by B L
Miller
part 8
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 black-haired woman realized she was standing at
the exact pay phone she had 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
legal 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. She understood her mother's struggle. This was a problem the Cartwright name and
money could not 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 been 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," Ronnie 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 her thirty-three years, Ronnie could only remember a handful of times when her
mother had cried. No matter how much something upset Beatrice Cartwright, she kept it
inside, a trait she passed on to her oldest child. Yet the sight of her youngest child 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 warily.
"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 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 showing not 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 who
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--Oh mighty
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 snarled. "Maybe she'll even forget 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 gray
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
weary executive stayed where she was, hoping the bitter chill would freeze some of her
pain. Ronnie was torn between being angry with 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 young 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.
Ronnie took the jacket and hugged it to her chest. "Thanks. 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." She straightened 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 you were
upset." The redhead 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 she did not 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 I agreed with you about the drug thing."
"You did?"
The redhead nodded. "I thought maybe she would believe it more if I told her I
thought he was doing drugs too."
"What did she say?" Ronnie saw her answer on Susan's crestfallen face.
"She doesn't believe 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." She looked up at
Ronnie 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 good 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 to face the long evening of waiting around
as the wheels and paperwork of justice turned slowly.
*********************
The sound of a car door 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 executive appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry,
did I wake you?"
"No," she lied while turning on the lamp. "I wanted to be awake when you
came home anyway." Patting the empty space on the bed next to her, she asked,
"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." She shook her head. "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 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 her
companion. "Has he always had this animosity toward you?"
"No." Ronnie 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, 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 is 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
have 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 perhaps
it was better to wait than to push the issue. There were still parts of Ronnie that were
closed to her and she did not want to do anything to make her friend uncomfortable. She
settled back on her own side and waited for company under the covers.
Ronnie looked at the woman waiting for her 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 her companion's voice held the same tone
of regret as her own 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 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 just 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."
"Would you leave the door open so Tabitha can get in, please?"
"Sure. Good night, Hon."
"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 of a woman
torn between what she needed and wanted 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 lay 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 were her friend 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 fibbed.
There was silence for a moment before 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 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 leave 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 he thinks 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 you're staying 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 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 that."
"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 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 to 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."
Ronnie 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 they had 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 had 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 an awkward silence before Susan spoke again.
"That pen and pencil set you gave Ronnie is very nice."
"Thank you," the blonde replied. "She was complaining she could never
find a pen when she needed 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. 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, the young woman 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 the 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," she assured. "Ricky is playing pool
with his father so I thought I'd come out and see how everything was going." She
sniffed the air appreciatively. "Smells great."
"Mmm, 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 executive 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 her companion 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’d know you were the one that cooked it, for sure," 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
Rose's presence that truly made her enjoy the day.
********************
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 she 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 come up from behind. "Is there anything else that has to go in the
dishwasher?"
Susan jumped. "Oh God, Ronnie, I didn't know you were there," she said.
"I was just checking to see what John was doing," Together they watched the pair
for a few minutes. "She seems like a nice person."
"She is a nice person," Ronnie 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 last quick glance 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 ran her thumb
over the ridges on Rose's nails and an idea came to her. "Looks like you could use an
emery board."
The blonde 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 offered. "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, and was immeasurably
pleased 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, emery
boards, a bottle of polish 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 the neglected
nails. "Okay, so lets do some girl talk."
"Okay," Rose 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 quirked. "I understand there are
books out there…"
"Oh, you…" Rose gave a playful swat. "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."
Ronnie 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. Nowadays 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. "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. 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." She blushed at the memory.
"I never heard her come out."
"You were otherwise occupied?" Ronnie couldn't help smiling at her friend's
discomfort. "That must have been awful."
Rose nodded. "We weren't exactly doing that but we were pretty close. And
it was awful. She grounded me for the rest of the school year and I had extra chores from
then on."
"Jeez, I hope your next date went better." 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. She called his
parents too. I was humiliated. He wouldn't even talk to me at school because he got into
so much 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," she returned 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 for formal affairs."
"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. Not bony at all. Must be all that working out." Deciding
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 did not 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 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 big smile 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 from the 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. "Hey,
look how much smaller my hand is compared to yours." She pressed their palms together
and giggled 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 young. 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 talented," Ronnie said with a grin. "And I have 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 so pale that it's almost saffron." 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 T-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 gray shirt was removed.
"That's nice," Ronnie murmured.
"What's nice?"
"Best friend." She turned to meet soft green eyes. "That goes both ways,
you know. I've never had anyone I could talk to like you." On impulse she pulled Rose
into a hug.
At first the young woman 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 particularly 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. It’s just a little thing, no bigger 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 Ronnie'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 her hand had moved and was now gently stroking up and down a well-defined
bicep.
"Um…I think that's good, Rose."
"Hmm? Oh." Rose pulled her hands back and watched Ronnie put her T-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 executive 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 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 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 the 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 Rose wasn't going to lean back against her anymore. Disappointed that the
massage was over, Ronnie returned to the earlier task of braiding the blonde hair. Five
minutes before she had been content, cozy, and comfortable. Now her body felt cool without
the warmth of the smaller woman 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 a 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. 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
nerves. "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. Shifting for leverage, she 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 blonde 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. Pumping in, back, then in deeper
still, her fantasy lover brought her to the edge. Rose pushed 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. Rose felt herself teetering on the brink but was unable to fall over
the edge. Then her fantasy lover spoke 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
imaginary lover before falling limply back to the mat. Eyes closed, she lay 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 what 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, she set it back in the small basin on the night stand. 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. There was 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 her 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
few 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 several seconds 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 lay 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.
Continued in Part Nine
1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13
Accidental Love Ó 1998 B L
Miller. Do not distribute or copy without permission of the author except for
personal use. |
