Rose held the phone against her chest, debating for the fourth time in an hour whether she should call Ronnie or not. The executive always called her by two and it was now going on four. When the phone did ring, it startled Rose enough that she almost dropped it. "Cartwright Residence."
"Rose?"
"Ronnie?" A smile instantly crossed the young woman's face. The background sound of someone being paged for radiology was enough to wipe the smile away. "Where are you?"
"I'm down at Albany Med." The raven haired woman realized that she was standing at the exact pay phone that she used the night of Rose's accident to call Frank. She shook the thought off as she heard her friend's voice come through the phone. "Oh sorry, lots of noise here. I'm fine, Tommy was in a car accident."
"Oh no." Rose's legs throbbed with the memory. "Is he hurt bad?"
"I don't know yet. The doctors are still with him and they haven't told us much. Apparently he lost control going around a curve and ran into a telephone pole. Hey, I've got to go. The police are talking to Mother."
"Okay, let me know what's going on, all right?"
"I'll call you later."
Once their good-byes were said, Ronnie hung up the phone and stood next to her mother, impatiently listening to the officer's words. "...excessive speed."
"Everyone speeds in that area," Beatrice snapped. "Perhaps if the state would take better care of the roads something like this wouldn't have happened," she said indignantly.
"The best roads in the world aren't going to help when the driver is intoxicated, Ma'am." The policeman pulled a note pad from his chest pocket and flipped to a page covered with writing. "They found a dozen empty beer cans on the floor of the front seat. A breathalyzer taken at the accident scene showed his blood alcohol level twice the limit. You still want to blame the roads?"
Unable to protest and at a loss for words, Beatrice turned to her oldest daughter. The silent request was understood. It was time for the family caretaker. "Sergeant Mitchell," Ronnie said, stepping between the officer and her mother. "What happens to Tommy now?"
"After they get done stitching him up he'll be taken over to the County Jail and booked. If he gets there early enough, Judge Turner will set bail today, otherwise it'll be tomorrow." He shook his head. "I'll tell you this, Miss. If you don't get that fellow some help soon, you'd better plan on spending lots of time here." He put the pad away and took a step back. "He was lucky this time. There's something to be said for automatic seat belts and air bags. We could be looking at something far worse here than a few cuts and bruises."
"Yes, very lucky." From the corner of her eye, Ronnie saw Susan wrapping an arm around their mother, who looked torn between berating the officer and breaking down in tears. The family caretaker understood her mother's struggle. This was a problem that the Cartwright name and money couldn't fix. "Oh," she turned to the officer. "What about his car?"
"It's been impounded. We'll let you know when you can have it picked up. It's totaled, though."
"I want to see my son," Beatrice announced.
"Once they finish with him, he's going up to the jail. You can see him there once he's booked."
"Sergeant," Ronnie gave him a soft smile, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. "Would it hurt anything if she saw him for just a minute?" She saw him waver and moved in, lowering her voice so her mother wouldn't overhear. "I think she needs to see him now, not after they've cleaned him up, don't you?" He looked down at the floor for a second before giving a small nod.
"He's a mess, Miss. You need to get him help."
"I will," she promised.
"Just for a minute and I have to stay with you."
"Thank you." She turned to face her mother and Susan. "He's going to let us see him for a minute." As they moved to follow the policeman, Ronnie felt her sister's hand on her arm.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No," the raven haired woman admitted. "But I don't think hiding the truth from her is the best thing either. Maybe she does need to see him now, to see what he's doing to himself."
In thirty-three years, Ronnie could only remember a handful of times when her mother cried. No matter how much something upset Beatrice, she kept it inside, a trait that she passed on to her oldest child. Yet the sight of Tommy in a hospital bed, his face bloodied and bruised, was enough to bring tears to the matriarch's eyes. He opened his eyes at the gasp and looked at his mother, his eyes taking a moment to focus before he let his head drop back down onto the pillow. "What'd they tell you?" he asked.
"That you had an accident, sweetie." Beatrice walked over to the bed and took his hand in hers.
"I don't know what happened, Mother..." He licked his lips as if parched. "I was up working late last night and I guess I must have been tired. I went out to get some breakfast and I guess I must have fallen asleep at the wheel." He looked up through blackened eyes and gave his mother an apologetic look. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here."
Beatrice patted his hand and used her free hand to wipe her tears. "It's all right, honey. I'm here now. We'll call Mister Jenkins and have him meet us at the jail. I'm sure he can take care of everything."
"I guess I shouldn't drive tired, huh?" he joked, his face twisting with pain as he tried to sit up. "Oh, it hurts." His sisters exchanged dubious looks at the exaggerated groan. Sergeant Mitchell politely coughed and looked at his watch.
"Mother, I think it's time for us to leave," Ronnie said, putting her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "Why don't you and Susan wait for me out in the waiting room? I want to talk to Tommy for a minute."
Beatrice nodded and headed toward her younger daughter, who quickly led her out of the room. Ronnie listened to her mother's voice trail off as they disappeared down the hallway. "...and he's such a handsome boy, Susan. I hope he doesn't end up with any scars."
"So what's up, Sis?" Tommy grinned at her, his trademark cheshire look not working too well with a broken nose and bloodied lip. His grin faded when Ronnie moved closer, her face not showing anger, but concern.
"Tommy, you need help. Things are only going to get worse." Despite all that had happened between them during the last couple of months, this was still her brother. "If you get treatment maybe they'll drop the charges."
"Treatment?" he scoffed. "You make me sound like one of those bums that live in the gutter."
"Lots of people with money and status go into treatment, Tommy. You could go to the Betty Ford Clinic if you wanted to. I understand that's a great place."
"If it's so fucking wonderful then you go there."
"This time it was a pole, next time it could be another car or worse. This has to stop." She ran her fingers through her hair, frustration making itself known with a long release of breath. "You obviously have a drinking problem and probably a drug problem too."
"One look and you can tell that, right Doctor Cartwright?" he sneered.
"You stole Rose's pills from my house, Tommy! You tried to break into the safe in the office and you've forged my name on bank loans. If it's not drugs then what is it? You tell me because I can't understand why else you'd be doing these things."
"Is that what this is about? Your friend can't find her stupid pills and of course since I was in your house once in the last three years you decide it has to be me?"
"Twice," she corrected, her jaw clenched with anger. "Or don't you remember the night you upended my coffee table?"
"Get out of here, Ronnie." He growled. "I fell asleep at the wheel, nothing more. You're just trying to poison everyone against me."
"I'm trying to help you, Tommy. You need a rehab before you kill yourself or someone else."
"What I need is a fair shake, something I don't get with you around, ohmighty Veronica, Queen of the Cartwrights."
"Tommy..."
"Fuck you, Ronnie!"
"Miss Cartwright," she was surprised to find the Sergeant still in the room, having forgotten all about him. "You can't do anything more here. Why don't you go see to your mother and I'll deal with him."
"That's right, Ronnie, go see Mother and show her what a good daughter you are," Tommy sneered. "Maybe she'll even forget that her pride and joy is a dyke."
Dead silence descended on the room. Ronnie's brain tried desperately to rewrite what it had heard but to no avail. Her head hung down, the long black tresses hiding her face from the officer's view. Her emotions swirled and it was several breaths before she found her voice. "I really hope you get help, Tommy." She walked out of the room and went in the opposite direction of the waiting area, unable to face her family yet.
Outside the snow was falling gently, creating a light haze of white against the grey sky. Ronnie leaned against the cold brick of the building. With her jacket still upstairs in the waiting room, the silk blouse was little defense against the cold wind. Still the raven haired woman stayed where she was, hoping that the bitter chill would freeze some of her pain. Ronnie was torn between being angry at her brother and worrying that he was on a self destructive course with only two possible endings, jail or death. His hurtful words replayed themselves over in her mind and she wanted nothing more than to be home, curled up against Rose. Rose...blue eyes closed and she let her mind fill with the vision of the honey haired woman. Ronnie lost herself momentarily in the imaginary comfort of Rose's arms when she felt a very real hand on her arm.
"It's cold out here, come inside," Susan said, holding out her sister's jacket.
"Thanks," Ronnie took the jacket and hugged it to her chest. "I'll be up in a little bit. I just need some air." The warmth of the leather permeated through the silk, letting her know just how cold it really was.
"I know what he said," Susan admitted, taking the jacket and holding it out for Ronnie to slip her arms in. "Sergeant Mitchell pulled me aside and told me."
"Terrific. Maybe he'll put it in his report too." Ronnie stood up long enough to get the jacket on, then leaned back against the wall.
"He promised me he wouldn't say anything. He was just worried that you were upset." Susan put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Why don't you take off? Go home to Rose. I'll stay here with Mother and wait for Mister Jenkins."
Ronnie's first thought was to accept her sister's offer and escape to the one person who made her feel comfortable. To get away from this mess that she didn't want to deal with and return to her sanctuary. But while being the oldest meant being in charge, it also carried with it a great deal of responsibility. She sighed. "No, you know I can't leave until it's over."
"I know, I just thought I'd at least offer." Susan looked at the falling snow and shivered. "You know I'm freezing out here."
"Why don't you go home to Jack and the kids? I can handle Mother."
"No, if you have to be there then I should be there too. Come on, misery loves company." Susan and Ronnie walked back inside and headed for the waiting room. "I um...I told Mother that I agreed with you about the drug thing."
"You did?" Surprise showed on the older sibling's face. The redhead nodded.
"I thought maybe she'd believe it more if I told her that I thought he was doing drugs too."
"What'd she say?" Ronnie saw her answer on the younger woman's downtrodden face.
"She doesn't believe that it's as bad as I told her and I even mentioned what you told me about those pills missing from your house and the bank loan." Susan looked up at her sister and they shared a quiet but sad understanding....nothing they said would change their mother's opinion. They reached the outer doors of the emergency room.
"Well...one thing, I guess..." Ronnie began. At the expectant look, she smiled. "It's nice to know you're on my side in this. It makes it easier."
"Hey, we may not be best friends kind of sisters but we're still sisters," Susan said. "Besides, I'm holding you to the winter barbecue this weekend."
"Deal." Together they walked back into the waiting area to face the long evening of waiting around as the wheels and paperwork of justice turned slowly.
The sound of a car door shutting woke Rose from her sleep. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, noting by the red numbers of the clock that it was well past midnight. "Ronnie? I'm awake," she called when she heard the sliding glass door close.
"Oh." A moment later the tall figure appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No," the young woman lied while turning on the lamp. "I wanted to be awake when you came home anyway." She patted the empty space on the bed next to her. "So what happened?"
Ronnie sighed and flopped down on the bed, her head gratefully sinking into the thick pillows. Both shoes hit the hardwood floor and pantyhose covered toes wiggled in relief. "Ah, much better." Her watch followed her bracelet to the small side table. "Tommy was drunk and loaded with heroin and ran his car into a telephone pole."
"Was anyone else hurt?"
"Thank God, no. He walked away with a busted nose and a few bruises. They found some cocaine on him when they searched him at the jail."
"Cocaine? Oh Ronnie, that's awful."
"You should have seen Mother's face when they added possession to the list of charges. I still can't believe they gave him bail." She rubbed her face vigorously with both hands. "I don't know, Rose," she sighed. "I knew something was up but I figured it was pot, not coke." She took a deep breath. "That stuff's going to kill him and he doesn't even care. I tried to talk to him about going to a rehab but he wouldn't listen." A brief look of hurt crossed Ronnie's face at the memory of her brother's hateful words. "I guess whatever I say doesn't matter."
Rose heard the sadness in her friend's voice and knew there was more to what happened than she was letting on. She shifted on the bed, turning so her upper body was facing Ronnie. "Has he always had this animosity toward you?"
"No." The dark haired woman stared up at the ceiling. "When we were younger, Tommy was my shadow. Anything I did, he wanted to do. If I was interested in something, he was interested in it."
"What happened?"
Ronnie shrugged. "I don't really know. We started getting older and things changed. I think he always assumed that since he was the only son that he would be the one to take over when our father stepped down. I think he resented me because of that."
"Yet you still try to help him."
"He's my brother. What else can I do?" She laced her fingers behind her head. "He had such potential, Rose. I hate seeing what these drugs are doing to him."
"Maybe there's still hope that he'll seek treatment on his own."
"Maybe," Ronnie conceded. "I suppose anything's possible. God, he just gets me so angry sometimes. I could have had him arrested for embezzling and I didn't. You think he cares? No, I try to help him and he turns around and calls me a d-" She stopped the word before it left her throat. "...a damn bitch," she amended. "Ah, doesn't matter, I guess."
"It matters." Rose reached over and placed her hand on Ronnie's shoulder. "Maybe your family doesn't care but I do. He had no right to hurt you like that. You don't deserve it. You, Veronica Cartwright, are one of the most loving, gentle people I've ever met and anyone that doesn't see how special you are is blind."
Ronnie reached over and tousled the younger woman's hair. "That goes both ways, my friend." There was more, so much more she wanted to say but fear held her back. Part of her wanted to pull Rose into her arms and keep her there for eternity and the other part screamed the truth that would keep them forever separated. Her playful mood disappeared as the latter part won out. "Hey, I think we'd better get to sleep."
"Oh...okay." Rose was surprised by the sudden change but realized that perhaps it was better to wait than to push the issue. There were still parts of Ronnie that were closed to her and she didn't want to do anything to make her friend uncomfortable. She settled back on her own side and waited for her companion to join her under the covers.
Ronnie looked at the woman waiting for her to join her under the covers and Tommy's words echoed through her mind. "Maybe I should go to my own room. You're sleeping through the night without pain and you'd probably like to have the bed all to yourself again."
"Um...I guess...if that's what you want," Rose said quietly, biting her lower lip. "I suppose you'd probably be more comfortable in your bed anyway."
"Yeah, I suppose so." Ronnie noted that her companion's voice held the same tone of regret yet she still sat up and collected her shoes. "I'll see you in the morning." She stood up and walked to the door. Her hand was on the door handle when she heard a quiet sniffle. She turned to see sad pools of green looking at her. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked softly.
"N-nothing, I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, Ronnie." Rose turned her head away but not before Ronnie saw a tear roll free. A second later the bed shifted as she added her weight. Long fingers cupped Rose's chin, forcing her to turn and meet the concerned gaze.
"What's wrong?" Without thinking, her thumb began stroking the soft skin beneath it. "Tell me, Rose."
"Are you still happy having me here? I know it's been an inconvenience and-" She was stopped by Ronnie's finger on her lips.
"You listen to me. You are not an inconvenience to me. And yes, I'm still happy with you here. What brought this on?" She could have kicked herself as she immediately realized the answer to her own question. "I thought you'd be more comfortable without me in your bed. It's not that I don't want you here, I swear."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I guess I'm just being silly. Getting all upset just because you want to sleep in your own bed." Rose wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can just imagine what your family would say if they found out you were sleeping with me. They'd probably think I was turning you into a lesbian or something. We can't have that, now can we?"
Ronnie let out a deep breath and shook her head. "No, we can't have that." She stood up and gathered her pillows. No, can't have them thinking that Veronica Cartwright is a lesbian, can we? Wouldn't want to mess up the family's perfect image. It's okay that Tommy is out wrapping cars around poles and breaking into places but heaven forbid I take a woman into my bed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Rose."
"Leave the door open so Tabitha can get in, please?"
"Sure. Good night, Rose."
"Night, Ronnie. Pleasant dreams."
"You too." She shut the light off and left the room, a heavy blanket of loneliness settling over her.
Opening the door to her room, Ronnie was struck by just how foreign it seemed to her to sleep without Rose. The silk blouse and skirt landed in a pile on the foot of the bed, followed quickly by her bra and pantyhose. She pulled the blanket back and sat down on the cool sheets. Seconds ticked by as loneliness gave way to anger. Anger that grew until sleep was no longer an option. A few minutes later her sweats were on and she was heading for the basement to work out some aggression.
Thwap! Thwap! Over and over the punching bag took the fury and rage that was a woman torn between what she needed and what was expected of her. "Damn it! Why can't they understand?" Ronnie cried out to the empty gym. "I'm not hurting anyone!" Her gloved fists struck the bag over and over. Thwap, thwap, thwap. "Why is it so wrong? Why?" Her only answer was the creaking of the punching bag on its hinge as her blows caused it to sway.
On the floor above, Rose laid in the dark, listening to the muffled sounds coming from the basement. Oh Ronnie, what did he say to hurt you so much? She hugged the pillow tightly against herself, wishing it was her friend that she was holding. Suddenly the sounds from below stopped, followed a few minutes later by the sound of the basement door opening. "Ronnie?" she called out.
"You okay?" The tall figure appeared in the doorway, her silhouette invisible against the darkness of the night.
"I um...I...would you mind spending one more night with me?"
"Is everything all right?" Ronnie crossed the room and put her knee on the edge of the bed.
"I just...I had a bad dream and can't get back to sleep," she lied. There was silence while the executive struggled with her inner demons. Finally Rose felt the blanket being pulled back and the soft warmth of Ronnie's body nestling up against hers.
"Better?" the throaty voice asked.
"Mmm," Rose snuggled closer, resting the back of her head against the soft crook of the offered shoulder. "You comfortable?"
"Very," came the sleepy murmur. "Night, Rose."
"Night, Ronnie." She closed her eyes and smiled as the older woman's breathing became deep and even. "Everything will be fine. Rest well," she whispered before allowing sleep to claim her as well.
"Miss Cartwright, may I speak with you for a minute?" Laura asked, poking her head around the door.
"Sure, come in." Ronnie set her pen down and looked up, noting the smile on the young secretary's face.
"I wanted to tell you the good news myself before everyone in the office hears it."
"You're pregnant," the executive guessed. The young woman nodded happily. "Congratulations. I know you and Mike were trying. How far along?"
"Thanks, I'm three months now. I have a feeling that Mike's made himself that quarterback he always wanted. I'm certainly gaining enough weight." She looked at the couch, then at her employer.
"Please, take a seat. So you're going to be going out on maternity just in time for summer."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Mike doesn't want me to work once the baby's born. He just got a promotion and thinks that we can make it on one income."
"So you're going to resign when it gets close to the time?"
"Actually...Mike doesn't want me to wait that long. He doesn't want me to have any undue stress." Laura rubbed her belly absently. "I'm going to leave just before my third trimester starts."
Ronnie did the quick math and realized that only gave her three months to find a new secretary. The idea of wading through the endless resumes and interviews threatened to give her a headache. "Well...I appreciate that you're going to stay on for a while. It would be nice to have a smooth transition between you and your replacement."
"I'll put a notice in the paper and notify the employment agencies," Laura offered. "I'll make sure to be clear on your requirements." She stood up. "Well, I'd better get out there. I'll bet the phone is ringing off the hook and besides it's almost two."
"Is it?" Ronnie looked at her watch, startled by the amount of time that had gone by. "Okay, Laura. Have a draft of the ad prepared for me by morning, will you? I'd like to get someone in here and settled before you leave."
Once alone, the executive picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. Two rings later the sweetest voice she'd ever heard answered. "Cartwright Residence."
"Why do you always answer the phone like that? You know it's me," she teased.
"Just habit, I guess," Rose answered. "How's it going?"
"Actually today is flying. I might come home early. What's for dinner?" She leaned back, kicking her shoes off and sticking her feet up on the edge of her walnut desk.
"I'm not sure. She usually doesn't start dinner until around four or so."
"Why don't you tell her not to bother tonight? I'll pick up some Chinese for us."
"Oh, that sounds nice."
"Is there something good on TV tonight or do you want me to stop and pick up a movie?"
"There's not much on except the news magazines."
"We always watch those. How about a movie tonight?"
"Sure, sounds good. Hey, my speed is up to fifty words a minute now."
"Oh yeah? Great." A tiny thought formed in the back of her mind. "Have you been studying those business letters and forms?"
"Of course. I even retyped some old letters you had lying on the desk just to get the practice."
"Good." Ronnie smiled broadly at the extra effort on Rose's part. "Hey, Laura told me today that she's pregnant."
"Oh yeah? That's great."
"Great for her, lousy for me. Now I have to find another secretary. I hate looking for a secretary. I'm worse than Murphy Brown when it comes to them."
"Oh please," Rose laughed. "I've been watching that in the mornings. She had one that talked to the devil."
"I had two that believed that Satan was going to swoop down and take over any minute. Needless to say they didn't last long. I have terrible luck with them. Laura's the best I've had and it took me six months of wading though the flotsam of the secretarial world to get her." A buzz on the phone brought Ronnie's attention the flashing light of line two. "Hon, I've got to go. Tell Maria not to bother with dinner and I'll be home in a little while."
"Okay, Ronnie, I'll see you soon."
"Bye."
"Bye."
"Hon?" Ronnie whispered, amazed at how easily the word slipped out when talking to Rose. She gazed at her beloved mechanical pencil for a few seconds before reluctantly pressing the button on the phone. "This is Veronica Cartwright."
"Prepare to meet the Crusher, arg arg arg," Susan's oldest son Ricky said. "He's gonna pulverize you."
"Worse than the Undertaker?" Rose queried.
"Oh, he's nothing compared to Crusher." He caught his aunt walking past. "Hey, Aunt Ronnie, come see me pulverize Rose."
"Can't you find something nicer to play? Whatever happened to Pac-Man?" she said as she entered the living room.
"Pac-Man?" The twelve year old laughed and pressed several buttons in rapid succession, throwing Rose's man out of the ring and onto the mat. "I've seen that game in the arcades. Boring. You've got to get with the times, Aunt Ronnie. It's Virtual Fighter and Super Wrestlemania now." He lowered his voice so only Rose could hear him. "Next thing you know she'll bring out those old records she has from the eighties."
"Hey, I like the music from the eighties," she protested.
"That's 'cause you're old like Aunt Ronnie and Mom."
"Old? I hate to tell you, Ricky, but twenty-six is not old."
"Twenty-six? Oh man, that's way old. Come on, get your man back into the ring before he gets counted out."
"Why? Every time I get back in you throw him out again."
"That's the point," the boy replied, moving his character into position. Rose looked at Ronnie and rolled her eyes, causing the older woman to laugh before leaving the room.
Ronnie found Susan out on the sun porch, monitoring the steaks and burgers cooking on the grill. The late January thaw had the temperature in the lower fifties, practically balmy for Albany. Susan's other sons, Timmy and John, were enjoying the bright sunshine, riding bikes that they found in the garage. "Ricky sure enjoys those video games, doesn't he?" the oldest Cartwright said as she walked over and sniffed the cooking meat.
"I can't get him away from them," Susan replied. "Do you think we should start frying up the mushrooms yet?"
"No, not for another ten minutes or so." They were interrupted by six year old John riding up on the purple bike, tears streaming out of his eyes.
"What's wrong, honey? Did you fall?" Susan went into mother mode, lifting her son's arms to look for any scrapes. He shook his head, still blubbering.
"Timmy won't stop teasing me 'cause I'm riding a girl's bike," he wailed, pointing at the flowered basket on the front.
"I'll take care of this," Ronnie said, holding her hand out to take the smaller one in her own. "Come on, John. There's some tools in the garage. We'll take that basket off, will that be better?" She received a shaky nod in reply. With her nephew in tow, Ronnie headed for the garage.
Satisfied that the meat would cook without supervision, Susan stepped inside to warm up for a little while and to check on her oldest son. She found him still playing the wrestling game with Rose, who only made token efforts to fight back as her character was beaten time and again. "Having fun?"
"Oh yeah, Mom. Rose is more of a challenge than Aunt Ronnie," he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.
"Ricky, why don't you go play pool with your father? I want to talk to Rose for a few minutes."
"But I'm having fun," he whined.
"Richard..." she said in that age old 'mother' tone. The game controller landed on the floor and a pouting boy headed for the game room. Rose set her controller on the couch next to her, nervousness setting in as it did when Susan ran into her at the Christmas party.
"Where's Ronnie?" she asked.
"Out helping John with the bicycle," the redhead said as she sat down on the cushion previously occupied by her son. "So your legs are getting better?"
"Doctor Barnes says my right leg is healing beautifully." She looked down at the bright white of her new casts, the left leg still encased up to the hip but the other one stopping just below the knee.
"What about the left one?"
Rose sighed, remembering the x-ray of her ankle that resembled a road map. "That one will take longer. I broke it pretty good."
"Oh, that's too bad." There was a brief silence before Susan spoke again. "That pen and pencil set you gave Ronnie is very nice."
"Thank you," the honey haired woman replied. "She was complaining that she can never find a pen when she needs one and I thought she'd like it."
"She loves it. I never see her use anything else now. And I never thought I'd see her stop biting her pencils." Susan looked at the graphics flashing on the television, begging them to press the start button and enter another round of video wrestling. "You know I love my sister very much. I don't like to see her hurt."
"She's a very special person," Rose agreed, uncertain where the conversation was going.
"I hope you understand just how much she's putting on the line having you here." Susan's voice held no reproach, just concern for her sister. She turned sideways on the couch, looking carefully at the young woman across from her. "She was hurt very badly by Chris. I just hope that doesn't happen again."
"What did he do?" Rose asked. Susan's eyebrow raised and her face took on a confused look. Remembering her sister's repeated denials of a relationship, she now questioned her previous assumptions.
"Um...oh...well, I think maybe you should ask Ronnie about that. I need to check on the steaks. Excuse me." She stood up quickly and left, leaving a confused Rose to watch her retreating form.
With no boy to keep occupied with video games, she decided to venture out and look for Ronnie. With one leg in a short cast, it was much easier for her to maneuver herself in and out of her wheelchair. The temporary ramp made of plywood allowed her to get in and out of the sunken part of the living room on her own. She found the dark haired beauty on the sun porch, talking to her sister. "Hi there," Ronnie said with a smile when she saw Rose wheel her way onto the porch. "You want a jacket? It's warm but not that warm."
"No, this sweater is plenty warm," the young woman assured. "Ricky is playing pool with his father and I thought I'd come out and see how everything was going." She sniffed the air appreciatively. "Smells great."
"Mm, yes it does." Ronnie lifted the cover and gazed hungrily at the steaks.
"Don't even think about it," Susan admonished. "I thought you were going to do the mushrooms and peppers?"
The older woman laughed and nodded. "All right. Come on, Rose. You can help me cut up the peppers." She opened the sliding glass door and motioned for the younger woman to go first. "Susan, remember we want ours done medium well, not burnt."
"Keep it up and you'll get hockey pucks," Susan said, reaching for the flame control in a mock threat.
"Well then I would know you were the one that cooked it," Ronnie replied with a teasing grin, feeling far more relaxed around her sister than she had in weeks. There was a familiarity about having her family around that was nice but it was made that much more so by the presence of Rose.
After dinner the two older boys joined Ronnie and Jack in the game room for pool while Rose volunteered to play a video game with John. To her surprise, he had no interest in the wrestling game, instead putting in a race car game where they competed against each other. Unlike his aggressive oldest brother, John was content to stay in his own lane and not try to run Rose off the road, despite the bonus points allowed for doing so. Of course the honey haired woman let him win, letting up on the speed button at the last minute to allow him to take the lead. As Susan puttered about, she glanced in at them from time to time, surprised when she saw John sitting on Rose's lap as they engaged in another race. She watched for several minutes unobserved, noting how gentle the young woman was with her son, showing him how to make his car go faster and not crash while moving around the corners. She never heard her older sister slip up behind her. "Is there anything else that has to go in the dishwasher?"
"Oh God, Ronnie, I didn't know you were there," Susan said. "I was just checking to see what John was doing," Together they watched the young woman and boy for a few minutes. "She seems like a nice person, Ronnie."
"She is a nice person," the dark haired woman corrected. "I don't think Rose has a mean bone in her body."
"Well, they're fine. Let's go see what Jack and the boys are doing."
"They're still playing pool. I just came out to make sure everything was picked up and in the dishwasher." She followed her younger sister into the game room, turning at the last moment to take one more look at Rose.
It was just after six when Susan's car pulled out of the driveway. Ronnie set the dishwasher then joined Rose in the living room. "So, movies or television tonight?" she asked as she sank into the couch cushion.
"Oh, either one is fine with me, but haven't we seen all your movies already?"
"Well, there's always HBO or pay per view. I think that new Whoopi Goldberg movie is on tonight." Ronnie looked around but didn't see what she was looking for. "Where's the TV Guide?"
"Oh, over here." Rose picked it up off the end table and passed it over. As she handed it over, she noticed the light beige polish on Ronnie's perfectly manicured nails. "Oh, that's a pretty color." She took the larger hand in her own to get a better look.
"You know, I bet this color would look nice on you too." She looked at Rose's nails and an idea came to her. "Looks like you could use an emery board."
The young woman withdrew her hand and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I haven't paid much attention to them lately."
"Why don't we do them tonight?" Ronnie asked. "I've got tons of polish in almost any shade you can imagine." At Rose's hesitation, she added "Come on, I've got to do mine anyway. It's the quick drying kind. It'll be fun, just like a slumber party." Ronnie gave a little pout coupled with puppy dog eyes, pleased immeasurably when the young woman smiled and nodded. "Great. I'll get everything and you can head into the bedroom. The light's better in there anyway."
A short while later found them on the bed, Rose propped up against the headboard and her companion sitting cross-legged next to her. Surrounding them were cotton balls, a bottle of remover, and several bottles of the quick drying nail polish. Ronnie took the smaller hand in hers and began to shape the flat ends of Rose's nails. "Okay, so lets do some girl talk."
"Okay," the young woman said with a smile. "Let's see, what haven't we talked about yet." She used her free hand to tap her finger against her chin. "We haven't talked about sex."
"Something you don't know?" Ronnie queried with a grin. "I understand there are books out there..."
"Oh, you..." Rose playfully swatted her friend. "That's not what I meant and you know it." They exchanged friendly smiles while the file moved on to another nail. "I mean why does someone like you not have a husband and kids running around? You can't tell me you don't have offers."
"Oh, I get offers all the time, I just ignore them. Other hand please." She turned the emery board over and resumed her task. "Most of them are just opportunists looking for a boost up with my money."
"And the others?"
"The others are just not what I'm interested in. Maybe I'll settle down someday but not right now." She released the hand she was holding and waved at the pile of bottles. "So which color?" She reached in and picked out a light pink. "I think this would look good. Bright red would be too dark with your skin tone."
"Sure, go ahead." Rose held her hand out dutifully. Ronnie scooted closer and handed her the open bottle to hold.
"So what about you?" Ronnie asked while drawing the small brush along the length of the nail.
"I haven't dated much. Nowdays most men expect the woman to help pay when they go out and you know I couldn't afford that." She looked down at the half-finished nail. "Oh, that is pretty."
"Told you you'd like it," the older woman said as she moved on to the next finger. "And not all men expect the woman to help pay."
"The ones I know do, or else they expect something else. I've had to wrestle my way out of cars more than once."
Ronnie chuckled. "I think that's a rite of passage now. You're not a woman unless you've had to beat off Horny Harry at least once. It's really amazing how many of them think with the wrong head." She turned Rose's hand to get to the thumb. "It's not worth my time to deal with it."
"Did you ever get caught?"
"Caught what? Doing it?" The older woman shook her head. " Other hand. You?" The answering blush peaked her curiosity. "What happened?" She capped the polish and leaned forward expectantly.
"God, this is embarrassing. How did we get on this topic anyway?"
"You suggested it," Ronnie replied, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Oh yeah." Still smiling, Rose looked down at her lap. "I was sixteen and living with Delores. I went out on a date with this guy from school. He was dropping me off and we were in his car parked in her driveway. I never heard her come out."
"You were otherwise occupied?" Ronnie couldn't help smiling at her friend's increased blushing. "That must have been awful."
Rose nodded. "We weren't exactly doing 'that' but we were pretty close. And it was. She grounded me for the rest of the school year and I had extra chores from then out."
"Jeez, I hope your next date went better than that." Ronnie opened the bottle of polish and resumed her task.
"He wouldn't go out with me again after the way she yelled at him. Called his parents too. I was humiliated. He wouldn't even talk to me at school because he got in trouble too."
"We all have our embarrassing moments," Ronnie said gently, giving the hand within hers a squeeze.
"Your turn, tell me about Chris." The brush stopped mid-nail and the older woman's face looked like she swallowed the wrong way.
"Um, Chris?" Her voice squeaked and she had to clear it. "Who told you about Chris?"
"Susan said Chris hurt you very badly. What did he do?"
Ronnie felt her heart pick up speed and licked her lips nervously. "What did Susan tell you?"
"Just that Chris hurt you badly. She didn't say anything more. I'm sorry, if you don't want to--"
"No, it's all right," the older woman replied, returning her attention to the hand she was holding. How much do I tell her? She looked up at the gentle face, trying to gauge her reaction. "Um...I met Chris while I was at Stanford."
"How long did you two go out?"
"We were together for about three and half months. I was young and in love and I guess...Chris wasn't."
"What did he do?"
"Betrayed me." There was a touch of the long ago hurt in her voice. "After I broke it off Chris called my parents and asked for money." She mentally cursed herself for letting Rose believe that her ex-lover was a man but still found she couldn't bring herself to utter the hidden truth. "Threatened to take our relationship public."
"Oh that's terrible!" Rose gasped. "No wonder you don't date much."
"Much?" Ronnie gave a short laugh. "I haven't seriously dated anyone in years. I have an escort service I use when I have to have a date for a formal affair."
"Not worth the hassle, eh?"
"Absolutely not worth it," the dark haired woman said emphatically. "Okay, you're done." She released the smaller hand, deliberately drawing her forefinger along the length of Rose's as they separated. "This is the quick drying stuff. Give it a minute, then you'll be all set. So I got to pick your color, you pick mine."
Green eyes perused the various shades before deciding on one. "Now you are someone who can wear the deep reds. I think this would look nice on you." She held up a dark shade called Heart. "You know that red blouse you wore last week? This shade would be perfect with that." She focused on the strong hands resting in Ronnie's lap. "You have strong hands, you know that? Not bony at all. Must be all that working out." Deciding that her nails were dry enough, Rose took the older woman's hand in hers.
Gotta have some way to release my tension, Ronnie thought to herself. Sharing a bed didn't allow her the privacy she usually had late at night to relieve herself in another way. She tried hard not to think about how nice it felt to hold hands with Rose, even if they were both being careful not to smudge the freshly painted nails. The warmth, the softness...with a start she realized that the young woman was speaking to her. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Nothing, I was just teasing."
"What did you say?"
"I asked if you worked out so much because you were frustrated." Rose blushed at her attempt at a bold joke. "Because you're down in that gym so often."
Ronnie chuckled. "If that was the case, I'd be down there all the time. Of course there are other ways to take care of that problem," she said, deciding that she liked the pretty color rising to the young woman's cheeks.
"Uh, yes there are," Rose agreed, looking down. She finished the nail she was working on in silence. It wasn't common for her to discuss sex with anyone and she felt like a teenager, curious and embarrassed at the same time. "Do you do that?" she practically whispered as she brought the brush to the next fingernail.
"Everyone does that, Rose."
"Yeah, I'm sure they do, I just didn't think...I mean I can't imagine..." The image of Ronnie touching herself formed in her mind for an instant before she forced it away. "I don't mean that I imagine you...well...you know...I mean..." She stammered to a stop, having now fully embarrassed herself. "Oh God, this topic was my idea?" She laughed and shook her head. "I guess I should have picked something I had a little more experience in."
"You're cute when you blush, you know." Ronnie gave a smile full of teeth and jerked her head back at the mock pass at her nose with the polish brush. "Obviously we've both had bad luck when it came to romance."
"You know that doesn't mean you won't ever find love again." She began working on the last nail. "You're a very special woman, Ronnie. Any man would be lucky to have you...oops." She reached over and grabbed a cotton ball to wipe away the errant swipe of polish against the dark haired woman's thumb.
"Yeah, well maybe someday I'll find someone but I'm not worried about it." She held her hand up and smiled. "You did a good job, Rose. They look great."
"Thanks, you did too." She held up her own hand for comparison. "Look how much smaller my hand is compared to yours." She pressed their palms together and chuckled at the difference.
"So what do you want to do now?" Ronnie asked, not making any move to withdraw her hand. She didn't want it to end, not yet. "The night is still early. I know, how about we braid each other's hair?"
"Oh, that sounds like fun," Rose happily agreed. "I love your hair. I bet you'd look really cute in one of those French braids."
"Whatever you want to do. I trust you not to make me look like Heidi the Swiss Miss Girl."
"Ohh," The fair haired woman gave a fake pout. "But you'd look so cute."
"And just what do you think I'd make you look like if you did that?" Ronnie chuckled. "Do you want me to do your hair first?"
"No, I wanna do yours first. You have nice hair. Besides, you have to give those nails another minute or two to dry." The older woman obliged, turning around so her back was to Rose. Blue eyes fluttered shut at the feel of gentle fingers sinking into her hair. The soft, melodic voice drifted in. "So thick and long. I don't know how you manage not to spend hours brushing it."
"I have many skills," Ronnie said with a grin. "And a damn good hair dryer," she added.
"It's very pretty," Rose whispered, pulling her fingers through the sable strands. "When the light shines on it, some parts seem almost jet black while others seem lighter, like a chestnut."
"It does get a little lighter in the summer. I figure it's from all the chlorine in the pool."
"Mmm." Rose began to twist the hair into a braid. "I bet you were happy to have the pool last summer. Albany was absolutely scorching."
"Does yours get lighter? I bet it does."
"Yeah, it becomes almost blonde." Small fingers continued to twist the dark hair, careful to keep the braid straight. They kept up the chit-chat but Rose's concentration was on what her hands were doing, not what they were talking about. When she reached the end and tied it off, her fingers automatically landed on the broad shoulders before her. She experimented by squeezing gently and was rewarded with a deep groan. "Sounds like you could use a massage."
"I'd love one," Ronnie replied, leaning into the pressure. "You've got a great touch."
"Thank you." She slipped her fingers and thumbs under the neck of the tee-shirt and began kneading the muscles hidden under warm flesh. Rose moved as far as the opening would let her giving a gentle tug on the shirt.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know, I want to." She gave another tug. "It's not like there's anyone else here to do it and besides, if I can't give my best friend a backrub, who can?" She moved her hands out of the way as the light grey shirt was removed.
"That's nice," Ronnie said.
"What's nice?" Rose's fingers went back to work.
"Best friend." She turned to meet soft green eyes. "That goes both ways, you know. I've never had anyone that I could talk to like you." On impulse she pulled the younger woman to her for a hug.
At first Rose was startled but then she relaxed against the warmth of the bare skin. With her face buried in the crook of Ronnie's neck, she inhaled the mixture of perfume, soap, and the older woman's own scent. As the embrace continued, she became cognizant of where her forearm rested against the swell of bared breasts. She had never touched another woman's breasts before and found herself curiously focused on the new sensation. They were soft, warm...for a brief instant she had the urge to cup one in her hand to feel its weight but Ronnie's body shook with a chuckle and the spell was broken. "What?"
"I said I know I'm soft but you can't sleep there," the dark haired woman teased.
"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just...I um..." Rose's face colored and her mind refused to offer up any excuses.
"You felt like you were drifting off and I figured your pillows were better than my boob." Ronnie turned away again and sighed as the backrub resumed.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Rose replied, moving her fingers down the length of her friend's spine. "Looks like you have plenty to make a pillow out of." She surprised herself with her boldness and quickly tried to laugh it off. "Not that I'm really lacking in that department myself." Her eyes fell upon a small triangle of skin darker than the rest just below Ronnie's shoulder blade. "Did you know you have a birthmark right here?" She poked the area in question.
"So I've heard. Never seen it myself." Rose continued to trace the mark with her fingertip, unaware of the effect her touch was having on Ronnie's senses. "It's um...not in a good position, even with mirrors."
"Hmm, it's very pretty. Just a little thing, no more than my fingertip. It's just below your shoulder blade." Her eyes studied the landscape of her friend's back, noting every freckle and beauty mark. Where her eyes went, her hands followed, splaying out and running up and down. "You have a strong back, Ronnie." In fact, everything about you is strong, she silently mused. Strong shoulders, strong arms, even your jawline is strong. She leaned over and spied the large hand resting on the older woman's thigh. And your hands...strong and gentle. When you hold me at night I feel so safe. When my legs hurt so much I don't think I can stand it you come along and make it feel better just by putting your arms around me. She never realized that her hand had moved and was now gently stroking up and down the length of Ronnie's left bicep.
"Um...I think that's good, Rose."
"Hmm? Oh," she pulled her hands back and watched as Ronnie put her tee-shirt back on.
"Okay, your turn. Scoot forward."
Long, dexterous fingers moved through her hair, against her scalp, massaging while braiding. Rose didn't know when her eyes closed or when Ronnie started humming. She gave up trying to figure out what she was feeling and lost herself in it. She pressed back against her friend's fingers, sighing audibly when Ronnie took the hint and began pressing her thumbs against the base of the skull. "Ooh, that's nice," she murmured, a lazy smile coming to her face.
"Talk about needing a massage," the older woman replied. "That's it, relax against me." Rose did as the rich voice told her, letting her upper body rest upon Ronnie's. The Dartmouth nightshirt was big on her, the larger neck allowing the large hands to reach her shoulders without hindrance. She sighed again as the strong fingers forced her muscles to relax. She sank deeper against the larger frame behind her. Her shoulders were completely limp but Rose discovered another part of her was far from that state. She didn't need to look down to realize that her nipples were tightening up. As Ronnie's hands moved beneath the nightshirt, the cloth rubbed against the pink puckered skin. Eyes closed, Rose imagined those strong hands moving down. Her eyes flew open with the realization of what she was feeling...arousal. "Hey...um...why don't we turn on the television? I'm sure there's something on there that we can watch." She reached for the remote, hoping her voice didn't sound as nervous to Ronnie as it did to her own ears.
Broken out of her own musings by Rose's sudden move, the dark haired woman could only mumble an approval. The noise of the television filled the air. It took a moment for her to realize that the young woman wasn't going to lean back against her anymore. Disappointed that the massage was over, Ronnie returned to the earlier task of braiding the honey colored hair. Five minutes before she was content, cozy, and comfortable. Now her body felt cool without the warmth of Rose's against her. She let out a silent sigh and resigned herself to be content with just touching the soft tresses.
Rose was also feeling the loss of their body contact. It took effort on her part not to lean into Ronnie's fingers and start the massage over again. Why am I feeling like this? What's gotten into me? It's just Ronnie. She tried to imagine how it would feel if someone else was touching her but an accidental brushing of the older woman's hand against her collarbone blew that thought away. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a nice backrub from you right now. She began to lean into Ronnie's touch again and had to stop herself. This is crazy. It's just that no one has ever touched me like this before, that's all. It's just Ronnie. She repeated the words over and over in her head until the braiding was done. When Ronnie moved out from behind her and she settled back against the pillows, Rose felt anything but relaxed. Her body was wide awake and burning with a fire that she hadn't felt in years. In fact, the room seemed quite warm to her at the moment. Her only hope was that sleep would come quickly. "I'm tired," she said over a fake yawn.
"Really?" Ronnie looked at the clock. "It's still early."
"Yeah, I don't know, I think your neckrub is putting me to sleep. You can stay up if you want to, the TV won't bother me." She closed her eyes and nuzzled deeper into her pillow.
"I'm not tired yet but I don't want to keep you up. I'll go downstairs and work out for a while. I'm sure that'll tire me out."
"Oh, you don't have to leave," Rose protested, although an idea was forming in her mind.
"No, it's no problem, really. I could use a workout," she reassured, climbing out of bed and shutting off the television. "I'll be back in about a half-hour, forty-five minutes or so."
"Okay." Perfect.
Rose waited until she heard the music wafting through the floorboards before bending her right knee and drawing her legs apart. Self-pleasuring was not something she did often but her fingers had no trouble slipping between her slick lips and locating her excited clit. "Ah..." Her fingers felt cool surrounded by the liquid warmth and the sensation was heightened when she drew the length of her finger across her clit. She filled her mind with erotic images while her passion grew. Her left hand pushed its way under the nightshirt and latched on to...
...her nipple became hard under the rhythmic pumping. Lying on the thick blue workout mat, Ronnie let her free hand travel into her sweatpants to cup her mound through her panties. "Ohh..." Long fingers pushed the cotton against her wet curls, then further until the crotch was saturated with her juices. Shifting for leverage, the dark haired woman caused some slack to form in the panties and she used it to her full advantage, curling her fingers under the elastic edge and between her nether lips. Eyes closed, her fingers became Rose's fingers. Imagining the honey haired woman touching her so intimately caused Ronnie's hips to buck against the mat and her breath to quicken. It was a fantasy she hadn't allowed herself to entertain until now and she was surprised by its power. It was too much to deny anymore. She was in love with Rose Grayson; nothing could change that. Reality could never be but here, now, on a mat in her private gym, the fantasy could live. Here there was no accident, no broken bones, no shattered lives. Here was just her and Rose, loving each other. Ronnie's fingers moved through the black curls and pink lips with old familiarity but the touches were somehow different, more intense. She was more than ready when two long fingers found her entrance and slid...
...inside to her first knuckle. Rose brought her other hand down and rubbed herself furiously. The full length cast was the only thing keeping her hips even remotely on the bed. Her thigh muscles tensed and she felt a twinge of pain in her left leg but it paled in comparison to the pleasure her fingers were bringing. Her fingers pumped in, back, then in deeper still as her fantasy lover brought her to the edge. Rose pushed in as far as she could but there was more...more that she couldn't quite reach. That special place was so close and yet so far away. Teeth gritted, face contorted, she strained to reach orgasm. Pumping so deep that it hurt the webbing between her fingers while her left hand never ceased in its frantic efforts against her clit, Rose felt herself teetering on the brink but unable to fall over the edge. Then the familiar voice came to her. "Yes, that's it, Rose. Let it go, that's right." Ronnie's low tones rumbled through her, setting off electric charges that moved from her breasts to her clit where the final explosion came with shattering force. "Oh..."
"...Rose!" Ronnie cried out as the pulsing waves crashed through her. Sure, deliberate movements drew out the pleasure, allowing her a few more seconds with her fantasy lover before falling limply back to the mat. Eyes closed, she laid there for several minutes, unwilling to let the fantasy go too soon. Eventually her breathing slowed and reality returned. With it came profound sadness. No matter how much she did it would never take away the truth about the accident. Nothing would take away Rose's pain. Ronnie sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging herself into a ball. For so long I haven't wanted anyone and now there's you. She looked at the ceiling, then slowly buried her head against her knees. What am I going to do? I need you in my life, Rose. I can't imagine what it was like before you came and I dread the thought of you ever leaving. At that moment there was nothing Ronnie wanted to do more than to cuddle up against the smaller woman. She took a deep breath and sat up, knowing that the longer she stayed downstairs the longer it would be before she could rest against Rose's warm...
....washcloth between her legs, removing any trace her activities. Her task finished, Rose settled back under the covers and waited for Ronnie to return. In the darkness, she thought about what had happened. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought about having sex with another woman. Now, her body still tingling from the intense orgasm, Rose tried to sort out her conflicting feelings. She cared very deeply for Ronnie, but that way? Still, all it took was her thinking of the executive speaking low and sexy to her and Rose began to warm up again. She tried to think of two women having sex. Nothing, no interest at all. The visions in her mind were just sex, bodies and limbs mingling together for physical pleasure. She thought about Ronnie again. Long, never ending legs led to a graceful swelling at the hip then narrowed to a slim waist. Breasts that seemed neither too large nor too small for the tall frame. A slender neck led to a square jaw and high cheekbones, all accented by full lips and expressive blue eyes. But the mental review couldn't stay on the physical. The rich voice played in her ear while the sweet scent lingering on the nearby pillow filled her nostrils. Rose suddenly became aware of her own hand moving against her breast. The sudden silence as the stereo was shut off jolted the young woman out of her new fantasy. Her hands went straight to her sides and she waited as the basement door closed and the one to her room opened.
"You awake?" Ronnie whispered as she entered the darkened room. She waited a couple of seconds before repeating her question. Satisfied that Rose was sleeping, she carefully slipped into bed. Their bodies were barely touching. She tried one more time. "Rose?" She waited for several breaths before settling down and wiggling in close. Her face buried in golden hair, her arm resting across the small waist, Ronnie gave a contented sigh and drifted off.
Long after Ronnie's breathing gave way to soft snores, Rose laid awake, her fingertips idly twirling across the back of the hand resting on her stomach. It's too bad that Chris hurt you so much, using your love against you, threatening to tell everyone about... Her eyes popped open as the question took shape. Why would it be so terrible for you to be involved with a fellow student? It's not like you were sleeping with a professor or anything. Unless... her eyes grew wide.
Unless Chris is a Christine.
Accidental Love Ó 1998 B L Miller. Do not distribute or copy without permission of the author except for personal use.