Swirling memories of Christmases past danced in the wealthy woman's dreamscape; presents wished for and received, laughter and merriment, wrapping paper ripped apart in anticipation of the treasures hidden within. The sound of someone crying slowly broke through the fog, pulling Ronnie away from her childhood and back to the present. Her eyes opened to the darkness of night and it took her a moment to realize where she was and what she was hearing. "Rose," she whispered to herself, shaking off the weight of sleep and getting up.
"Rose?" She called from the doorway.
"Did I wake you? I'm sorry," the young woman choked, grateful that the darkness kept her tears hidden from her friend's gaze.
"I knew the stuff I had wouldn't do any good," Ronnie said as she entered the room and sat down on the bed. "You want me to run out now? I'm completely sober."
Rose shook her head. "No, please don't leave." The pain was practically unbearable but the thought of suffering through it without Ronnie was even worse. "Please." She reached out and gripped the larger hand with her own. "Can you...can you stay here with me?" There was a shift in weight as the taller woman slipped under the covers.
"I'm right here." Ronnie moved as close as she dared, telling herself that it was for Rose's comfort and not her own. She was surprised when she felt the soft cheek press up against her shoulder.
"Is this all right?" the young woman whispered. Ronnie felt the tears soak through her cotton tee and realized that Rose must have been crying for quite a while before she had been awakened.
"It's fine," she answered, moving a bit closer.
"It hurts," Rose admitted, lifting her head to allow Ronnie's arm to slip underneath. They shifted their bodies into more comfortable positions, as comfortable as they could considering that the injured woman couldn't roll onto her side because of her broken legs. Ronnie managed to bury her face into the soft golden hair, breathing in the gentle scent. Rose found herself snuggled into the crook of the older woman's shoulder, a place far more comfortable to her than the softest pillow could ever be. In Ronnie's arms she felt safe, protected, cared for. The throbbing pain was still there, yet somehow it seemed bearable now. Within moments both women were fast asleep.
Rose awoke to the sound of Ronnie clacking away on the computer. "Good morning," she yawned, snuggling back into the warmth of her pillow.
"Morning. Your pills are there on the stand." The executive stopped typing and turned around to face her. It was then that Rose noticed that Ronnie was dressed for work, a tailored grey skirt and blazer combination accented by a cream colored blouse.
"You went out already?" The young woman sat up, clearly surprised.
"I called the hospital as soon as I woke up and explained the situation to them. They had a prescription waiting for you at the pharmacy there." Ronnie took a sip of her coffee. "Then it was just a matter of running out and picking it up." She turned and pressed a few more keys. "I've got to get going. Do you need anything before I go?"
"No, I'm sure Karen will be here soon. Is Maria here?"
"Yeah, she got here about a half hour ago. I'll let her know you're awake." Ronnie stood up and shut the computer off. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?"
"No, really, I'm all set. You have a good day at work. Do you think Tommy will be there?"
"I doubt it. He said something last night about not being in the office today." A flash of anger over last night's events clouded her features. "He'd better not show up either." She reached over and gave Tabitha a quick pet. "My office number is two on the speed dial if you want to give me a call."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you or anything." Rose silently wished that Ronnie would give her a hug goodbye but couldn't bring herself to ask for one.
"If you feel like calling, you do it. Don't worry about bothering me because you won't." She hesitated for a moment. "It's kinda nice to hear a friendly voice in the middle of the day."
"Okay then. I'll call you later." The words made Ronnie smile, which in turn made Rose smile.
It was late afternoon when the door to Ronnie's office opened and Susan entered, carrying a manila folder. "I was right," the redhead said triumphantly as she tossed the folder onto the desk.
"You were right about what?" Ronnie asked disinterestedly, not bothering to turn away from her computer.
"Your guest." She picked up the folder and opened it, reviewing the information she had acquired. "Rose Grayson graduated from Albany High School. There's no record of her ever attending college anywhere, owning a credit card, she doesn't even have a driver's license."
Ronnie stood up quickly, sending her chair rolling back as she grabbed the folder out of Susan's hands. "You investigated her?"
"I had to," the younger sister protested. "You obviously believe everything she says."
"And what does it matter to you?"
"Ronnie, she obviously has nothing and saw a good meal ticket."
"You have no idea what you're talking about." She slammed the folder down on her desk. "Rose isn't using me."
"No? Do you know where she was employed before you gave her a job?"
"Money Slasher, I know. She was a cashier there."
"A part time cashier," Susan corrected, "making minimum wage. From what I can tell, before that she bussed tables at a diner."
"What is your point?"
"My point is why are you doing this? Why are you letting some poor white trash live off of you?"
"Don't...you...EVER call her that again!" Ronnie roared. "You have no idea what you're talking about and as far as 'white trash' goes, have you taken a good look at Tommy lately?"
"You're trying to change the subject."
"Am I? You're judging her because she doesn't have the money that you and I do. How fair is that?" She walked over to the window and looked out at the dreary grey sky. "Did you take the time to talk to her? To find out what kind of a person she is? No. Not everyone who doesn't have money is scum and not everyone who is rich is a good person."
"I'm not saying that."
"You're not? You find out that she wasn't born to privilege and right away you assume she's a gold digger."
"Then what is she, Ronnie? Help me understand because right now I don't." Susan challenged. "Try looking at it from the family's point of view. A woman we've never heard of suddenly moves into your home, complete with a cat and obvious medical problems and you expect us to just sit back and not be concerned?"
"Yes. It's my life, Susan. Who stays in my home is my concern, not yours. I didn't run an investigation on Jack when you announced that you were going to marry him."
"Are you planning on marrying her?"
"You still won't accept that she's just a friend, will you?" She crossed the room and flopped down on the black leather couch. "Why does it bother you so much?"
"I just don't want to see you hurt...again."
"This isn't like Christine, I told you that before."
"You may not think so, but from what I see-"
"Then you'd better look again. Rose doesn't want anything from me. She's just a friend. Stop trying to make this into something more than it is." She kicked her shoes off and tucked her feet up under her legs. "You don't know her, Susan. You don't know what she's like. Last night her bottle of Percocet was stolen. I offered to go get more but she didn't want me to. Does that sound like someone who's only interested in my money? She hasn't once asked me to buy her a damn thing. Everything I do, I do because I want to, not because she asks me to." She waved her hand dismissively. "You don't understand, forget it."
"Look, you're an adult. You have to make your own decisions. I ran every check I could on her today. All the info is in that file. Do with it what you want." Susan headed for the door. "Ronnie, don't forget dinner tomorrow at Mother's."
"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," she said sarcastically. "Did you fax her a copy of your precious report? Or did you just take an ad out in the Times Useless?"
"That wasn't necessary, Ronnie. I'm just looking out for you."
"Last time I looked, I was taking care of myself just fine. I don't recall asking you to baby-sit me."
"Fine. Do what you want, you will anyway." Susan left, not bothering to close the door. Laura, who had been listening to the raised voices, discreetly closed it and returned to her desk, knowing that the intercom would buzz in a few seconds.
"Laura, hold my calls." A second later, line two lit up and the young administrative assistant would have bet her entire paycheck that she knew who her boss was calling.
"Cartwright Residence," Maria answered.
"Hi Maria, can I speak with Rose please?" Ronnie was still sitting on her couch in the office, the block multi-line phone sitting on the floor next to her. It was times like this that she appreciated the extra length in the grey phone cord, even if it did get tangled up in her feet under the desk from time to time.
"Hello?"
"Hi there." At the sound of Rose's voice, Ronnie smiled, the stress of her conversation with Susan melting away. "How was Judge Judy today?"
"Oh, you wouldn't believe the cases she had."
"Tell me about them," she urged, settling back into a comfortable position. Ronnie couldn't explain it but the sound of Rose's voice had a soothing effect on her and at the moment she needed that comfort.
"Almost finished," Doctor Barnes said, removing the last of the stitches on Rose's cheek. She stepped back and threw the rubber gloves in the red waste receptacle. "Looks good. I don't think you'll have a scar. Remember to keep it out of the sun until it's fully healed. Not that that's a problem this time of year." She made a notation on Rose's chart. "You're recovering splendidly. At the rate you're going, I see no reason why you won't be on crutches by late Spring."
"Late Spring?"
"Late Spring," the doctor repeated. "Your body suffered a severe trauma. Your ankle alone was broken in seven places. It's going to take time to heal. Understand this, Miss Grayson, we're talking months of therapy, not weeks." The young woman's heart sank at the words. She knew it would take time, just not that long. How would Ronnie react? Surely that would be too long to stay at the place she was quickly thinking of as home.
Despite Rose's fears, the older woman took the news well, seeming more concerned about the progress of the recovery than the time frame. Although it caused some discomfort, she insisted that she could ride in the back seat of the Cherokee by sitting sideways, thus allowing her legs to rest on the deep grey velour. Ronnie did her best to avoid potholes, but there were still a few times when she looked into the rear view mirror and saw Rose wince as they passed over a particularly rough spot of road. "You know I could stay home tonight," she said as they turned onto Cartwright Drive.
"No, your mother and sister are expecting you. I'll be fine."
"But what if you need to use the bedpan or something? What if you need a drink?" She pulled the Jeep into the driveway and turned off the ignition.
"I'll go before you leave. If you fill that pitcher on the stand, I'm sure I'll be fine."
Ronnie was late arriving at her mother's condo. She blamed it on the Friday rush hour traffic but the truth was that she found it difficult to leave Rose alone. A full pitcher of water, cans of soda cooling in the ice bucket, various snacks all within easy reach of the injured woman...she left nothing to chance, even going so far as to write down her mother's phone number just in case Rose needed anything.
The small round dining table had just enough room for everyone. Ronnie found herself seated between Elaine and Susan. It was bad enough to be a lefty stuck next to a right-handed person but the pungent smell of her aunt's perfume threatened to take away Ronnie's appetite. "Smell's wonderful," Susan said as the platter of meat was placed on the table.
"Thank you, dear," Beatrice replied as if she were the one who had spent hours preparing the food instead of her part-time helper. "You know your sister always enjoys a good pork roast."
"Yes I do," Ronnie readily agreed, reaching for the platter.
"Hey, leave some for the rest of us."
"Now Susan, don't you worry about it," her mother chastised. "There's plenty for everyone." She turned to her eldest daughter. "You just take as much as you want, dear. I'm sure you must be tired of those reheated dinners that Maria makes for you."
Ronnie poured the steaming gravy over her pork. "Maria's a great cook, Mother, you know that."
"I know that when I ran the house she worked until eight o'clock each night. I never had to worry about dirty dishes piling up until morning."
"I have a dishwasher."
"Humph, another appliance purchased so she could work less, no doubt." Beatrice ladled some gravy onto her plate. "You know you spoil her."
"I know," Ronnie grinned, drawing a smirk from her sister and an annoyed frown from her mother.
"First it was every weekend off, then it was shorter hours. At the rate she's going, you're going to pay her to stay home just like those welfare people."
"Mother, she puts in a full work-week just like anyone else."
"I'm sure she's busier than ever with your friend there," Susan chimed in.
"Yes, how is that poor dear?" Elaine asked. "She seemed like such a nice girl. What was her name? Rachel, Ruth..."
"Rose," Ronnie corrected.
"Ah yes," the visiting relative replied, not at all interested in the correct name. "Well anyway, she seemed like a nice girl. Pass the corn, please. Bea, did you see in the paper where they're rabble rousing about health care again?"
"You'd think the president would have better things to worry about," the matriarch replied. "Jack, do you know anyone without insurance?"
"Of course not, Mother," he replied, learning long ago exactly what answers his mother-in-law wanted to hear.
"See, that's my point exactly. They need to worry about more important things like reforming the tax code or bringing prayer back to school." Beatrice took a sip of wine. "I'm telling you, that's where the country went wrong. There was a time when children respected their elders. Now I can't get the paperboy to leave the paper between the doors when it's raining. And he wonders why I don't tip him. Tips should be earned, but nowadays they seem to think that they deserve it just for doing their jobs."
Throughout the rest of dinner and into the after-dinner drinks, Ronnie tried to pay attention to the conversation but found her mind slipping back to thoughts of the honey haired woman waiting for her at home. She wondered if she would sleep on the couch or if Rose would let her share the bed again. She hoped the latter. Ronnie's mind was so far away that she never heard her mother address her and it was only Susan kicking her under the table that brought her back to the present. "I'm sorry, what?"
Beatrice gave an annoyed huff. "I asked you if you planned on coming here for Christmas. Honestly, Ronnie."
"Sorry, I was just thinking about something."
"Or someone," Susan said so quietly that only her sister could hear it.
"Actually I thought I'd spend Christmas at home this year," she replied, shooting a glare at her younger sister.
"Oh good. Elaine asked me to join her on a cruise but I didn't want you to have nowhere to go."
"What about Tommy?" Susan asked.
"He said he had other plans this year. Something about going up to the mountains with some friends of his. You and Jack have the boys so the only one I was worried about was your sister."
"I'll be fine, Mother." Ronnie looked at her watch. "I didn't realize the time. I need to swing by the office and pick up some files before it gets too late." She stood up and tossed her napkin on the now-empty plate. "Dinner was wonderful, as always."
"That's my daughter, always working," Beatrice said. "Perhaps someday you'll find the time to settle down and make me some grandchildren."
Ronnie ignored the jibe and donned her jacket. "I really need to get going." She glanced out the window. "It's beginning to come down really hard out there."
"Of course, of course. You go work on making money. I guess I'll have to depend on Jack and Susan to give me a granddaughter."
"I guess so," the raven haired woman said as she reached for the door handle. "Jack, you'd better be careful on the way home, looks like sleet. Goodnight everyone."
"Hey, you're still up," Ronnie said when she walked into Rose's room.
"Yeah, it's only ten."
"Anything good on?"
"Not really." Rose used the remote to mute the television before patting the space on the bed next to her. "So how did your dinner go?"
"Draining," the older woman sighed, taking the offered seat on the adjustable bed and leaning back into a comfortable position. "Now I remember why I hate family dinners so much."
"Why's that?"
"Everyone talks about nothing. They went on and on about things they have no control over like taxes and tipping. Not to mention Mother started in again about my not giving her grandchildren."
"Oh, that's too bad. Does she do that a lot?"
"Every opportunity she can," Ronnie shrugged. "Come on, let's see what's on TV."
They settled back and watched a crime drama, both guessing who the murderer was long before the cops figured it out. When it was over Rose found herself unable to stifle a yawn. "Sorry, must be more tired than I thought," she apologized when Ronnie pressed the button on the remote to shut the television off.
"That's okay. It is getting late. I guess I'd better get going and let you get some sleep." She made a move to get off the bed only to be stopped by Rose's hand on her arm.
"Are you going upstairs?"
"No, I'll probably crash on the couch, why?"
"You know, it is a big bed and I'm sure it's more comfortable than the couch is. You could stay here." Rose bit her lower lip. "I mean, if you want to, I don't mind."
Ronnie hesitated for only a second. "Well, I wouldn't want to crowd you or anything."
"You haven't yet."
"It is more comfortable than the couch...but only if you're sure." Truth be told, she could fall asleep in either place, but one definitely was preferred over the other.
"I'm sure." Rose pulled one of the two pillows out from behind her head. "Here, I'll even share."
"Let me change and get the light."
A few minutes later Ronnie was changed into her sweats and a cotton tee-shirt. She shut the light off and scooted under the blanket, consciously keeping her body from moving over and pressing against Rose no matter how much it wanted to. Her resolve lasted only until the moment sleep overtook her. Then her body took over and did what it wanted so do desperately when she was awake.
Half-asleep, Rose woke up completely when she felt the strong arm rest across her stomach. Ronnie gave a soft sigh of contentment in her sleep and snuggled closer, her warm breath caressing the smaller woman's shoulder. Rose smiled in the dark and brought her left hand down to rest atop the larger one. It should have seemed strange to sleep next to someone after spending the first twenty-six years of her life sleeping alone but it didn't. Lying next to Ronnie felt natural, comfortable, right. She believed that the older woman truly cared for her, something Rose never really felt before. It filled her with a sense of...well, whatever it was she couldn't quite name but it was a wonderful feeling just the same. Another sigh and the older woman moved even closer, her chin resting just above Rose's shoulder and her face buried in the reddish-blond hair. Time ticked by while the young woman enjoyed the sensations, the warmth of Ronnie's hand through the cotton nightshirt, the gentle breaths tickling her ear, the feeling of safety and security that covered her like no blanket ever could. Rose had friends growing up, playmates, girls to share secrets with, but she never felt toward them what she felt toward Ronnie. Her feelings ran deeper than anything she had known before and although it should have scared her, it didn't. She turned her head to the side and placed a gentle kiss on Ronnie's forehead. "Sweet dreams," she whispered before closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her.
The rusted out station wagon chugged its way up Morris Street. Delores Bickering spotted the address she was looking for and double parked in front of it. She had planned on visiting her sister but decided that since she was in the area anyway it wouldn't hurt to stop in and see Rose, especially since she hadn't received a reply, or a check, from the young woman yet. She rolled down the window and reached for the outside handle, the only way to open the car door, and stepped out. She walked down the steps leading to the basement apartment, frowning when she saw a Hispanic couple milling about inside. She knocked on the door. "Does Rose Grayson live here?"
"No, we just moved in. You might want to check with Cecil. He lives upstairs."
"What the fuck you want?" Cecil asked when he opened the door.
"I'm looking for Rose Grayson. I thought she lived here."
"Moved out," he grunted. "Damn bitch didn't give me no notice either."
"Do you know where she moved to?"
"Who the fuck are you?" He looked at Delores suspiciously.
"I'm her mother," she lied.
"I don't know and I don't give a shit. If you want to know, you should ask the bitch that was here. Hang on, I got her name here somewhere. I wrote it down in case the check she gave me bounced." He went back into the apartment, leaving her standing outside. He returned a minute later with a Post-It note with scribbling on it. "Here, that's the name and address of the bitch that moved her stuff out."
Delores took the paper and looked at it. V. Cartwright, One Cartwright Drive, Loudonville. "Did you get a phone number?"
"Do I look like the fucking information booth?" he snarled. "That's all I know. Now unless you're interested in renting the third floor, you're wasting my fucking time." He shut the door without waiting for an answer. Delores walked back to her car, puzzled. Anyone who lived on a street with the same name as theirs was no doubt rich, and the fact that it was in Loudonville, where no one on welfare could afford to live was even more intriguing. She decided that she needed to find out more. She adjusted the pillow on the front seat, the only thing keeping the worn springs from pressing into her ass, and turned the key several times before the twenty year old station wagon sputtered to life.
She stopped at the nearest convenience store to gas up the car, not bothering to pull up to the furthest pump. Let them wait, she thought to herself while putting the nozzle into the tank. She put exactly five dollars worth of gas into the tank before entering the store. Once inside, she picked up a street map of Albany County and headed for the back where the soda coolers were lined up. While opening the case with one hand, Delores used her other to stuff the street map into her pocketbook. She approached the pimply faced clerk with a bottle of Pepsi in her hand. "Seventy-five cents for the soda and five for the gas," the clerk said. Delores pulled a worn bill out of her jacket pocket along with a one dollar food stamp. The clerk nodded and returned her a quarter, completely unaware of the shoplifting. As she always did, Delores couldn't resist smirking as she exited the store, having once again gotten away with getting something for nothing.
The station wagon sputtered and worked its way through the congested traffic of Albany into the quieter suburb of Loudonville. In the village where the average income was well into six digits, the rusted out Ford with fake wooden panels stood out amongst the newer vehicles in Ronnie's neighborhood. Delores made two wrong turns before finding Cartwright Drive, blaming both of them on the street map and not on herself. Deciding that the large mansion at the beginning of the street had to be number one, she pulled the uninspected and uninsured car into the long driveway, stopping it just behind the bright blue Jeep Cherokee. She removed the key from the ignition and waited for a moment while the car continued to run before it finally gave a dying gasp and went silent. Drips of oil stained the driveway as she rolled down the window to reach the door handle. Yup, no doubt about it, this had to be number one Cartwright Drive. If Rose knew the person who owned this place, well that certainly was worth investigating, Delores reasoned. She spotted the shoveled flagstone walkway that circled the lawn and led to the large double-door entrance and followed it.
Ronnie was working on her computer when she heard the rattling sound of a car pulling into her driveway. A quick look at the bed confirmed that Rose was still sound asleep. She stood up and walked to the window, blue eyes widening at the sight of the brown, white, and rust colored station wagon sitting in her driveway. "What the hell...?" The window rolled down and an arm reached out for the handle. She watched as a rotund woman, poorly dressed, stepped out of the car and looked at the house. Ronnie's first thought was that it was either a lost traveler or one of those annoying door-to-door salespeople. She took another look at the peacefully sleeping woman and decided to intercept the unexpected arrival before the doorbell could wake Rose.
Ronnie opened the door and realized that this was no door-to-door salesperson. A black knit cap with a pompom at the tip covered the head of a woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties while a dirty yellow jacket littered with various stains covered the upper body. She held an oversized purse in hands that bore no gloves and her feet were covered with a pair of sneakers which long ago stopped being considered white. The dark haired executive looked down at the shorter woman and frowned. "May I help you?"
"Um, yes," Delores said, looking up with surprise. "How did you know-"
"I heard your...car park in my driveway. What do you want?"
"I'm looking for someone and I was told that you would know where she is. Her name is Rose Grayson."
"Who told you that I know where she is?" Ronnie now knew who the woman standing before her was and she wasn't the least bit happy with the revelation. She had promised to bring Rose's checkbook to the hospital but with the unexpected release and everything that had happened since, there hadn't been any more mention of the subject. As far as Ronnie knew, Rose hadn't mailed out anything since coming to her home. So how did this leech find her?
"I stopped at her old apartment and they told me that you paid her rent." Delores shivered and looked pointedly at the door. "Can I come in? It's pretty cold out here, you know."
Ronnie mentally cursed whoever it was that created manners and stepped back, holding the door open. "Come in, Miss...?"
"Bickering, Delores Bickering," the rotund woman said, walking past the executive and pulling her knit cap off to reveal straight brown hair that looked in need of a good cleaning. "So you're V. Cartwright?"
"Yes," Ronnie said without bothering to elaborate further. Now she was faced with a moral dilemma. She could pretend that Rose wasn't here and send Delores packing, but that risked upsetting the young woman. Then again, she wasn't sure she wanted to let the vulture walking into her living room near her companion. Reluctantly she accepted that the decision wasn't really hers to make. "Wait here."
Ronnie crossed the room and entered the office, making sure to close the door behind her. She knelt onto the bed and placed her hand on the sleeping woman's shoulder. "Rose...Rose honey wake up."
"Hmm?" Green eyes opened and blinked wearily.
"We have company, you have to get up."
"Company?" Rose gave a healthy yawn and rubbed her eyes. "Who?"
"Delores." Ronnie did her best not to let her annoyance show through.
"Delores? Bickering? Here?"
"Delores. Bickering. Here." She watched as the words sank in and Rose's demeanor changed. "Hey, if you don't want to see her..."
"No, if she went to all this trouble to find me then I owe her at least seeing her."
"Rose," she took the younger woman's chin in her hand. "You don't owe her a thing. Whatever she did for you in the past you've already paid back and then some, I'm sure." She gentled her tone, realizing that it wasn't helping. "I'm sorry, I know you feel you owe her and I shouldn't be telling you how to think or feel." She withdrew her hand and sat back. "I just don't like to see you being used and I'm afraid that's exactly why Delores is here." She picked up the brush and began to straighten out Rose's sleep-mussed hair.
"Ronnie?"
"Mm?"
"Would it be too much to ask if I could borrow the shirt you wore yesterday? I can cover the rest of my body with a blanket."
"It'll be a little big on you but it's fine with me." She leaned back and used her long arm to pluck the grey button down shirt from it's position across the back of the chair. Rose pulled off the nightshirt at the same time and when Ronnie straightened up she was greeted to the sight of what she considered to be the most perfect set of breasts. She reluctantly tried to keep herself from staring by concentrating on helping Rose get her arms through the sleeves. "I'll let you button it up while I get the chair ready." she said, abruptly leaving the bed and retrieving the folded up wheelchair from the corner. A few minutes later Rose was comfortably settled in her chair, the afghan tucked neatly around her legs and hips. "You ready?" Ronnie asked.
"Yeah," came the half-hearted reply. The last person she wanted to see was Delores. She didn't reply to the last letter and had no doubt in her mind that the former foster mother would bring up the subject of money, especially after finding out where she was living. "Ronnie?"
"Yes?"
"Could you...I mean, if you don't mind, would you...stay with me?" She hoped Ronnie's presence would keep Delores from asking about money, but more than that, she wanted the emotional support that she knew her friend would give. She smiled when she felt the warm hand squeeze her shoulder.
"I'll be right there, don't you worry," Ronnie said.
Delores turned from her inspection of the various ornaments still dangling from the streamers and gasped when she saw Rose in a wheelchair. "What happened to you?"
"I was hit by a car," the young woman replied. "How did you know where I was?"
"Your landlord told me," she said smugly. "So did you sue the guy who hit you?"
"The police don't know who it was. He took off after the accident."
"They couldn't find him? That's a shame. If they found him, you could have sued. I know a good lawyer that'll help you if you need him. He represented me when I slipped in some water in the supermarket. Got me almost four thousand dollars." Delores stepped into the sunken part of the living room and flopped down on the leather couch, drawing a disapproving look from Ronnie. "So come tell me what you've been doing. I haven't heard from you in almost two months now." She reached into her oversized pocketbook and pulled out a worn vinyl cigarette case and lighter, lighting one up without a thought.
"I don't allow smoking in my home," Ronnie said.
"Oh, don't worry, I have my own ashtray." Delores replied as she pulled a small brown one out of her purse.
"No, I don't allow smoking in my home," the raven haired woman stressed, not caring a bit about the glare she received from the large visitor, but caring a great deal that Rose didn't make a sound of objection.
"Oh, that's fine." Delores took one long drag before butting out the cigarette. "So Rose..." She exhaled, filling the air around her with the translucent smoke. "How long are you staying with Miss Cartwright or do you live here now?"
Rose blinked in surprise and realized that she wasn't certain of the answer. She looked to her benefactor, asking the same question with her eyes. Ronnie swallowed, uncertain of how to answer, of what Rose really wanted. There was no doubt in her own mind that she wanted the fair haired woman in her life, and in her home. Did leaving the decision up to her mean that Rose wanted to continue living here too? Ronnie inhaled deeply and took a chance, letting her heart guide her answer. "She lives here."
Rose opened her mouth, then closed it, shock taking away her ability to speak for a moment. "Y-yes, that's right." Her voice cracked and she fought to keep a smile off her face. "So, what brings you up to this area? Visiting Isabel again?" she asked, referring to Delores' sister. The rotund woman nodded.
"The Tupperware came in. You know she'll never get around to delivering it to me. If I don't come down and get them she'll end up using them herself or selling them to someone else for the money just like the cookie episode. You remember that, don't you, Rose?"
"Isabel collected all the money for the Girl Scout cookies but didn't have it when it came time to pay for them," Rose explained to Ronnie.
"Sounds like quite a family," the executive said dryly.
"Not to mention that her kids got into them before they were delivered," Delores added, always ready for a chance to run the rest of her family down, even if she were guilty of the same things. "Anyway..." She turned her attention to her former foster daughter. "So what do the doctors say? I hope you went to a real hospital and not just down to the clinic. You know they don't know anything down there. I fought with them for five years over Jimmy and they never did find anything wrong with him," Delores said. Rose nodded politely, thinking to herself that the reason they never found anything wrong with her foster brother was that there never was anything wrong with him. Jimmy was the picture of health during the time that she stayed with them, yet Delores insisted on dragging him from doctor to doctor, insisting that some dreadful rare ailment affected her younger son. "You know he's in college now."
"Really?" Rose didn't think he'd make it through high school. "What's he majoring in?"
"Acting. Someday he'll get his own series just like Seinfeld. He even got an offer to play downtown," she boasted, as if downtown Cobleskill was anything to brag about. "Yup, they're doing Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Andy Gibb played the lead on Broadway, you know."
"Now there's someone to look up to," Ronnie drawled, earning her a slightly raised eyebrow from the honey haired woman. She gave Rose a slight pout but quickly returned to her normal bored expression as Delores continued to ramble on and fill the young woman in on all the trivial events that had happened in her family recently. Eventually, as Ronnie suspected it would, the conversation turned to money.
"You know the state stopped paying for Jimmy when he turned eighteen. It didn't occur to them that I needed that extra money each month for the other kids. One in college and four other kids still in school."
"Doesn't Jimmy help out?" Rose queried.
"He only works weekends at Fred's gas station. He needs that money for gas to get back and forth to school."
"Sounds like Jimmy needs to get another job and help out," Ronnie quipped, earning another disapproving, albeit brief, look from Rose. Delores shifted, focusing her attention on the young woman and wishing that the dark haired woman would go away. To her delight, it was at that moment that Ronnie's bladder demanded attention and she excused herself for a moment. The scheming woman leaned forward in her seat.
"The State doesn't care. The idiot social worker doesn't care either." She paused, sighing for effect. "It's so hard when you're alone, you understand that, don't you, Rose?"
"Yes," she replied. Delores smiled inwardly.
"You know how hard it was when you were there, all the sacrifices I had to make just to keep you and the others out of the state orphanages and group homes." She pleasingly watched Rose nod. The hook was set, now to reel her in, the dumpy woman thought. "You must be getting some kind of disability money, aren't you?"
"Actually, no. I didn't get any benefits at Money Slasher and I haven't applied for anything." Rose's head drooped, a visible expression of her knowledge of where the conversation was going and her inability to speak up and stop it.
"But you're living here. You can't tell me that someone like her lets you live here rent free. You must be paying her something."
"I think that's a matter between Rose and I," Ronnie said as she reentered the room, her tone effectively ending the subject. She didn't miss the quick look of relief passed her way from the grateful honey haired woman. She also didn't miss the way the young woman's shoulder's were slumped.
"Well I don't see what the big deal is. I just asked a simple question." Delores tried to appear hurt, but no one was buying it.
"And it was answered," Ronnie replied firmly as she took her seat. She crossed her arms, making it clear that she wasn't leaving the room again. She had no doubt that if she hadn't returned that the leech would have guilted Rose into giving her money. Ronnie would be damned if she was going to let that happen.
"I think Rose is old enough to speak for herself, don't you?" Delores made no attempt to hide her anger. Her quickly laid plans were beginning to dissolve before her eyes. She had only one shot left. "Rose, I think you should come stay with me until you recover. I always took such good care of you when you were a child."
There it was, the threat was on the table. Delores was making Rose choose between her and Ronnie and the overweight woman was confidant that the quiet child she once knew and controlled would come forth and pick her.
"I...I..." Rose felt the pressure closing in around her. It had been so automatic to do whatever Delores bid for so long. Now she actually had a choice, an option to make up her own mind. Submit to the long standing status quo or plunge forward into the unknown with Ronnie. She lifted her head and gazed into soft blue depths, seeing only warmth and concern. "I...I don't want to leave." She said it to Ronnie just as much as Delores. She watched the executive release a breath and give a small smile. On the other hand, the former foster mother looked furious.
"Rose, I want to talk to you privately, or does she make all your decisions for you
now?" Delores glared at Ronnie.
"Rose is her own woman," the raven haired woman said. "I don't control her, or manipulate her," she accused. Her own temper was rising rapidly and Ronnie's thoughts centered around throwing the fat woman out on her ear and hopefully out of Rose's life.
"Then why don't you let her tell me that for herself?" Delores snarled, visibly upset that her plans were crumbling around her. "You don't know how hard I worked to keep a roof over her head when no one else would."
"You took her in because of the extra money from the State. That's all there is to it." Ronnie stood up and began pacing. "Have you once asked her if there's anything you could do to help her? No, you asked what happened and then went into your own little world of problems, half of which would be solved if you got off your lazy ass and got a job instead of living off of everyone else." She deliberately avoided looking at Rose, certain she would see disapproval in her eyes. She knew she should stop, let her friend fight her own battles, but she'd be damned if she was going to let Delores Bickering bully Rose into giving her one more cent.
"I don't have to listen to this," the large woman said angrily, rising to her feet and retrieving her pocketbook. "Rose, you're letting this bitch control you. You're going to turn your back on me? On the only family you have?" She stepped up onto the main level and headed for the door. "After everything I've done for you."
Rose let a lone tear slip down her cheek. "Wait." She looked up at Ronnie. "Please?"
"Rose," the dark haired woman protested, "you don't have to do this."
"Please, just a few minutes. I'll be all right." She winced inwardly at the hurt look on Ronnie's face but knew she needed to do this.
It went completely against her better judgment but finally Ronnie nodded. "I'll be downstairs." She shot a murderous look at Delores before leaving the room.
"Hrmmpf," Delores grunted as she returned to her seat. "I don't know, Rose. These rich people, they think they can control everyone just because they have money."
"Ronnie's not like that," the young woman protested.
"She won't let you speak for yourself. You're a grown woman. What you do with your money is your business, not hers." She reached into her bag and pulled out her cigarette case. "You'd think you were a child the way she treats you."
"Delores, please don't." Rose pointed at the cigarette case.
"Obviously she doesn't know how to treat guests either," the large woman grumbled, shoving the case back into her purse. "Well, I can't stay long. I have to pick up the Tupperware and hope I have enough gas to get home."
"Delores, you understand I'm not working? I don't have any money."
"Rose, you live here. You can't tell me that if you needed something that she wouldn't help you out," the large woman pointed out the obvious. "You're not going to starve...or run out of gas on some lonely stretch of highway on the way home..." Delores paused for effect. "I remember the time it was snowing and I had to take you to the doctor's for...what was it again?"
"Strep throat," Rose replied sullenly, knowing full well that the older woman remembered.
"That's right. I had to get prescriptions for both you and Jimmy because he hadn't had it yet. I couldn't afford to go to bingo that week because of that, you know."
"I know."
"You know the coverall is worth two hundred fifty dollars and I had just as much chance to win it as anyone else in that room."
"I know," Rose repeated, sinking further and further into the role she knew so well.
"You know how scared little Jessica will get if I don't come home?"
Whatever strength and reserve Rose had crumbled with the last implied threat. Jessica was nine and very much attached to her mother. "How much do you need?"
Delores relaxed against the couch, triumphant. "At least thirty dollars."
"I don't have that much," the young woman lied.
"Well how much do you have?"
Rose thought quickly. "The most I can spare is fifteen dollars."
"Well if that's all you can do then I guess that'll have to do."
"I'll get my checkbook." Hanging her head in defeat, she turned her chair and wheeled her way into the office, returning a few minutes later with the check laying on her lap. Delores already had her coat on.
"Thank you, Rose. I hope to hear from you on Christmas." Delores reached for the check only to have the young woman jerk it out of reach.
"Wait..." she summoned her courage and took a deep breath. "I...I really can't afford to give you any more money after this."
"Fine, I'll remember that if I end up with no food or anything that I shouldn't call you for help." She leaned forward and snatched the check out of Rose's hand. Now having what she came for, Delores was ready to leave, but not without doing her best to reinforce her hold over the young woman. "You just remember that while you're sitting here in all this..." she spread her arms out to encompass the room, "that I struggled and suffered to take care of you for so long." Delores opened the door, letting in the cold air. "I hope you get back on your feet soon, Rose. Perhaps someday you'll stop being so selfish and realize just how much it took for me to keep a roof over your head." The door shut and soon Rose heard the sound of an engine straining to turn over. After a few false starts and a backfire accompanied by a cloud of black smoke from the rusted-out tailpipe, the station wagon backed out of the driveway and headed down the street.
The door to the basement opened and Ronnie appeared, looking about for her unwelcome guest.
"She's gone," Rose said in response to the raised eyebrow. Worried that her benefactor would be upset about the check, she hid the checkbook beneath the cover of the afghan. "Ronnie, I'm sorry about-"
"No, don't worry about it," the older woman replied, cutting off the apology. "You had no way of knowing she'd show up here." She walked over to stand behind the wheelchair. "You hungry?" she asked while hoisting the chair and passenger onto the main level. "Never mind, silly question."
"What can I say? Maria's a great cook," Rose replied. Her beaming smile earned a quick hair tousle from her companion.
"Okay, you head on in and find something on the tube while I see what goodies Maria left for us."
Nothing more was said about Delores Bickering as the day progressed, both women far more interested in laying side by side on the bed and watching television together. It was only after night had fallen and both were settling down to sleep that Rose broached the subject.
"Ronnie?"
"Mmm?"
"Would you be mad at me if I told you that I ended up giving Delores money?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you." Ronnie admitted, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with her hand.
"Disappointed?"
"No," she sighed. "Rose, if I seemed short or aggravated or..."
"Hostile?" the younger woman offered. Ronnie looked at the shadowed form in the dim moonlight and arched an eyebrow.
"I don't think I was hostile, Rose. Personally I think I did a great job of being civil to the witch, especially considering what I really wanted to do was throw her out into the snowbank."
Rose reached out in the darkness and ran her knuckles up and down the forearm that Ronnie was propped up on. "I know you did...and I appreciate it."
"I don't like to see anyone use you, Rose," she whispered. "You deserve better than that." Ronnie hesitated for a moment before continuing. "So how much did she take?"
"Fifteen bucks," came the reply. "But I told her this was the last time," Rose added quickly.
"Have you ever told her that before?"
"No."
"Well then that's a start, anyway." She reached over with her free hand and softly cupped Rose's cheek. "Hey, I understand, I really do. It's hard to say no after saying yes for so long. Look at me and my family."
"So you're really not upset with me?"
Ronnie leaned over and gave her young friend a hug. "I could never be upset with you," she whispered into Rose's ear. She didn't expect to feel arms wrap around her neck and pull her close.
"I don't know what I ever did to deserve a best friend as good as you," the young woman choked as her grip tightened. Ronnie returned the embrace, smiling at first with the feeling of holding Rose. Then memories came unbidden to her mind...a flash of blue flying over the hood and into the windshield, blood pooling on the ground, and a series of lies designed to cover up the truth. The smile faded, replaced with a look of sadness.
"I'm the one that doesn't deserve you," Ronnie whispered. She held on for a moment longer before rolling back to her side of the bed. "It's time for us to get some sleep."
Despite her intentions when she closed her eyes, Ronnie's body betrayed her as it did every night. Just as Rose was drifting off she felt the warm weight of the older woman's arm flop across her stomach and warm breath caressing her shoulder. The honey haired woman smiled and allowed sleep to claim her. Deep in the land of dreams, they let the warmth of each other's bodies fight off the night chill the two and a half century old home couldn't keep at bay.
"Ronnie, got a sec?" Susan asked as she stepped into the office. "There's a claim here that doesn't make any sense."
"Since when do you come to me about something like that?" She didn't bother to look up from the computer screen.
"Since it involves lost materials and equipment totaling over a hundred thousand dollars."
"What?" Ronnie asked incredulously, motioning for her sister to take a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk.
"Orbison Contractors filed a claim for lost equipment and materials from that mini-mall remodeling sites. They say that everything from lumber and tools to a brand new work truck were stolen." She handed the dark haired woman a copy of the multi-page claim form. "Since they had full protection with us, they also are filing for lost wages due to lack of equipment."
"Are you sure this is legit? Maybe they're just trying to put one over for the insurance money." Ronnie flipped through the pages, frowning at each figure. "Did they file a report with the police?"
"Sure did. They found the truck, stripped to the metal out in Arbor Hill."
Ronnie read the report carefully, looking for any clue that it was a fraud. "Does Tommy know about this?"
"No, can't reach him. I've left messages everywhere for him."
"He's probably still drugged up from all the Percocet he stole from my house during the Christmas party," the executive grumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing, never mind." Ronnie's teeth sank into the soft wood of her pencil while she continued to pour over the report. No sign of forced entry, not that much was needed to get past a simple chain link fence surrounding the work site. The truck was a total loss and there was no sign of inflated figures for the missing tools and materials. "I can't see anything out of the ordinary here, Sis. Other than the cost, what is it that's bothering you?"
"I ran a check against the reports we have on file and from what I can see, that project should have been finished or almost close to it. But according to the loss report, they had barely started. I gave Mike Orbison a call and he said that they were at least three weeks away from completion."
"If they were so far away from being finished...." Ronnie looked at the paper again. "Then why was so much stuff there? Look at this...all the large panes of glass, paint, sheet rock, even carpeting. I thought those were the last things to be delivered."
"That's what I thought. Maybe they expected to be finished before this."
"No...Mike's been in business long enough to know exactly what he needs and when he needs it. I can't imagine him ordering stuff to be brought on site without it being used right away. He knows how easily things are stolen from construction sites." Ronnie's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense out of the puzzle. "And you're sure that these things were on the site?"
"I can't imagine him lying to us after all this time. His family's worked for us since the sixties and this is only the fifth time they've ever filed a claim."
"I'm sure it's the first time that it was in the six figures." Ronnie picked up the phone. "Laura, get hold of Mike Orbison for me." A minute later the buzzer and flashing light announced that the task was accomplished. "Mike? Veronica Cartwright...fine and yourself? Good. Mike, I wanted to talk to you about this claim you filed with Cartwright Insurance. Sure, I understand that...yes, that seemed strange to me too, that's why I wanted to call you...no, there's no problem with that....yes...absolutely...uh huh...yes...no, I didn't know that....uh huh...when was this?"
"What's going on?" Susan queried, drawing a frown from her sister.
"Yes Mike, I'm still here, go on....uh huh....when did you talk to him last? I see...Mike, let me ask you something, other than your people, who else had keys to the building? What? Well when did this happen? Did you ask him about it? When? And that's the last time you talked to him? Okay Mike...no, I understand perfectly....of course...you too...yes, say hi to Sarah for me....okay Mike, good-bye." Ronnie hung up the phone and sighed.
"So what did he say?"
"He said that everything was ordered weeks in advance but Tommy kept pushing the dates back. That's why everything was on site when the robbery happened. Did the police report say whether the truck was hot-wired or not?"
"I don't think so. I didn't pay that much attention to it, why?"
"Mike said that Tommy stopped by there last week and after he left a set of keys turned up missing."
"Keys for what?"
"The building, the truck, the equipment boxes, everything. Mike said it was on his desk when Tommy stopped by but he couldn't find it later that day."
"Ronnie, you don't think...."
"That's exactly what I think." The dark haired woman rose and went to the window, the bright sun reflecting off the snowbanks below. "Susan, I want you to contact all the other contractors and tell them to deal with me directly from now on instead of Tommy. If he shows up anywhere, I want to know about it."
"Why would he steal? It's not like he needs money."
"He stole from me!" Ronnie growled angrily. "Why are you defending him? The truth is right in front of your face." The phone buzzer interrupted her tirade. "What?"
"John Means from Means Auditing on line one," Laura replied.
"Terrific." She slumped down in her chair and picked up the receiver. "This had better be good news," she said before pressing the button. "This is Veronica Cartwright."
Ten minutes later a fully pissed off Veronica and shocked Susan stared at each other. "Now do you believe me?"
"I can't believe he would steal from his own family," the redhead replied quietly.
"Well he did. A few more weeks of that and he would have crippled the Real Estate division, not to mention what it would have done to the company as a whole. We'll be lucky to post a profit this quarter."
"What could he possibly need with that much money?"
"What do you think, Susan? You're the one who mentioned drugs last week."
"I know I said it but I didn't really believe it."
"Well, you should have." Ronnie picked up the phone and buzzed her secretary. "Laura, I want you to call the security company and the locksmith. I want all the locks changed and Tommy's key codes blocked before the end of the day. Call downstairs and make sure no one lets him in. Then call all the heads in for a meeting. I don't care what time just make sure everyone is there."
"I just can't believe it," the younger sister repeated.
"Believe it. Our baby brother is a thief and a liar and I'll be damned if he's going to get away with it."
By the end of the day all the locks had been changed and the news broken to the rest of the family. Ronnie shut down every construction project until further notice and announced that Frank's brother John would run the Real Estate Division until a suitable replacement could be found. As an added precaution she called the bank and reported Tommy's corporate credit card stolen only to find out that large cash advances had been taken on the card during the last two weeks and it had reached its limit. Yet another piece of information to add to Ronnie's already pounding headache of problems.
"What about a nice scarf?"
"She'll hate it."
"Hmm...what about a bottle of her favorite perfume?"
"Ugh, I hate her perfume."
"Well, what does she like?" Rose flipped through the glossy pages of the Macy's catalog. "They've got some pretty jewelry in here." They had spent the last two hours flipping through the various catalogs and flyers, to no avail. Everything suggested was dismissed just as quickly and Rose was running out of ideas to help her friend.
"No, Mother's got more jewelry than she knows what to do with." Ronnie tossed the Bloomingdale's catalog on the desk, picked up another, and sighed. "I hate Christmas."
"Oh, don't be a grump now, I promise to help you find something for her." Rose gave the older woman a smile. "It can't be that hard to find a present for your mother."
"Beatrice Phoebe Cartwright is without a doubt the hardest woman to buy a present for." Ronnie took a sip of wine and placed the long stemmed glass on the desk. "Maybe I should just send her on a cruise." Blue eyes twinkled with mischievous thought. "Maybe a nice, long cruise."
"Would she like that?"
"I would," the executive replied with an devilish grin. "Maybe one of those around-the-world tours. You know, maybe six, eight...months."
"Oh, you stop," Rose playfully chastised, reaching out to lightly swat Ronnie's forearm. "You're mother's not that bad, she's just a little...a little...." She put her finger to her lips, trying to figure out one or two words that could accurately describe her friend's mother. "Stuffy."
"My mother is a snob, hon." Ronnie said as she took another sip of the rosé wine. "She doesn't take no for an answer, expects perfection all the time, and worries more about the family image than how we feel." Another sip, "Maybe I should just get her a gift certificate and let her pick out what she wants."
"Are you sure?" Rose flipped a page in the catalog and held it out for the older woman to see. "Here. There's a toll free number you can call to order one, if that's what you really want to do," she said, her tone making it clear that she didn't believe that to be the case. Despite having only known her for three weeks, Rose was beginning to understand some of the little facial expressions and mannerisms that betrayed Ronnie's true feelings. Pencil gnawing meant frustration, fingernail tapping equated boredom, and the firm yet gentle embrace that held her each night spoke of something neither of them would dare put words to.
Blue eyes looked up from the liquid for a moment, then back down again. "No," Ronnie grudgingly admitted. "I just hate feeling so much pressure. I feel like I have to get the perfect gift."
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, realizing that in her friend's family, it wasn't far from being the truth. The Christmas party proved that. Not only was the entire thing thrust upon Ronnie's shoulders but there had been no sense of appreciation from Susan and Beatrice for all the effort. Rose decided that a different tactic was called for. "Okayyy, then what's the perfect gift?"
Ronnie's eyebrows lifted, not expecting this reaction from the fair haired woman. "Um...I don't know, something...something...." She motioned with her hands, causing the wine to slosh about inside the glass. "I guess I never really thought about it."
"Well then let's think about it. Come over here." Rose raised the head level of the bed until she was almost in a sitting position and patted the space next to her, booting Tabitha off in the process. "Come on, if the only thing you can get her is a perfect gift than let's find one." She turned the pages. "Maybe the trick is to get the perfect gifts, you know, a collection of things that she likes instead of one big gift. Bring a pen, I'll mark anything we find."
Ronnie reached for something to write with, but all her pencils were gnawed and there wasn't a pen in sight. She lifted a small pile of papers on her cluttered desk but no pen appeared. Opening the drawer showed paper clips, spare staples, even a pile of Post-It notes, but nothing to write with. "President of a multi-million dollar corporation and I can't find a pen when I need it." She continued her search, unaware of the page that Rose was looking at.
That's it! Rose thought excitedly. There before her eyes were pen and pencil sets in a multitude of price ranges and designs. The Mont Blanc sets were exquisite but completely beyond her meager spending level. She turned the page and saw it. There in the center of the page was a nice set, a marble design in a shade of blue that reminded Rose of the brilliance of her friend's eyes. Hesitantly she focused on the price written in smaller print below and gulped. It would take most of her remaining funds. She looked up to see Ronnie still hunting for the elusive pen, then back down at the catalog. The problem of finding a present for Beatrice hadn't been solved but another problem had. Rose discretely bent the bottom corner of the page, then flipped back to the jewelry just as Ronnie found the missing pen and came over to the bed. Rose took the offered ball-point and moved the catalog so the older woman could see. "Now let's figure this thing out. What's your mother's favorite place to visit?"
"Europe. She's taken two of those country by country tours and raved about both of them." Ronnie smiled, the tension and worry of the last few days draining away from her face. "That's it! She'd love it. A tour of Europe. I can't believe I didn't think of it before." She took the catalog from Rose and began flipping through the pages.
"Wow...that...that's a wonderful gift." She tried hard not to seem too awestruck but it showed in her expression nonetheless.
"You think that's enough?" Ronnie asked as she looked at the glossy pictures, unaware that Rose, used to thinking in terms of pennies, was now trying to fathom the thousands of dollars a trip like that would cost. "I was thinking maybe a new wardrobe or..." She looked up and was struck by the beauty that gazed back at her. They studied each other for several seconds before Rose gave a shy smile and looked away.
"So um..." She picked at a non-existent piece of lint on the blanket as a slow flush crept up her cheeks. "You said something about clothes?"
"Um...yeah, clothes." Ronnie closed the catalog, no longer having any interest in picking out presents. What she wanted to do was shut off the lights and curl up against the younger woman. "You know, it's getting late."
"Yeah, I guess it is." Out in the living room, the grandfather clock announced the ten o'clock hour but both women chose to pretend not to hear it. Rose reclined the bed into a sleeping position while Ronnie ran around shutting off lights and checking the locks on the doors. Within minutes the house was dark and they were lying in bed together. Usually Rose fell asleep quickly but with the early hour she found herself still awake.
Staring up at the blackness, the young woman thought about what had happened earlier. For that brief moment there had been something...special between them. Rose heard the sound of a fist punching a pillow and wished that Ronnie would just wrap those strong arms around her and hold her tight. Usually that didn't happen until she was almost asleep.
Ronnie tossed and turned enough for the both of them. One particular toss jarred the injured legs and the young woman hissed at the sudden pain. "I'm sorry, Rose. I just can't seem to get comfortable tonight."
"It's all right. It just hurt for a second, that's all." She was glad it was dark as a tear slipped out.
"I'll go out on the couch." Ronnie moved to get up but was stopped by the feel of the young woman's hand on her shoulder.
"Why don't you just put your arm around me like you usually do? You seem to go to sleep just fine after that." She gave a gentle tug on the older woman's top. "Come on, you know you'll only end up coming back in here after I'm asleep and holding me anyway." Such had been the case a few nights ago. Slowly, reluctantly the weight next to her shifted and she felt the familiar warmth of Ronnie's body against hers. A second later and her wish came true as a strong arm draped itself over her belly. Rose let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes. By the time Tabitha decided they were done moving about and jumped back on the bed, both women were sound asleep.
Accidental Love Ó 1998 B L Miller. Do not distribute or copy without permission of the author except for personal use.