Thorns of Rosewood

by G M Barlean

  “About an hour,” Betty slurred then waved her hand at Sully to bring another round.

  Tanya’s arm draped across the table and her head rested on top of it.

  “What’s up with her?” I pointed.

  “She was fired this morning.” Betty pushed out a chair and I took it.

  Sully arrived with drinks and asked what I wanted.

  “Just a Coke.”

  “She’ll have a Jack and Coke,” Betty said.

  “Whoa, it’s morning, ladies. What the hell’s going on here?”

  Sully waited.

  Betty leaned in. “You made us drink when Mari died. Now you drink. Tanya’s been fired, Josie lost her contract at the school, and I’m going to quit my damn job because Naomi has spread the rumor around town that Josie and I are lesbians and my boss apparently believes it.” Betty sat back and crossed her arms, then challenged me with a glare. “Those good enough reasons for ya?”

  I looked up at Sully. “Make it a Jack and Seven and you may as well bring three. Looks like I have some catching up to do.”

  Chapter 27

  Before Gloria could even make a comment, Tanya picked up the story where Debbie left off. The clock read five o’clock, and these women didn’t seem to want to stop. Normally this is when she’d take off for home, but she’d listen to one more segment before she left.

  Tanya Wishes Naomi Dead—1974

  We gobbled up greasy burgers and fries around one in the afternoon and switched to soft drinks about the same time. Coffee followed, badly needed. On my third cup of coffee, reality began to set in. Around four thirty in the afternoon, we pulled ourselves together. A strange mixture of whiskey, cola, coffee, cigarette smoke, and grease hung in the air and on our breath.

  “Oh, heaven help me. I have to go home and tell Rusty. He’s going to blow his top.” I hoped I would be able to keep down the contents of my stomach, but it seemed unlikely.

  “I can’t imagine he’ll yell at you,” Josie offered and patted her hand on my arm.

  “Oh, he’s not going to be mad at me. He’s going to want to tear up the street, racing to kick ass at Talbot’s house.” I laid my head down onto my folded arms.

  Josie nodded. “Oh dear. I hadn’t thought of that.” She cradled her coffee cup under her nose and hid behind it.

  “Let him.” Debbie stewed over her coffee. “It’s high time someone taught Naomi a lesson.” Cigarette smoke clouded the air.

  Betty stood up and walked away, then turned abruptly and came back. “Why in the hell are we hoping some man is going to fix this for us? Seriously. We thought Doug would do something, but all these years he hasn’t. We hoped the chief of police would do something, but we were kidding ourselves. Now we think Rusty’s going to solve the problem? He won’t. He can’t. Only we know the havoc she’s wreaked. We’re the ones who need to face her.” Betty thumped her fist on the table. “We have to stand up to her if we ever want to get past this.”

  “It’s that or move away.” Josie’s voice sounded weak, but her look was determined. “Come on, girls. Let’s move away. This town will always have Naomi in it. We’ll always hate her, and she’ll always try to ruin our lives. Until she dies, we’re stuck with this situation. Our only hope is to leave.”

  “Until she dies.” I stirred my coffee, poured more sugar in the cup, and tested the words. “So maybe she needs to die.” I couldn’t look up. I waited and wondered what they would say.

  Debbie pointed. “Now see, I like the way Tanya is thinking. Finally we have a solution that makes sense.”

  Betty didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s a joke, of course. I know Tanya doesn’t mean it and neither do you, Debbie. Still, we need to go confront Naomi. We need to end this. And we need to do it tonight.” She sounded dead serious.

  No one said a word, but we all nodded in agreement. Deep down, I believed my first sentiment. I hadn’t been joking. Naomi didn’t deserve to live, and no one would miss her anyway. But how to get rid of her was a question I’d keep to myself.

  Chapter 28

  It looked as though Josie wanted to take up the story next, and without a doubt, Gloria wanted to hear it. But Linda Weldon came into the sun room and broke up the session.

  “It’s getting late, ladies.” Linda came up to the table. “Dinner in ten minutes. Can’t let you miss a good meal.”

  Josie glanced to the clock on the wall, and Tanya checked her smart phone.

  “It is getting late. The rest of the story can wait. We’d better stick to our schedule.” Tanya patted Linda on her hand. “You take such good care of us.” She gave her a smile.

  Gloria sighed. It had been long day and her own stomach growled. If she wanted to get a jog in before dark, she’d better be on her way.

  “Ladies, Linda’s right. It’s five thirty and I’d better let you all have your dinner.” Gloria stood up.

  Josie’s face fell. “Well, okay. Maybe you should come early on Tuesday, because this is where the story gets good.”

  Josie—always the problem solver.

  “Good idea. I’ll be here around one thirty. See you next week.”

  Gloria chuckled as she thought about those old women all sitting in the bar, drinking away their problems. Of course they were younger women then, but still. Debbie, she could see, but the rest—the image remained hard to conjure.

  It made her think back to her college years and her friend Leslie and the parties and hangovers they had back in the day. Wonder what Leslie has been up to lately? When her friend had moved away to New York, Gloria gave up on trying to find another friend to replace her. The hole she’d left was too big to fill. It was hard to be so attached to people and then lose them. And Leslie had a big life up there in the city. She probably wouldn’t even want to talk to tiny potatoes like Gloria.

  She had barely walked in the door of her house when her landline started ringing. Caller ID said it was Karen Larson. Her hand hovered over the phone. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d chatted. Oh, an e-mail here and there let her folks know she was alive, but a real chat—she couldn’t. Somehow it felt wrong. Her mother would ask her how the interviews were going. Gloria knew it made her mother uncomfortable. It made her uncomfortable, too.

  Too many rings. She had to pick up.

  “Hi, Mom. Just walked in the door. How are you?” Gloria shook her head. Too chatty. Too perky.

  “Sweetie. I haven’t heard your voice in so long. How are you?”

  “Fine, fine. Just busy. Sorry I haven’t called you. I have a lot on my plate right now.” Gloria went to the bedroom and started changing into more comfortable clothes, the phone cradled between her shoulder and cheek.

  The call continued. Her mother kindly avoided asking anything too inquiring. Just surface stuff. All the same, Gloria was relieved when the call ended. She needed to get this story, and she needed to find out which one of these women was her birth mother. It was like a hunger pang she had to feed. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but she would have to understand. And in a deep place in her subconscious, Gloria knew no matter what, her real mother, the one who raised her, would be patient and let her do what she had to do and still love her unconditionally when it was all said and done.

  That’s what real mothers do.

  Gloria had a dinner of salad and a tuna sandwich. Gourmet cooking would never be her idea of a good time. But running was another story. She couldn’t wait to work up a sweat and feel her muscles as she pounded the pavement.

  A wave here and a shouted hello there, and she soon found herself on a country road headed out of town. The leaves had changed color. Crisp air pushed her to run even harder, and as her heart beat in her ears, she thought about Ronnie and decided thoughts about the Thorns of Rosewood could wait for next week.

  She had no idea what she and Ronnie would be doing the next night. She hadn’t had the presence of mind to ask him, so how to dress remained a question. But the idea of a surprise was great fun.


  Before she knew it, she’d made her way around the section and headed back into town. Thinking always made the run go faster. Soon, Mabel’s little house and Mabel herself came into view. Gloria didn’t even wait for an invitation. She plopped down into the aluminum lawn chair beside the old woman, panting and happy as hell.

  “Well, don’t you look pleased with yourself?” Mabel wore a big smile. “I hear you’re going to have your second date with my Ronnie.” The old gal rubbed her hands together.

  “I most certainly am. It’s why I stopped. I wanted to thank you for telling him about me. So far I’ve really enjoyed his company.” Gloria stood back up and started to stretch out her muscles.

  “Well, sweetie, you certainly must have made an impression on him. From what I hear, he has special plans for you tomorrow.” Mabel looked as though she would burst with her secret.

  “Tell me. Tell me now.” Gloria wanted to squeal like a little girl getting a present, but she toned it back to a large grin.

  “Nope. I won’t spoil his fun.” Mabel shook her head back and forth.

  “You have got to be kidding. You can’t do that to me, Mabel. I don’t know how to dress. I don’t know if I should eat before he comes or if I should wait. You have to throw me a bone here. You don’t want me to disappoint him, do you?”

  “All I’m going to tell you is don’t eat first. The rest, you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

  Gloria tossed and turned until one in the morning, the time of day she had begun to associate with house cleaning. Then she got up and proceeded to do just that.

  She swept and vacuumed, dusted, and made sure the kitchen gleamed. She purposely didn’t clean her bedroom because Ronnie wouldn’t be seeing her bedroom for a long time. She was many things, but easy was not one of them.

  After cleaning, she began to try on different clothes and concluded she hated absolutely everything in her closet.

  Finally she gave up and flopped down on her bed. She’d wear what she always wore. No time to try to be something she wasn’t. She was a jeans and simple shirt kind of gal, and that’s exactly what she’d be tomorrow night. He’d have to get used to it or take her shopping. Either would be fine with her.

  Morning came fast and the workday went even faster. She pawned off covering the high school basketball game on one reporter, but she still didn’t escape the office until almost six. After hurrying home, she tried to make herself look fresh and pretty. She had no idea how in the world to accomplish such a feat in less than an hour, but working under pressure had always been a challenge she willingly accepted.

  Gloria was staring at a bottle of perfume in her hand when the doorbell rang. She threw it back in the bottom drawer. Soap was her fragrance anyway. She couldn’t commit to eau de anything. The women at work who apparently bathed in perfume had turned her off scents altogether.

  She took one last look in the mirror—she was as good as she was going to get. She took off out of the bathroom and started running to the front door, then forced herself to slow down.

  Just breathe.

  The sun lolled in the pinkish-gray sky. Not quite sunset, but getting nearer by the minute. A hint of light painted the side of Ronnie’s face. It only made him better looking.

  “Come in.” She held the door open wide and tried to be cool.

  Ronnie wore jeans and a polo. Good. Nothing fancy.

  He walked around her kitchen like a surveyor. He peeked into the living room, turned, and said, “This is going to work fine.” He grinned from ear to ear. “I have a few things I need to get from the car, but let’s get this out of the way first. He walked over, cupped her face in his hands, leaned down, and kissed her.

  Firm. Warm. Not lusty. Just a nice kiss.

  It took her breath away.

  He straightened back up and smiled. “There. I’ve been wanting to do that since the parking lot.” His eyes twinkled, and he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Now the fun begins.”

  Off he went, out the door to his car. As she watched, he unloaded full paper bags from his trunk, then hustled back up to the house. He came in and deposited the bags on her kitchen table.

  Groceries. Fresh vegetables and packaged meat, even fresh herbs. She didn’t have a clue what to do with fresh herbs.

  He turned to her with a broad smile. “Did I mention I really like to cook?” Out of one of the bags, he pulled a red-checkered tablecloth. “And I’m hoping you’re up for a little picnic on your living room floor.”

  Dear God, please don’t let him be a serial killer because I think I just fell in love.

  Later, her stomach was full of amazing food and her lips were swollen from proper kissing. She waved good-bye from her front step, went inside, and closed the door behind her.

  She hadn’t felt this mixture of exhaustion and excitement since she was young. He’d even washed the dishes, leaving her house as spotless as when he’d arrived. And the best part was, she could still smell him in the air. It smelled like garlic, tomatoes, and shaving lotion. She liked it just fine.

  It occurred to her that the first thing she used to do after a date was call her friend Leslie. But now that Leslie was gone, what could she to do with these emotions bouncing around in her head like bubbles? Her possibilities were limited. Her mother? No. Mabel? Absolutely not. What she needed was someone her own age—someone who could relate to the euphoria she was feeling.

  She punched the digits into her cell and waited, but not too long before she heard her friend’s familiar voice.

  “Hey, Leslie. It’s Gloria.” Her words sounded tentative. Hopeful.

  They chatted for over an hour.

  Chapter 29

  Turned out that even in the midst of all the excitement of New York, Leslie still had issues similar to Gloria’s. She was still finding it hard to find a guy she felt really connected with and even harder to find a group of friends she clicked with. She described her life as routine. Her mother even pestered her like Gloria’s did.

  Good to know she had company, but it meant she had to stop using small-town life as a crutch for not doing the things she wanted to do.

  Gloria no longer felt like she looked up at the world from the bottom of a lake, but more like she treaded on top, maybe was even swimming toward shore. She had a guy in her life, and it seemed like it might actually turn into something. She’d made contact with a friend whom she’d been, in all truth, embarrassed to call because she thought her life didn’t measure up. Hard to admit you aren’t sure your life is going the right direction to someone you think is a raging success. And, best of all, she had all the makings, so far at least, for a great book. Things were looking up.

  Now all she had to do was decide if she really wanted to ask those four sweet, cranky, funny old women if any of them had given birth to her. She had reached the point where she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  When she walked through the doors to the sunroom at Meadowbrook, it didn’t take but a moment to draw her thoughts back to where they needed to be… attentive to these women and their plight from 1974. They appeared as enthusiastic to start telling the story again as she was to hear it.

  Josie Offers to Drive—1974

  I vowed to never drink again as I dug through my purse then handed my money to Sully.

  He took the cash and counted it. My head throbbed and my last burp smelled like whiskey, onions, and coffee—unpleasant to say the least.

  The old man at the end of the bar slept soundly, snoring, his face flat on the counter. Sounds from a ball game coming from the radio filled the air. The whole bar smelled like an ashtray and grease.

  “Shouldn’t you do something about him?” I asked, pointing at the old man.

  Sully didn’t so much as look his direction. “Nah. He’ll wake up in an hour or so. He does this every day.” He shrugged. “This is kinda like his home, ya know?”

  I shivered at the idea of such a sad existence. Yet, here I was. How could I judge? And I was newly rumored t
o be the town’s lesbian teacher who’d been fired for sexual misconduct. Seriously. Who did I think I was, anyway? My head throbbed again. I needed an aspirin.

  We all moved to the front door and opened it wide. The late afternoon sun shocked me like a flashbulb from a camera. I squinted and turned my head aside. “So. What now?”

  Betty drew her sunglasses from her purse and slipped them on. “Now we go confront Naomi.”

  Tanya shot nervous glances up and down the sidewalk, her gaze stopping at the man leaning on the hood of his car. Doug Junior. “Keep your voices down.” She tilted the top of her head in his direction. The rest of us looked his way.

  Junior had been in and out of the bar all day. He’d come in, have a drink while standing at the counter, talk to Sully, look at his watch, and then leave again. When he was in the bar, we’d bring our heads together and whisper or stay silent. Now I thought back over the day and hoped we hadn’t slipped up and spoken too loudly.

  “Junior’s too stoned to hear or care what we’re saying.” Debbie shook her head and flicked the ash of her cigarette away.

  “How can you tell?” Tanya asked.

  “I just can. Besides, why else would have he kept checking his watch and leaving? He probably met with a drug dealer or something.” Debbie crushed the butt under her toe on the dirty cement in front of the bar.

  I wasn’t sure I bought Debbie’s assessment, but this didn’t seem like the time to argue.

  “Don’t worry about it. We have other things to concern ourselves with.” Betty drew their attention. “Let’s take one car. Stay calm and get what information we can out of Naomi. We can’t leave until she understands this vendetta has to stop. We have to make her comprehend the gloves are off and we’re going to start fighting back if she doesn’t rein it in.”