It was easy enough for Ronnie to walk into the exclusive boutique and pick out a dress for herself. It was quite another thing to pick out something for Rose to wear. For the better part of an hour she sat there watching the model try on different combinations of blouses and skirts, pantsuits, and dresses. Nothing seemed right.
"Perhaps if you told me what exactly you were looking for, Miss Cartwright?" The manager asked.
"I'm not really certain how to explain it but none of these will work." Ronnie waved a hand at the rack of clothes. The matronly woman looked at her particular customer and frowned.
"What is wrong with them? Perhaps we can figure out what you're looking for that way."
"There's nothing wrong with them so much as they're just not right." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Maybe I should just look around and see if there's something I like."
"By all means." The boutique manager waved her arm. "Monica will be happy to model anything you wish."
Ronnie walked through the racks of expensive garments, barely giving any of them more than a passing glance. Then she saw it. Tucked into the corner, she almost missed it and in fact wasn't even sure what made her look in that direction. She reached over and pulled the dress out to look at it. Just a shade below a bright blue, the silk shimmered with beauty and softness. The material gathered at the elastic waistband before flaring out again. Ronnie guessed that it would reach down to Rose's ankles, easily covering the casts. "This one," she announced, drawing the manager's attention.
"Would you like Monica to model it?"
"That won't be necessary. This is the one I want." She glanced at the size tag. "Yes, this will be perfect."
The Jeep worked its way through the holiday traffic. A glance at the clock on the radio told the executive that it was almost eleven. So far she had been to the boutique and the jeweler's. Now it was to the mall to fight with other shoppers for the little things that were needed…like gifts. She was within a mile of the mall when a corner lot full of trees caught her eye. She pulled the Cherokee over and walked through the isles of pine and balsam propped up against wooden rails. Seeing a sale, the stocky merchant dashed over to her side.
"What can I help you with today?"
"I need a tree with nice full boughs and a sturdy top." Ronnie gave disapproving looks at the group in front of her.
"We have very nice ones toward the back," he said, gesturing toward the taller pines leaned against the chain link fence that ran along the back of the lot. "How tall are you looking for?"
Ronnie's brow furrowed as she tried to imagine just how tall the trees in her home usually were. "Tall. Over eight feet."
"Oh, well then." His eyes lit up even more and the pace quickened. "We have some beautiful nine and ten footers."
Ronnie settled on a ten foot tree that seemed to want to burst forth from the ropes holding it. The man called his son over to help but it still took some help from the strong woman to get it on the top of the Jeep. It hung over the front, the white rope running from the tree to the front bumper. A pair of ropes did the same to the back. Once fully secured, Ronnie resumed her journey to the mall. She pressed the scan button on her radio and settled on a station playing holiday music. When the Carpenter's song Merry Christmas, Darling came on, Ronnie lost herself in the haunting sounds and harmony. Without thinking about it, she began singing along, her rich contralto voice blending in with the unique tones of the late Karen. She ignored the strange looks being thrown at her by the other drivers, preferring instead to lose herself in the song. Even after pulling into the parking space, she left the car running until the song was over.
Holiday ditties were piped through the speakers, adding to the general din of the crowd. Everyone had bags in their hands and was in a hurry to finish up their shopping. Ronnie gripped her purse closer to her body and headed for Macy's. A few gift certificates and her shopping would be done. As she moved through the bustling crowd, she saw the Christmas shop, a generic store opened just for the holidays to sell everything from tinsel to lights to ornaments of every possible design. The clerks alternated between ringing up sales and watching for shoplifters. Ronnie picked up a shopping basket and began filling it with the usual decorations. Soon the basket was full but she wasn't finished. After nailing down a clerk to help her, Ronnie spent the better part of an hour picking both tasteful and fun things to convert her dour residence into a festive home. Just as she handed the clerk her credit card, she noticed one item that had been overlooked. "Oh, wait. I'll need that too." She pointed an elegant finger at the item in question. As the sprig of mistletoe was added to her purchases, Ronnie's mind entertained the possible benefit of catching Rose beneath it. "Add a few more, will you please?"
"What's going on?" Rose looked up and saw Ronnie's concerned face as she entered the room.
"I-it's okay," She croaked, embarrassed at the drops that continued to run down her cheeks. "I have to stretch and it hurts."
"Let's try again." Karen said gently, putting her hands in position.
"No wait, please? Can't we try again later?" She implored, desperate to take her Percocet and ease the pain.
"Let me try," Ronnie said, replacing Karen's hands with her own. The young woman watched as the nurse explained how to properly stretch. Blue eyes looked down at her. "You think you're ready?"
Rose stared back, her eyes conveying her fear of the pain. "Be gentle?" She was still hesitant but there was something reassuring about the warmth of Ronnie's hands on her foot.
"I swear." The softly spoken words bathed her with a sense of reassurance. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of the strong fingers on her skin. Slowly she raised her leg to the point where she felt the pull up the back of her thighs. "Come on, Rose…that's it, just a little more now." She felt her limb being raised higher and fought the urge to fight against it. "That's good, you're doing great, Rose. You think we can go a little higher? Just a little bit?"
Ever so slowly she lifted her leg until she couldn't take the pain anymore. Dimly she realized that it was higher than she had been able to go before but that was immaterial at the moment. "Please…"
"Okay, relax now. We're going to go back down now." Rose's eyes were closed tightly and she clung to Ronnie's words and soothing tone fervently. "There you go, almost done now." Soon the cool sheet greeted her heel and she let out a deep breath. "How do you feel?"
Rose opened her eyes with surprise at the proximity of the voice and found herself staring into the endless blue depths. "It hurts."
"Shh, it's over now." Ronnie looked up at Karen. "I think we're done for the day. I have a party here tonight that we have to get ready for. Is there anything else that has to be done?"
"Just bathing Miss Grayson."
"Oh." Rose looked from one woman to the other. "I can wash myself mostly if someone can get the water and washcloth for me." She tried to tell her benefactor with her eyes that this was what she preferred to do.
"Okay. I guess we can handle everything else, Karen. We'll see you tomorrow."
Rose relaxed with Ronnie's words, until she remembered the rest of them…a party here tonight that we have to get ready for. "Oh god, the party."
"Don't worry about it," the dark haired woman replied, walking into the bathroom. "I'll get the things together you'll need to wash up and then we'll get you dressed." The sound of water running into the basin mixed with the words. "I've got to get everything from the car and find the stand for the tree." She returned with the washbowl, soap, and cloth. "I think it's in the attic. Do you need anything else before I go?"
"No, this is great." Rose maintained her smile until the older woman left the room. That's when the panic began to set in. A party. A party full of strangers. A party full of high class strangers. A party full of high class strangers related to Ronnie. The Dartmouth shirt found its way off her body and onto the bed. Rose felt the pressure building from within not to do anything to embarrass her friend. The soapy cloth moved over her arms and shoulders as she thought about the possible disasters that could befall the evening. Her legs could get bumped accidentally, she could spill a drink down her front, say the wrong thing, all those and a dozen others passed through her mind while she continued to clean herself.
She was just finishing up when Ronnie knocked on the door. "May I come in?" Rose covered her chest with the fluffy towel before answering. The older woman walked in with a bag in one hand and the most gorgeous dress she had ever seen in the other.
"It's beautiful," she whispered in awe.
"Glad you like it. I've got all the things you'll need to wear with it so it's just as good a time as any to get you dressed." Ronnie walked over to the bed and set the bag down. "Then you can help me with the other things that need to be done." She reached into the bag and pulled out a lacy brassiere, snapping off the price tags effortlessly. "I um…I got one that closed in the front." Rose noted that the older woman wouldn't look directly at her. "I thought that would be easier for you."
"Yes, it would be, thank you." She wasn't sure how to take what appeared to be shyness mixed with enthusiasm from her friend. Ronnie seemed almost nervous to her. She took the bra and ran her fingertips over the lacy trim. They were low cut cups, designed to be worn with something that showed cleavage and had no padding, not that she needed any help in that department. Rose was quite comfortable with her 36C bust that had only recently began to droop as all breasts are required to do after age twenty-five. She looked at the size tag. 36B. Well, it would still fit, she decided, just make her appear more busty. She let the towel drop and slipped her arms through the straps before hooking it. "It fits nicely, thanks," she said, drawing Ronnie's attention away from the sales receipt that she had been studying intently.
"Oh, good. I wasn't sure what size to get. Do the straps need adjusting?"
"Actually, yeah, they do." Rose sat up as best she could while Ronnie sat down next to her on the bed and slipped her fingers under the thin strap.
"Let me know when it feels right," she said. The honey haired woman nodded and tried to focus on the task at hand.
"A little higher…no, a little less than that…yeah, that's good." She placed her hand on the side of her right breast and checked the fit. Yes, it felt just right. Ronnie walked around to the other side and repeated the process. The end result was exactly what Rose thought it would be. Her breasts pushed up from the confines of the lacy bra, appearing to her to be larger than usual.
"Um…do you like it? I can still run out and get a different one if you don't like it."
"No no, it's fine, really," she assured. "Truthfully, I don't think I've ever owned such a pretty bra." She looked up to see a smile on Ronnie's face. "It's very nice of you, thanks."
"Oh, there's more." She returned to the bag and pulled out a silky lace half-slip and equally delicate panties. "I had to guess at the size for these too, but they should be close.
With the older woman's help, Rose pulled the half-slip over her head and into position. She flushed with embarrassment as Ronnie helped her get the panties on, unable to take over the job herself until they were within inches of being pulled all the way up. "How are we going to get the dress on?"
"Easy. We have to put you in the chair first, though."
Sitting in nothing but undergarments in the wheelchair, Rose patiently waited while Ronnie gathered the layers of blue material. "Put your arms up." She did as told and soon the dress was in position. It hurt her hamstrings to lean forward while it was zipped and tucked around her waist but it was over quickly. A new pair of large tube socks covered her feet and ankles. "That's the best I can do. I don't think slippers or anything like that would fit over the cast."
Ronnie stepped back to admire her handiwork. She had good reason to be proud. Rose was a vision, even with the stitches still prominently displayed on her right cheek. Her golden hair hung loosely over her shoulders, creating the aura that captivated the older woman. The rich blue highlighted the alabaster skin and the low front accented another set of lovely features. Looking at the vision before her, Ronnie could no longer deny that she was feeling an attraction to the young woman. "You look beautiful," she said, sadly knowing inside that she could never act on that feeling. The truth of the accident ruined any chance of that.
"Thank you," Rose replied. She ran her hand down the shimmering fabric. It was so delicate, so beautiful. A lump formed in her throat and she found herself blinking rapidly. It was obvious that Ronnie had taken great care in picking out the clothes. She didn't even want to think about how much everything cost her wealthy friend. "Everything is perfect…it's all…"
"Hey, if it really is too much for you I'll figure something else out," Ronnie cooed, kneeling down next to the chair.
"No, I can do this. I…" She sniffled and lifted her head, convinced that she had her emotions under control. "I told you about my life. I've never been to fancy parties or worn beautiful clothes like this. I've given up on trying to figure out why you're helping me but it's still a bit overwhelming sometimes." She clasped the larger hand resting on her own. "I know I thank you all the time and I seem to cry at the drop of a hat but I can't remember when anyone has been so good to me." She lowered her eyes, the gentle green partially obscured by naturally long lashes. "You're a very special woman, Veronica Cartwright."
"So are you," Ronnie countered, squeezing the hand beneath hers. The grandfather clock in the living room bonged with the arrival of the top of the hour. "I'd better finish getting everything inside and get changed. The decorators and caterers will be arriving soon." She stood up, reluctantly removing her hand from between Rose's. "Do you want to hang out in the living room or stay in here for a while longer?"
"I think I'd like to go out there if I won't be in the way. It'd be nice to watch everything get set up."
"Fine." Ronnie smiled and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. "I'll put you to work then. You can direct traffic and make sure the decorations are evenly spaced on the tree."
"Tree? You bought a tree?" Rose's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Hey, I may not want to throw this party but if I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it right. Besides, wouldn't you like a tree for Christmas?"
"I uh…yeah, that would be very nice." She didn't believe that Ronnie would decorate at all based on their earlier conversations but now…. "A tree would be very nice."
Ronnie decided that the smile she received was worth all the trees in the world. "Great. Let's go get this place ready."
Maria expertly controlled the traffic of caterers and decorators. Calls for surge protectors and extra outlets were met with ease by the experienced housekeeper. Whether it was tacks to hang up the streamers or the mini steamer to clean up a spill on the carpet, she was one step ahead of them. Even the issue of Tabitha had been settled. Feline, food, litter box, and a bag of catnip were now relaxing in the laundry room. With her chair in the far corner of the living room, Rose stayed out of the way but was still able to keep an eye on the symmetry of the tree decorations. With Maria busy and Ronnie nowhere in sight, the decorators turned to her time and again for instructions on where to place this ornament or that string of lights. Rose tried to think about how her friend would like it to look. She decided that tasteful yet appealing to the eye would be nice with just a touch of flair thrown in.
Ronnie stopped halfway down the stairs and just gaped at what she saw. A colorful array of blue, yellow, and red ornaments accented the branches of the tree, no one area screaming for more attention than the other. Tinsel was draped in light strips throughout, also with the same sense of symmetry. Multi-colored strings of lights twinkled and glowed with the exception of one set. Blue and red chaser lights formed a double-helix design from the base up to the top, drawing attention to the traditional star resting there. The tree was absolutely perfect to her.
Slowly her head turned to take in the rest of the effect. The decorations were scattered about the room, transforming it into an open and welcoming space. Twisted streamers of red and green rimmed the room, old family ornaments hanging off them like tassels. Ronnie smiled as the sense of nostalgia flooded through her and images of childhood parties superimposed themselves over the modern scene.
The hostess wasn't the only one stunned into silence. Rose looked up and found she couldn't tear her eyes away. The velvet dress stopped just above the knees and was the same shade as Ronnie's hair. A gold herringbone necklace and matching belt accented the diamond studded earrings and bracelet, giving color to the outfit. A touch of blush enhanced the natural highlights of her cheekbones and a shade called coincidentally enough, Always Rose, emphasized her lips and nails. The soft velvet scooped down respectfully in the front, perfect for family occasions and the three-quarter sleeves highlighted every movement of her long arms. Veronica Cartwright was, in a word…stunning. When Rose saw blue eyes gazing back at her, she turned away, embarrassed at having been caught staring. Wrapped up in her own unexpected emotions, the honey haired woman didn't realize that she had been stared at as well.
Ronnie worked her way down the stairs, still enchanted by the miracle performed on her living room. "It's perfect," she said when she reached the young woman's side.
"I saw the box of old ornaments and thought it might be nice to put them out where everyone could see and remember them. I hope that was all right. It gave color to the entire room instead of just the corner with the tree."
"It was a wonderful idea and I love it." She gave a smile reserved for Rose alone. The grandfather clock chimed. "Mother's going to be here any minute." Ronnie knelt down next to the chair. "Sometimes my mother can be a bit…harsh. I'll try to keep her away from you. Don't forget what I said about Susan being a gossip. I have to walk around and speak with everyone but I'll try to spend as much time near you as I can." The sound of a limousine pulling up in the driveway filtered through to them. "That's probably her and Aunt Elaine."
As expected, Beatrice Cartwright arrived with her younger sister Elaine. Beatrice took her role as matriarch seriously, feeling that it outranked everything else, including the president of Cartwright Corporation. She was no sooner in the door than she was ordering the decorators around and scrutinizing the caterer's work. While Ronnie was busy listening to her mother's demands about the party, Elaine wandered into the living room and spotted Rose.
"Hello there."
"Hello."
"Elaine McCarthy, Ronnie's aunt." She held her well manicured hand out.
"Rose Grayson. I'm…a friend of Ronnie." She returned the gesture. Elaine removed her red scarf to reveal dyed brown hair.
"Well…," the older woman said, looking around, "Seems like Ronnie did a halfway-decent job." She reached into her overstuffed pocketbook and pulled out a silver cigarette case. "I'm surprised the party is here this year. She's managed to worm her way out of the last two family get-togethers." A press of the button on the silver lighter and the cigarette glowed to life. "You know where the ashtrays are?"
"Um, no I don't," Rose replied, hoping that the woman would take her foul-smelling vice somewhere else.
"Well, I don't need it right this instant. So tell me, what happened?"
"I was hit by a car." She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the memory.
"That's a shame. But that's what insurance is for, I guess. I hope you have a good lawyer." Elaine exhaled, sending a stream of smoke into Rose's face. "My plane was over twenty minutes late getting into Albany. I can drive through snow with no problem. I don't understand why pilots whine so much about the snow. It's not like they have to come to any sudden stops or anything." The smoke hung in the air, forcing Rose to blink rapidly to keep from tearing up. "I guess people always have something to complain about."
Rose thought briefly about pointing out the fallacy in the wealthy woman's thinking but decided against it. "I guess so," she said, craning her head around to look for Ronnie.
"Exactly!" Elaine said enthusiastically, her movements causing ashes to fall on the carpet.
"Oh, let me go find you an ashtray." Rose gripped the wheels of her chair and prepared to make her exit.
"Now why bother doing that?" Elaine caught the attention of a passing waiter. "Excuse me, I don't see any ashtrays around here." Her condescending tone wasn't missed by either the young man or Rose.
"I'll get you one right away, Miss," he replied.
"And I don't think it would hurt anything for someone to start tending bar." She turned her attention back to the honey haired woman. "Really, you'd think we paid them to stand around." Another ash fell onto the carpet. "When my husband Richard was alive, the workers never even thought about striking. They knew where their paychecks came from. Then the damn unions came along…" Elaine paused long enough to pull a chair over, effectively cutting off any thought Rose had of escape.
Ronnie wasn't faring much better in the kitchen. "Mother…"
"Now there's nothing wrong with saying the truth, Veronica." She cast a disdainful look around the room. "The refrigerator should be opposite the stove, not next to it. That's why we had it on the other side of the room."
"It's easier for Maria to work with it over here." Ronnie had forgotten that her mother hadn't been over since the remodeling last summer.
Beatrice stepped away from her daughter. "Heaven forbid Maria walk a few steps to get the butter. It didn't bother her mother when she worked for us." She shook her head dismissively. "Coddling, Veronica. I've warned you about coddling."
"I don't think moving the fridge ten feet constitutes coddling, Mother."
"Of course you wouldn't, dear." The hairs on Ronnie's neck bristled at the tone. "And what did you get for rearranging the kitchen? Did Maria still ask for her annual raise? Of course she did. I'm sure most of this…" She pointed at the cook's island and the dishwasher. "…was her idea."
"Why don't we go see the tree? They did a very nice job decorating it."
"We'll see." Ronnie reluctantly followed her mother out of the kitchen.
Rose watched the two of them enter the living room. "See how the ornaments from when we were kids are out? Isn't that nice?"
"Very nice, Veronica." For the first time since she entered the house, Beatrice actually smiled. "I remember how every year you gave me an ornament. I guess some family traditions are destined to fall by the wayside." She turned and noticed her sister and the woman in a wheelchair. "Ah, there you are, Elaine. And who do we have here?"
"Mother, this is Rose Grayson. Rose, Beatrice Cartwright." Ronnie's voice remained pleasant but her eyes narrowed at the wisps of smoke rising from the crystal plate being used as an ashtray.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cartwright," the young woman said.
"Grayson…Grayson…" The wrinkled brow furrowed with thought. "I don't recall any Graysons. What happened to your face? And the rest of you?"
"I was in an accident."
"Oh," she tsked. "You poor thing. Such a pretty face ruined like that." Beatrice moved to get a better look at Rose's right cheek. "Well don't give up hope, dear. It's amazing what they can do with plastic surgery these days."
Rose looked down at her lap, wishing she was keeping Tabitha company at the moment instead of being subjected to this torture. She didn't see the empathetic gaze being cast on her by Ronnie. "I'm just happy to be alive."
"Of course," the matriarch said before turning to face her daughter. "So what brings her to our family Christmas party?"
Rose wasn't sure which bothered her more, the fact that Beatrice was speaking as if she wasn't there or that with just a few short words the older woman made her feel more like an outsider than ever. Suddenly a warm hand rested on her shoulder. "Rose is staying with me while she recovers."
"Couldn't her own people take care of her?"
"She's a friend and a guest in my home, Mother." The hand on her shoulder gave a quick squeeze before withdrawing, a reassuring gesture that the honey haired woman greatly appreciated.
Beatrice looked at her daughter and nodded. "Of course, Veronica. We had no way of knowing that you had company. I'm sure the caterers can come up with an extra plate."
"I'm sure they can." On the surface, Ronnie appeared calm, but the rhythmic clenching of her jaw didn't go unnoticed by Rose.
"Well…" Beatrice looked at her sister. "Elaine, I think there's too much red on the lower branches. Come help me show these people how to properly decorate a tree."
Elaine made only the barest of attempts to put her cigarette out. "The problem isn't the balls, it's the lights." She set her purse down next to Rose's chair. "Be a dear and keep an eye on this for me. I don't want to have to drag it around." She walked away without waiting for an answer.
"You okay?" Ronnie asked once the older women were out of earshot. She could only imagine what Elaine had said to Rose before she and her mother had entered the room. The young woman took a deep breath before answering.
"They're quite a pair, aren't they?"
"I tried to warn you."
"You weren't exaggerating." She looked up into deep blue eyes. "Ronnie, if it's going to be a problem, I can go into the laundry room. I don't mind, really."
"I should have let you take that escape when you could," she said apologetically. "Unfortunately they've seen you. You're stuck just like me until the last guest is gone." She leaned down and whispered conspiratorially, "Welcome to the world of the rich and snobbish." The doorbell announced the first in a stream of arrivals. "I guess it's time to meet the rest of the family."
In groups of twos and threes the relatives arrived, those that planned on attending as well as those that decided after finding out that it was being held at Ronnie's house. Limousines and luxury cars lined the long driveway and filled the parking area while taxis dropped even more attendees off. The electronic age allowed word to travel quickly and word was that the place to be that evening was the old Cartwright Mansion.
Susan and Jack arrived almost an hour later than expected. The redhead joined her mother and sister while her husband headed for the bar. "What a crowd," she said joyously as she approached.
"Yes, it does appear to be shaping up to be a success," Beatrice replied. "Your brother isn't here yet, though."
"What a shame," Ronnie muttered before taking a sip from her long stemmed champagne glass.
"What was that, dear?"
"Nothing, Mother." She scanned the room. "Excuse me, I have to go tend to my guests. Susan, you can help greet the new arrivals." Long legs carried her away before they could respond.
The corner opposite the tree seemed to be a good place for Rose to hide out. People stopped by, inquired about what happened to her, gave sympathetic looks and moved on. She had been eavesdropping on a nearby conversation about the history of a particular ornament when she saw Ronnie moving through the crowd. Blue eyes smiled warmly at her and the tall hostess headed in her direction. "How are you?"
"Fine. Is that your sister?" She pointed at the redhead standing next to Beatrice.
"Mmm." Ronnie took a sip, letting the tiny bubbles tickle her nose, and looked around. "Everyone seems to be having a good time. I've heard more than one compliment on the decorations. Putting the old ornaments out along the streamers really was a good idea."
"Thank you." The honey haired woman smiled shyly and looked around the room. "Quite the crowd."
"Yeah, and some of them were actually invited. Susan said there'd be close to forty and we're well past that figure now." She tasted the champagne again. "Where's yours?"
Rose lowered her voice and looked around, not wanting to be overheard. "I didn't think I should…you know, with the Percocet and all." She felt alone enough being in a room full of strangers but without being able to even join them in a simple toast made her feel even more isolated.
"Oh…I didn't think of that." Ronnie looked around and waved a serving person over, taking a step away from her in the process. The din of the crowd and the holiday music made it impossible for Rose to hear what was said. A few whispers later and the elegant hostess returned to her side.
I've seen that look from you before. What are you up to? Aloud she asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Fine. I just had to take care of something." She retrieved her glass. "So have you met everyone?"
"I think so. It seems like I've been saying 'hit by a car' all night long." The injured woman gave a short laugh. "There's a little boy running around…"
"Tyler."
"Yeah, he's a cutie. Anyway, he was over here earlier. Stepped up on the coffee table before I could stop him and asked me if my stitches hurt."
"Stepped…" Ronnie looked past her to see if there were any scuff marks. "He walked on my table?"
Rose smiled at her friend. "Don't worry, I made him get down, but before I did he leaned over and kissed my cheek."
"He what?"
"He kissed my cheek. Said his mother did that to his boo-boos."
"Tyler did that?"
"Yeah, the little boy." She watched as Ronnie's expression changed from one of annoyance to one of pleasure at the kind act.
The serving person arrived with a long stemmed glass filled with amber liquid. "Here's your drink, Miss."
"I didn't-" Rose stopped when she saw the look on Ronnie's face. "I mean, thanks." She took the glass, thinking that perhaps her benefactor had wanted another drink without anyone knowing about it. The waitress smiled and walked away to take care of the other guests.
"It's ginger ale. I thought you'd like something to drink that looked like the champagne," the older woman said, taking a sip from her own.
"Yes, this is perfect," Rose replied, bringing the glass to her lips. The tiny bubbles from the soda tickled her nose much like she supposed the champagne would. The color match was almost perfect. The ginger ale was so light in color that no one would suspect that it was anything different from what they were drinking. A blonde woman in a blue dress stopped by to talk with the hostess, giving Rose the opportunity to watch her friend. Ronnie's body language spoke of friendliness but her eyes told a different story. Obviously there was something about this particular person that the wealthy woman didn't like. The blue eyes darted about as if looking for an escape yet the words continued to flow freely from her lips. Rose decided that she liked the way that particular shade of lipstick looked on Ronnie. The discreet slit in the black velvet revealed that the tall woman chose to wear a garter and stockings that evening instead of hose. The fair haired woman had never seen anyone wear such an item before, being far more familiar with the kind that came from a plastic egg than expensive boutiques. Rose watched expertly manicured nails tap the champagne glass in a nameless rhythm as the conversation between Ronnie and the woman in blue dragged on. Again the young woman's mind went back to the puzzle of why she was there. Surely someone like Veronica Cartwright didn't lack for company. Rose knew that one of the reasons for the large crowd was Ronnie's presence. She had listened in on enough of the conversations that evening to know that. So why did someone like that want her around?
The woman in blue finally found someone else to talk to and Ronnie was once again standing by her side. "That's Agnes, Frank's wife."
"And Frank is…" Rose tried, but there were just too many Cartwrights to remember.
"Cousin, car wash."
"Oh, right. Is he the one who cheated on his taxes?"
"They probably all do that, but he has it down to an art form. How'd you know that?"
Rose smiled at the quizzical look. "The man with the toupee and one with the cigar were talking and I heard one of them comment on it." She gave a sheepish grin. "I was just sitting here and they were right there. I couldn't miss it."
"So you're the one to go to when I want information, huh?"
"I guess it depends on the information," she replied.
"Okay," Ronnie put her hands on the arm of the wheelchair and knelt down so that only Rose could hear her. "So what are they saying about the party? I know what they've said to me but what are they saying to each other?"
"Everyone is raving about how nice it is, that it reminds them of parties from years ago. You're getting lots of compliments." She didn't miss the look of pride that crossed Ronnie's face.
"So they're really having a good time?"
"Yes, a fabulous time, actually. I heard more than one say that they wished you'd do it every year."
Ronnie looked around. "You know, it is nice to see the whole family here again. It's like when Dad was alive."
Rose put her hand on the older woman's. "You really miss him, don't you?" Blue eyes regarded her seriously before she received an almost imperceptible nod.
"He enjoyed these parties." Ronnie pivoted and looked at the tree. "Christmas was his favorite time. He'd get such a kick out of seeing the kids opening their presents or reminiscing with everyone." Her face took on a faraway look. "He used to drag out the projector and screen and show the old home movies." There was a long pause. "Yeah, I miss him." Ronnie stood up, withdrawing her hand from under the smaller one. "He would have liked this." A commotion near the door drew their attention. "Damn."
Rose watched the transformation before her. Lips pressed tight, eyes narrowed to intimidating slits, jaw muscles clenching…everything about Ronnie's appearance spoke of being ready for trouble. The gold and black outfit only moments before had made the raven haired woman appear soft. Now it helped to make her seem downright dangerous. Rose turned her head to see what had captured her friend's attention. "Is that Tommy?" At Ronnie's nod, she studied the man who dared to return after the fiasco the evening before. Good looks ran in the family, she decided, taking in his sandy hair, piercing blue eyes, and athletic body. It was hard for her to reconcile the image before her with the screaming maniac of a man who had flipped over the mahogany coffee table. "I can't believe he showed up," she finally said after a minute.
"It's an act, you know. Him smiling and being all nice-nice like that. He's just charming Mother and Susan…and anyone else who's foolish enough to fall for it."
"What are you going to do?" She couldn't imagine Ronnie confronting him in front of the whole family at the Christmas party but Rose also couldn't see her putting up with his presence all night long.
"I guess I'd better get over there and say hello to my brother." She held her glass out. "Keep an eye on this for me. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Ronnie…" she said, taking the crystal. "You okay?"
"Part of being in my position is having to be nice to people I can't stand. If I don't get over there, Mother will think that I'm snubbing him."
Rose watched her walk away, thinking to herself how hard it had to be for Ronnie to be pleasant to her brother after last night's antics. She said a silent prayer for the evening to go well.
As Ronnie headed toward her siblings, she felt a tugging on her dress. She turned and looked down to see a round face smiling up at her.
"Hi, Cussin Ronnie."
"Hi Tyler," she replied, kneeling down to his level. "How are you? Are you having a good time?"
"Yeah." He held out a little cookie covered with red sprinkles. "There's lots of stuff to eat."
"So you like the cookies, huh?" She reached out and wrapped one long arm around him. "That was very nice of you to give Rose a kiss." Tyler smiled shyly and put the holiday treat in his mouth.
"Iff you kith the boo-boos, they get better," he mumbled, spewing cookie crumbs with each syllable.
Ronnie pulled him close and gave him a hug. "I hope so." She stood up and tousled his hair. "You're a good boy, Tyler." She turned to go but he tugged on the velvet again. "What is it?"
"Do you know where the baffroom is?" He grabbed himself to stress his urgency.
"Yup, come on, you." She picked him up and quickly moved across the room, not stopping until she was in the office. "In that room." She pointed at the other door.
While she was waiting to take him back out she noticed the Percocet sitting on the table next to the bed. Oh, I don't think that's a good idea, she said to herself, snatching the brown plastic bottle. Once Tyler was finished, she sent him back out into the living room and put the prescription on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet, certain that up there it would be well out of reach of any curious little hands. That task finished, she stepped into the living room and steeled herself to greet her brother.
"Oh, here comes Ronnie," Susan said.
"Good. I don't know where she's been all this time," the matriarch said in a disapproving tone.
"Sorry, I had to help Tyler find the bathroom," Ronnie said, giving a smile full of teeth. "Hello Tommy."
"Hi Sis, how are you?" He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Bitch!" he hissed before stepping back. "That dress looks wonderful on you, doesn't it Mother?"
"It's very nice, but too dark." She reached out and tugged on the velvet sleeve. "You should wear lighter colors, Veronica."
"Well I think she looks lovely," he said, sounding totally supportive of his oldest sister. "Ronnie looks good no matter what she wears."
Oh that's right, lay it on thick, you son of a bitch, she thought to herself. "You look nice tonight too, Tommy. New suit?"
"Actually, it is. I didn't think anything I had was good enough for tonight."
"I'm sure of that." Blue eyes shot daggers at the sandy haired man.
"After all, I do believe this is the first time that you've allowed the family in here since you took it over." He gave her a sinister grin, daring her to push it.
"Well I think it looks very nice here tonight," Susan chirped. "I like the way you hung all the ornaments around. Everyone's stopping to look at them. I want to see the one I made in the third grade. Ronnie, can you help me find it?" The raven haired woman gratefully took the escape offered her.
"Yeah, I think it's over here."
They walked through the crowd until a flash of golden hair caught Susan's eye. Immediately the redhead's direction changed. "Where are you going?" Ronnie asked.
"To meet the infamous Rose Grayson," she replied. "Aunt Elaine said she was in a car accident."
"Susan…"
"Now what kind of hostess would I be if I didn't stop by and meet everyone?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
"I thought I was the one hosting the party. It is my home."
"Whatever." The redhead replied, obviously not interested in silly technical details like that. "Either way, I really should meet her." She felt a firm hand grab her upper arm.
"Don't you dare put her through one of your famous inquisitions." Ronnie lessened her grip, but only slightly. "I mean, she's kinda shy."
"How am I supposed to learn anything about a person if I don't ask them questions?" Susan teased, but the serious look on her sister's face made her reconsider. "I just want to say hello, I'm not going to ask her for every personal detail of her life."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
The injured woman was finishing her ginger ale when she saw the sisters approach. "Rose, I'd like to introduce you to my sister, Susan Cartwright."
"Younger sister," the redhead corrected. She held her hand out. "I've heard a lot about you, Rose. It's nice to finally meet you." Truth be told, Susan had grilled both her mother and aunt in search of information about the mysterious woman. She looked at the row of stitches and tsked. "Such a shame, such a pretty face."
"Susan, I think Alexandra is around here somewhere. You haven't seen her in a while."
Ronnie's attempt to get her sister away failed. "No, you go ahead, Sis. I'll stay here and chat with Rose." She picked up the empty glass that Rose had set down on the coffee table. "That's going to leave a ring. Ronnie, don't you have any coasters?"
"Of c-" Out of the corner of her eye she caught the ashamed look on her guest's face. It was only then that it occurred to Ronnie that Rose might not be used to using coasters. "Actually, I think they're all being used."
"Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter. Maria can get the rings out later." Susan crossed in front of the chair-bound woman and sat demurely on the coffee table, a much more comfortable position in which to interrogate her unknowing victim. "So tell me, Rose, how do you know Ronnie?"
"I um…" Green eyes looked up to blue, pleading for help.
"She was a sorority sister at Pi Epsilon Gamma." The dark haired woman blurted.
"Really?" Susan looked from Rose to her sister and back again. "But you look so much younger than Ronnie."
"Um…I skipped a couple of grades in school," the young woman said.
"Oh, that's nice. Still, you must have been a freshman when Ronnie was in her senior year."
"I was," Rose replied, still exchanging looks of desperation with her friend. She wasn't sure the exact reason for the lie but understood that there was no way to go back now.
"So where are you from?"
"Oh, well…I grew up in and around Albany." She was afraid of lying and mentioning a city that the worldly redhead would be familiar with.
"Really? Well, Ronnie and I went to Saint Sebastian's Academy."
"Home of the Tigers," Rose offered, drawing a smile from Susan. She was now grateful for the hours spent at the library reading the local newspaper.
"Yes. I was in the head cheerleader the year we went to the state championships."
"Which sport?"
"Well, basketball of course," the redhead said, her eyebrows rising slightly. "I'm surprised you didn't know that. Ronnie played…" She looked at her sister quizzically.
"I played guard," Ronnie said, silently wishing someone, anyone would come by to distract Susan.
"Yeah, that's right. You were all-conference that year, weren't you?"
"All-state."
"All-state," the redhead repeated, not particularly worried about that detail. "Anyway, enough about Ronnie. So what happened to you? I heard you were in a car accident."
"Actually I was hit by a car."
"You mean you were walking and got hit?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, that's terrible. So are you paralyzed or something?"
"Susan," Ronnie admonished. "Her left ankle and both her legs are broken."
"Oh, that must hurt quite a bit, huh?"
"Well…yeah." The honey haired woman couldn't figure out why anyone would ask such a silly question. "My legs were broken very badly."
"That's a real shame. Well at least you're lucky enough to have Ronnie taking care of you."
"Very lucky," Rose agreed. "I don't know what I would have done without her." She gave a smile to her friend, an action not unnoticed by Susan. The redhead stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Well, if you two would excuse me, I have to mingle. It was nice meeting you, Rose. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."
"Nice to meet you too."
"Ronnie, can you help me in the kitchen for a moment?" Susan asked in a sing-song voice, the kind that always grated on her older sister's nerves.
"Actually-"
"It'll only take a minute." She grabbed the velvet covered elbow and tugged Ronnie away from Rose and into the kitchen, leaving the younger woman alone to her thoughts.
The caterers and Maria were occupying the kitchen, affording them no privacy. Susan spotted the laundry room door. "In here."
"You don't want to go in there," Ronnie warned, but it was too late. Her younger sister opened the door to reveal an annoyed pile of orange and white fluff.
"Mrrow!"
"You have a cat?"
"Well don't just stand there. She'll get out." Ronnie gave her younger sister a shove and shut the door behind them.
"Does Mother know you have a cat?"
"She will about twenty seconds after you leave this room," she said knowingly. "So what did you want to talk about, as if I didn't already know?"
"She wasn't a sorority sister. I'd bet my Bentley that she never even went to Dartmouth." Susan leaned against the closed door, a cheshire smile crossing her lips. "You know what I think, Ronnie?" She continued on without waiting for an answer. "I think this is a repeat of what happened at Stanford."
"You don't know what you're talking about. Rose is just a friend that I'm helping out, that's all."
"Is it? You give her a job, insurance…is she living with you?"
"She's staying with me while she heals."
"Oh, so this is a temporary arrangement?" Susan looked down at the cat desperately trying to get Ronnie's attention. "So is it hers or yours? Or does it belong to both of you?"
"Stop it, Susan. Tabitha is Rose's cat, there's nothing going on between us, and this discussion is over." She reached past her sister and grabbed the door handle.
"Ronnie," She placed her hand on the taller woman's shoulder. "Say what you want but there's more to this than just helping a out a 'friend'." She stressed the last word, making it clear that she didn't believe that was the appropriate title for the honey haired woman.
"Think what you want, but right now there's a room full of people that I need to attend to. And Susan?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think that Jack would be too happy to hear about André, do you?" Ronnie said, playing the only trump card she had on her sister. There was silence in the laundry room for a moment before Susan nodded, accepting the unspoken threat.
"This better not blow up in your face, Ronnie. You can't afford another incident like Christine."
"I know," the raven haired woman said solemnly.
Ronnie spent the rest of the evening keeping her distance from wherever her brother happened to be. Fortunately it appeared that the vain young man had no interest in meeting the woman in the wheelchair. It allowed her to spend most of her time hovering around her guest. The time wore on and the liquor ran low. Ronnie had underestimated her family's ability to consume alcohol. Tommy seemed to be staying away from the booze, his smile and friendly manner remaining constant throughout the festivities. But every time he looked at her, the smile turned to a smug grin which she answered with a menacing glare. One such exchange of looks had her on the verge of exploding when she heard Rose quietly joining in with the rest of the carolers.
"…fa la la la la, la la la la. Tis the sea-son to be jolly, fa la la la la la, la la la la."
"Don we now our gay apparel," Ronnie joined in, lending her rich contralto to Rose's alto
"fa la la la la la, la la la." They sang together. "Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, fa la la la la, la la la la." The song ended far too soon for the raven haired woman as the grandfather clock chimed to announce the late hour. As expected, the music stopped and several guests began to say their good-nights.
"I guess the party is winding down. I'd better go play hostess," Ronnie said, her feelings mixed about the evening. It was nice to see everyone so happy and to be reminded of the holidays past. But Tommy's presence and her mother's comments made her wish that she had insisted on them holding it somewhere else. Still…it would have been nice to share another song with Rose, she lamented as she took her place near the door, pasting a smile on her face and wishing everyone a safe ride home.
It took every ounce of concentration to keep that smile there when Tommy appeared in front of her. "Nice party, Sis."
"Sorry you can't stay longer," she said without a hint of sincerity. "I suppose I'll see you in the office tomorrow?"
"No can do, Ronnie. I'll be in the field all day, but hey, if I get a minute I'll swing by and say hello. Hi, Mother." Beatrice and Elaine appeared, forcing Ronnie to swallow the comment she wanted to say.
"Mother, leaving so soon?"
"It's almost eleven, Veronica. We still have to drop Elaine off at the Hilton."
"I could take Aunt Elaine there," Tommy offered pleasantly.
"Oh, that's so nice of you, dear, but the driver can take her. I wouldn't want to burden you." She kissed her son on the cheek. "He's so much like his father, isn't he, Elaine?"
"Very much," the matriarch's sister agreed, much to Ronnie's annoyance.
"Well at least let me escort you two lovely ladies to your car." He hooked his arm through his mother's. "Night Ronnie, had a good time. We should do this again."
"Good night, Mother," she said, ignoring her brother's comment. She kissed the proffered cheek and stepped back. "Aunt Elaine, it was nice seeing you."
"You too, dear." Tommy and the two women stepped out into the cold air of the night. Ronnie took a deep breath and released it, feeling the heavy blanket of stress that had covered her all evening slip away.
Ronnie checked all the doors and set the alarm system once everyone was gone. "I'm glad that's over." She shut the lights to the Christmas tree off and turned to face Rose. "So that's my family. What do you think?"
"There's a lot of them," Rose replied. "Tyler's nice."
"He's too young to be a snob." Ronnie looked at her carpet. "Look at that. I knew someone would burn it." She scanned the rest of the room looking for damage, then realized that it was far too quiet. "Rose?" She didn't expect to see the sad face looking back at her. "Hey," Long legs crossed the room quickly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I guess I'm just tired, that's all," came the soft reply, although the young woman refused to look at her.
"No, there's more to it than that." Ronnie sat down on the coffee table, her knee touching the right wheel of the chair. "What's going on, Rose? Did someone say or do anything to upset you?"
There was silence for a moment before she received an answer. "Are you embarrassed by me?"
"Why would you say that?"
Rose shrugged. "I don't know, never mind."
"No." She reached out and placed her hand on the smaller one. "Is this because I lied to Susan?" The quick look away gave her the answer. "Rose, I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of you."
"Then why did you make up that story about me being a sorority sister?" Green eyes looked at her, revealing the confusion and hurt.
"I don't know," Ronnie sighed. "I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by you. If anything I'm embarrassed by my family." She pulled her hand back and ran her long fingers through her dark hair. "Susan didn't believe me anyway." Realizing that she still owed an explanation, she continued. "I guess I just figured it was easier."
"Then telling them the truth? That I'm just a poor bum with nowhere else to stay?" Rose turned her head away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears in check.
"No, that's not it at all." She reached out and captured the young woman's chin with her fingers. "You're here because I want you to be here, not because there's nowhere else for you to stay," she said emphatically. "My family wouldn't understand that. I'm sorry if my attempt to protect you made you feel that I was embarrassed by you." She released Rose's chin and looked down. Fucked up again, she thought to herself. "You know how everyone acted toward you because you were in a wheelchair?"
"Yeah?"
"If they knew that you didn't come from money, it would have been much worse. You would have been the topic of conversation instead of the hors d'oeuvres."
"So instead of being the cripple, I would have been the poor cripple living off you," the young woman clarified.
Ronnie chewed her lower lip, trying to think of a way to deny the truth in Rose's words. Finally she gave a defeated nod. "That's how they would have seen it, yes, but that's not how I see it and that's all that matters." She patted Rose's hand and stood up. "Right now I think we'd better let Tabitha out before she decides to claw her way through the door."
The clock on the stand next to the bed read 12:15 by the time Rose was changed out of the blue dress and back into the Dartmouth nightshirt. Pacing back and forth across the bed was Tabitha, still loudly protesting her time in confinement and demanding extra attention. Ronnie helped the young woman into bed and adjusted the pillows. "All set?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Rose looked around. "Do you know where my Percocet is? I thought it was on the stand but I don't see it."
"Sure do." Ronnie headed into the bathroom. "I put it here so Tyler wouldn't find it," she called out. Rose heard the medicine cabinet open and poured herself a cup of water in preparation. The sound of items being shoved back and forth on the shelves caused her to turn her head in the direction of the bathroom.
"Is something wrong?" She was answered with the continued moving about of items followed by the slamming of the medicine cabinet. "Ronnie?"
The raven haired woman exited the bathroom, her face an unreadable mask. "Someone took it."
"The Percocet is gone?" The throbbing in Rose's legs that had begun earlier seemed to intensify at the news. Ronnie began pacing back and forth between the bed and the desk, her anger rising with each step.
"Tommy. I'll bet you anything it was him. I can't fucking believe he did that." Her hands balled up into fists and her jaw was visibly clenched. "Bastard comes into my home and does this to you. He had to know those were for you, your name was on the bottle. What kind of asshole takes medicine away from someone who so obviously needs it?"
"You don't know for sure that it was him."
"Oh yes I do. I can feel it." Her leather chair got in the way of her pacing and she gave it a hard shove. "Unbefuckinglievable."
"Hey..." Rose said softly, reaching out and putting her hand on Ronnie's forearm, feeling the muscles bunched up beneath the skin. She let her thumb slip to the soft underside of the angry woman's arm and began gently rubbing. "There's nothing you can do about it now."
Ronnie's fury was close to the breaking point when she felt the soft touch. For reasons she couldn't explain, the anger seemed to dissipate, the tensed muscles relaxing under the soothing motion of Rose's thumb. She nodded in agreement and tried to think of a solution to their immediate problem. "I'll call the doctor. Maybe she can give you a new prescription." She headed to her desk and grabbed the thick phone book. "I'm sure there's a twenty-four hour pharmacy somewhere." Ronnie flipped through the yellow pages, tearing several of them in the process with her desperation. "Doctors, see Physicians. Damn it, why can't they make it easy to find?"
"Ronnie..."
"Barnes...Barnes...there's no Barnes listed. I'll try the hospital." More pages flipped, more torn.
"Ronnie..."
"It'll be all right, Rose. We'll get a new prescription and you'll be all set in no time."
"Ronnie!"
"What?" She finally looked up from her frantic searching.
"Stop."
"But-"
"It's too late now to do anything. I'll have to wait until morning."
"Rose, you can't wait until morning." She looked back down at the yellow pages. "Look, there's an all-night pharmacy less than five miles from here."
"You can't go out now."
"Sure I can. I can be there and back within a half hour." She reached for the phone.
"Ronnie, no." She shifted, well aware of the pain in her legs. "It's starting to snow out there."
"So? I've driven in snow before." Her hand rested on the phone but didn't pick it up. "Rose, you need the Percocet, you know that. How are you going to make it through the night without it?"
"I'll have to manage. Ronnie, I don't want you to drive tonight. It's snowing and you've been drinking."
"I haven't had that much. I'm fine to drive." She rose to her feet, fully intending to change into more suitable clothes to go out in instead of her velvet dress.
"I'm sure the person who hit me felt the same way." Rose said quietly, causing Ronnie to stop and look at her, the words hitting home harder than the honey haired woman realized. "I don't ever want you to have to go through that."
Even though Ronnie knew she was unable to argue the point, she hesitated before lowering her head. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could take a cab," she offered.
"No. It's too late. Please, I can make it through one night." Even as she said the words, Rose wasn't all that sure. The pain had been steadily increasing and she really wished she had a pill at that moment. "Maybe you have some Tylenol or Advil?"
"You know that won't touch the pain."
"It's better than nothing."
Ronnie left and returned a minute later with several bottles of over-the-counter pain killers from her medicine cabinet. While upstairs collecting them, she also grabbed her sweats and a tee-shirt to sleep in, knowing that the couch would be her bed tonight. She went into the bathroom and changed while Rose sifted through the various products promising to relieve pain and took three pills. "You need anything else?" Ronnie asked when she returned.
"No, I think I'm all set." She reached for the covers but her benefactor was faster.
"I got it. Move, Tabitha." The feline protested but moved out of the way. Ronnie tucked the blanket around Rose's body. "There you go."
"Thanks." The orange and white cat jumped back up and resumed her position on the bed.
"If you need anything, I'll be out on the couch."
"Oh Ronnie, you don't have to do that. I'm sure your bed is much more comfortable."
"No, really, the couch is fine. I'll leave the door open in case fuzzball needs to get out." She reached over and petted the purring feline. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, I think I'm all set."
"Okay then, I guess it's time to say good night."
"Good night, Ronnie."
"Good night, Rose." She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in the blanket before heading to the door. "Remember, if you need anything, just call out. I'm a light sleeper."
"I will," the young woman promised as the light was shut off and Ronnie left the room.
Accidental Love Ó 1998 B L Miller. Do not distribute or copy without permission of the author except for personal use.