure. I just use clippers to keep them short now. Ow, easy."
"Oh, sorry," Ronnie apologized, letting go of the little toe she had moved to get a better look at the one next to it. Can you feel that in your ankle?"
"Yeah, that's why I don't wiggle them. My legs hurt enough as it is."
"When was the last time you took anything?"
"No, it's not that bad right now. I'd rather wait until I really need it."
Ronnie looked up and remembered what she wanted to do that evening. "Are you ready to get your hair washed?"
"You figured out a way?" She sat up, prepared to get back into the wheelchair.
"No, you stay here. I've got it all worked out so you don't have to get out of bed." The dark haired woman looked at the adjustable bed, currently up in a comfortable angle. "You're gonna have to lay the bed flat, though."
A few minutes later Rose was laying on her back across the bed, her head hanging off the side. A towel braced behind her shoulders dangled down to protect the mattress from any soapy water. Ronnie was sitting on a stool taken from the kitchen, the white five-gallon bucket nestled between her knees. A large towel lay on the floor below to catch any spills. "You ready?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Ronnie poured the water slowly over the honey locks, using her other hand to help distribute the liquid over all the hair. She poured a generous amount of shampoo on her hand and worked it into a generous lather. Ronnie did her best to support Rose's head, taking some of the strain off the young woman's neck. "How's that feel?"
"Niiiice," she murmured, green eyes half-closed. "You have strong fingers."
"I work out. Am I pressing too hard?"
"Oh no, it's very nice."
"Good." Ronnie continued to work her digits into the soft hair, thoroughly cleaning it. "Time to rinse. Keep your eyes closed." Using her left hand to hold Rose's head up, she gently rinsed the shampoo out. Once the majority was gone, she put another dollop of the strawberry scented liquid into her hand. "Round two."
"You're going to wash it again?" Rose asked with surprise.
"Of course. You know the directions. Lather, rinse, repeat." She worked the shampoo into the golden hair before the young woman could tell her not to. "I take it you only wash it once?"
"Yeah, it uses less shampoo that way. My hair always looks clean. Lots of people only wash it once." Nevertheless, Rose leaned into the gentle but firm pressure of Ronnie's fingers. She was treated to not only a second washing, but having conditioner combed through her hair. Twice the executive had to get more water but the results were worth it. The soft overhead light bounced off the various shades of Rose's hair, creating a golden aura around the young woman's face.
"Looks great." the dark haired woman said, noting the smile that came to the cherubic face looking at herself in the hand held mirror. "Doesn't she, Tabitha?" she asked the cat who decided that the water was no longer a threat.
"Mrrow?" Two seconds later, the orange and white purring machine was perched across Rose's belly.
"Ooof, you're definitely gaining weight."
"I think Maria's giving her scraps but I can't prove it," Ronnie said with a smile. "I just know that everytime she's cooking that furball comes out of the kitchen licking her lips."
Ding ding dong dong. The deep tones of the doorbell rang throughout the house. "Who could that be at this hour?" Ronnie asked, looking at the clock on the stand. "It's almost ten." The doorbell rang again, this time accompanied by furious pounding against the solid oak door.
"Ronnie? Ronnie open the fucking door!" More pounding and tones from the bell.
"I'll be right back." She slipped her sneakers on and tucked the excess lace into the sides. Tabitha jumped off the bed, sensing that something more interesting was about to happen in the other room. "Oh no you don't. You stay here with your mother." Ronnie picked up the protesting feline and set her back on the bed, this time within reach of Rose's hand.
"Ronnie! Open this fucking-" The words died in his throat when he saw the outside light come on and heard the lock being turned. "Well it's about time."
"What are you doing here at this hour?" she scowled, having no doubt that her younger brother was quite drunk.
"What the hell are you trying to do to me?" Tommy pushed his way past her and through the foyer into the living room. "I don't show up to work one day and you order a fucking audit?"
"This isn't the time to talk about this, Tommy. Go home and sleep it off." Ronnie moved between him and the office, trying to guide him back to the door. She put her hand on his arm only to have it shoved off.
"Fuck you, Ronnie!" He paced to the other side of the room and punched the wooden front of the entertainment center cabinet. He turned to face her and she could see several days growth on his face as well as the unkempt hair and clothes. Tommy had obviously been on a bender and only now heard the news. "What do you think I'm doing? Stealing from my own company?"
"I don't know what you're doing but I'm not going to let it continue," she shouted back, her own short temper showing. "What is it, Tom? Drugs? Gambling?"
"Go to hell, Miss High and Mighty God of everything!" His fist slammed into the cabinet with enough force to knock a tiny vase off the top. Only the thick plush carpet kept the antique from breaking.
"Get out of my house, Tommy."
"Your house," he scoffed. "I grew up in this fucking house. What gives you the right to tell me to get out?"
"I bought the house fair and square from Mother and you know it." Her eyes narrowed at the wild, almost inhuman look in her brother's eyes. Tommy was strong enough on his own, but if he was on drugs…
Ronnie's suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later when he lifted the end of the heavy coffee table and upended it. "You act like you're an angel but you're not, Ronnie." For the moment he was standing still so she kept her distance. Her heart pounded as the adrenaline pumped through her. "You sit in that office day after day. You have NO idea what it's like to work for a living," he spat, "I can't just snap my fingers and make your wallet bigger."
"No, but you can forge my signature on a loan," she retorted.
"What?"
"You defaulted on a loan and they had my name on there as a cosigner. Why would you need a cosigner, Tommy?"
The sandy haired man blinked a few times as the information sunk in. "Shit. That's all you're ever worried about, isn't it? The fucking money?"
"Someone has to worry about it. You certainly don't. Now get out of my house!"
"This isn't over! I don't care what your damn audit turns up, you can't kick me out of the company." A thought occurred to him. "You may own the most stock but you don't have controlling interest. You think anyone is going to vote with you to get rid of me?" He gave a short laugh, his energy fading as the high he had been riding began to wear off. "Face it, Ronnie. You can't do a thing about me. You think Mom is going to vote with you to toss me out? Frank? Susan? You can't win this battle." He made his way toward the door. "Any fool can see that. Leave me alone, Sis, or you'll regret it." Tommy slammed the door behind him, leaving a bundle of nervous energy in one room and a terrified woman with an equally upset cat in the other.
"You okay?" Ronnie asked when she entered the room. She noticed the pallor of fear on the honey haired woman's face. "Hey, it's okay."
"He was pretty angry. What went crashing?" Rose's demeanor was calmer now that her protector was there with her. She patted the empty place on the bed next to her.
"Nah, thanks," the tall woman continued to stand, although the soft pillow was beckoning her. "He flipped the coffee table and knocked something off the top of the cabinet. Nothing broken." She looked at the TV, still on but with the sound muted. "Hey, there's one of those news magazine shows."
"Yeah, they're supposed to have a thing on those rental trucks and how unsafe they are." She patted the bed again. "Come on, I've got the heat and the massager on. This has got to be more comfortable than that chair." She turned on the small lamp on the table next to her just before Ronnie shut off the overhead light. The softer glow was preferred by both of them for television watching.
"You'd be surprised how comfortable that chair is," Ronnie replied, kicking off her sneakers and reluctantly accepting the offer. She sank into the vibrating warmth and closed her eyes with hedonistic delight. "Oh that's nice. I've got to get one of these for my room." She adjusted the pillow behind her head, slipped her feet under the covers, and opened her eyes. Rose pressed the button and they began watching the show. With the tall woman right next to her, she felt a sense of safety and her rapidly beating heart returned to a more normal level.
"Wasn't that interesting?" the young woman queried when the show was over. Receiving no answer, she turned her head to see her companion's eyes closed. "Ronnie?" No response, just the rhythmic rise and fall of the sweatshirt covered chest. Rose shut the television and lamp off. The bed was plenty big enough and there was no reason for her to wake Ronnie up just to send the older woman to her own bed. "Good night, Ronnie," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting the even breathing of the woman next to her lull her into a sound sleep.
Blue eyes fluttered open shortly after six and looked around, trying to get her bearings. "What the…oh," she mumbled, realizing that she had fallen asleep on Rose's bed. Taking a moment to wipe the sleep out of her eyes, Ronnie propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at her sleeping companion. The morning rays highlighted the upturned nose, the rust eyebrows, the full lips parted slightly in sleep. The seconds ticked by as she watched the slumbering woman. It amazed her how easily she had fallen asleep next to Rose. With the exception of Christine, Ronnie had never slept with anyone and even then it was done only because it was expected by her lover. Truthfully, she never did feel comfortable sharing the bed and often would slip away and sleep in the unused bed in their dorm room. Yet obviously she had no problem curling up and sleeping next to Rose. It was a curious mystery that Ronnie knew wasn't safe to ponder over. She felt the slight hum of the massager beneath her. That's it. It had to have been the massager. It relaxed her enough to put her sleep regardless of the presence of someone else in the bed. The executive smiled to herself with the logic of her thought, yet chose to ignore the fact that she was still laying there next to Rose. She contemplated playing hooky but the voice of responsibility won out. With a disappointed sigh she slowly slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her honey haired companion, and padded off to the bathroom.
A vigorous workout and a refreshing shower prepared Ronnie for the day. She inhaled the cup of coffee that Maria made for her while putting her floor length wool coat on. The temperature had dropped significantly overnight, putting the temperature outside down to single digits. She was headed for the door when the phone rang.
"Cartwright residence," Maria answered. "Just a moment. Ronnie, it's Susan. She sounds upset."
She took the cream colored phone and nodded at her housekeeper. "Susan."
"Ronnie, we have a problem."
"I'm sure we have more than one. What has you so bugged that you couldn't wait until I got to the office?"
"Both Ricky and Timmy came down with chicken pox."
"So? Susan, your kids being sick isn't the end of the world. It's only chicken pox."
"Ronnie, the family Christmas party is tonight."
"So?" She unbuttoned her coat, deciding that it wasn't going to be a quick and easy phone call after all. "I'm too busy to go. Why'd you plan the party for a Wednesday night anyway?"
"It was the best date that we could come up with. People always have parties to go to on the weekends. Putting it on a Wednesday guaranteed that everyone would show up. But that's not the point. The point is we can't have the party here."
"So rent a hall somewhere." A thought dawned on her. "Oh no you don't. Susan, I'm not having the party here."
"Ronnie, it's too late to rent a hall and get directions to everyone."
"You're not having it at my house. No, no no." The coat now found itself draped across a nearby stool. "Sis, I can't have the party here. Do you have any idea how much work that would take?"
"It's perfect. Everyone knows where you live and they'd love the idea of a good old fashioned party at the Cartwright House."
"I've told you before. This is my house now and I don't want every relative in the world trampling through here." She watched Maria preparing eggs for Rose's breakfast. "Sis, I've got company staying with me. It's really not convenient to have people here." The call waiting tone beeped. "Hang on, Susan, I've got another call." She pressed the flash button. "This is Veronica."
"Ronnie, it's your mother."
"Hello Mother." She rolled her eyes, drawing an amused look from her housekeeper.
"I'll be there after I go to the airport to help with the caterers and to make sure you don't put up any of those gaudy decorations."
"What, did Susan call you first? I have her holding on the other line."
"Yes she did and we decided that the house would be the perfect solution."
Perfect solution for everyone but me, Ronnie thought to herself. "Mother, I can't have the party here. Couldn't we just reschedule it or get a hall somewhere?"
"No we can't," Beatrice Cartwright replied. "Now Veronica, we don't have time for all this selfish nonsense. I have to pick your Aunt Elaine up at the airport by three. Send a car for me at two and make sure I don't get that incompetent boob like last time. It took him over an hour to get there."
"Mother, it was a snowstorm and the traffic was backed up for miles. It wasn't his fault."
"He should have taken an alternate route. He couldn't even get in front of the terminal. You just make sure I get someone else this time."
"But-"
"No buts from you, young lady. Now I have to get to my hair appointment. You talk to your sister and don't forget to call for my car."
"Mo-"
"Goodbye dear. Nice talking with you." Click. Ronnie took the phone from her ear and stared at the receiver for a moment before hitting the flash button.
"Susan? You still there?"
"I'm here. I assume that was Mother on the other line?"
"You assume correctly. Nothing like bringing in the heavy artillery."
"I'm sorry about that." Ronnie doubted her sister's sincerity. "I'll bring some ornaments that the boys made. Ooh, they're so cute. Ronnie, you'll love them. Ricky made this one with green glitter-"
"Sis, I need to get going here." She gave a defeated sigh. "I guess I have a party to get ready for."
"Oh sure. Jack and I will be by around six. I'll let the family know."
"I'm sure Mother's already called them," Ronnie said in a dry tone. "You deal with getting the decorator and caterers over here. Oh, and Susan?"
"Yes?"
"This makes us even."
Rose was surprised to see Ronnie walk in and turn on the computer. "Good morning."
"Morning, Rose," she replied, setting her coffee cup down and typing in her password. "Maria will be bringing your breakfast in a few minutes." She clicked on her mail file and quickly scanned the unread ones.
"Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong? My mother and sister have decided that the family Christmas party is going to be held at my house tonight."
"Oh." A momentary pause, then "What are you going to do?"
"What can I do? I guess I'm going to get this place ready for them." She began tapping the pencil in her left hand on the desk. "At least a third of them smoke. I put those carpets in three years ago and they're still perfect. You think they'll stay that way? Ha, I bet you there's gonna be at least a half dozen burn holes in it before the night is over." Ronnie stopped ranting long enough to take a swallow of coffee. "I have to rearrange all the furniture, have Maria clean the game room and set up the bar in there, have the liquor store make a delivery…" The tapping increased. "And on top of all that I have to go get both of us something to wear."
"U-us?" Rose swallowed hard at the implication.
"Well, yes of course." Ronnie looked at her quizzically. "You don't want to greet everyone wearing my Dartmouth shirt, do you?"
"What? Uh…" The shock hadn't worn off yet and the honey haired woman was at a loss for words. "I…well…"
"Rose, I'm not trying to punish you by making you meet my family, but I'm not going to lock you up in a room all alone for the evening while there's a party going on." The pencil found its way to perfect white teeth which began gnawing at the eraser. "Actually," she mumbled around the yellow writing implement while looking around the room. "Think we can both hide in here all night?"
They chuckled for a few seconds before the seriousness of the situation took over. Ronnie set the pencil on the desk and moved her chair closer to the bed. "As much as I'd like to let you stay hidden away, everyone knows that there's a bathroom in here." They were interrupted by Maria bouncing into the room with the tray of food and a decanter of coffee.
"Where are you going to want the tree?" the housekeeper asked.
"In someone else's house," Ronnie wisecracked, drawing a snort from her companion. "I don't care. Rose and I are going to hide out in here all night."
"Don't even think about it, Veronica Louise." Maria set the tray over Rose's lap and began pouring coffee into the ceramic mug. Ronnie held her own cup out expectantly. "There isn't enough time to get the carpets cleaned."
"Vacuuming will be fine. Thanks." She pulled the cup to her lips and took a grateful sip. "Do you want me to call somewhere and get extra help to get the place ready?"
A look akin to hurt flashed through the brown eyes of the housekeeper. "Just because you don't run around like your mother checking for dust doesn't mean that I've let this house go unattended. I polish the silver regularly even if you don't use it. Except for a quick run of the vacuum and moving the furniture, we're all set for company. Of course I can't put that coffee table back the way it should be."
"I'm sorry, Maria, I didn't mean to suggest that you did anything less than a perfect job. I'll take care of the coffee table and everything else." She drained her cup. "Right now I need to run out and get a few things." Ronnie stood up and gave Rose a smile. "Your nurse should be here in a little while and I'll be back in a couple of hours. What's your favorite color?"
"Really, I don't-"
"Color?"
Rose looked into deep azure depths and the answer came without thought. "Blue."
"Easy to find something nice in that color. What shade? Do you prefer light tones like turquoise or dark ones like cobalt?" Ronnie didn't fail to notice the green orbs that continued to stare into her own.
"Um…a bright blue, I guess. Something deep and rich." Rose shifted nervously and looked down at her toast. "I guess any shade is fine."
"I'll make sure to pick something nice out." Ronnie smiled inwardly at the thought of being able to pick a dress for her to wear.
"If it's too much trouble I can go in another room. I could take a book into the laundry room. No one will go in there," Rose offered, feeling very much in the way.
"No." Ronnie answered quickly. "I'm not going to hide you. You're a guest in my home and they're just going to have to accept it." She flashed a look to Maria, who nodded in agreement. "I'll be back before lunch."
Accidental Love Ó 1998 B L Miller. Do not distribute or copy without permission of the author except for personal use.