by Anita Hughes
Rosie cried harder, rocking back and forth. Angelica let her rest her head on her shoulder. She waited till the sobs became hiccups and Rosie was finally still.
“You’d look terrible in a poufy dress,” Angelica suggested. “You should wear something sleek, like an Alexander McQueen sheath.”
“If you make me wear a satin bow as your maid of honor, I’ll cut it off.” Rosie hiccupped.
“I already designed your dress: lime green with white polka dots.”
“Like Katherine Heigl in 27 Dresses,” Rosie giggled.
“You’d look wonderful in green.” Angelica smiled. “It matches your eyes.”
Rosie started sobbing again, tears falling on her gold Manolos. “I’m sorry I didn’t agree to be your maid of honor right away.”
“I’m sorry I chased Josh away,” Angelica offered. “I had no idea you wanted to marry him.”
“You and Josh might not get along, but he’s everything I want,” Rosie said. “He’s handsome and funny and sweet. He’s completely honest; I would never doubt him.”
“He’ll come back,” Angelica insisted.
“He said he doesn’t know how to fight, he just walks away,” Rosie moaned. “What am I going to do?”
“I just played that scene in The Philadelphia Story. Katharine Hepburn jumps in the car and drives after Cary Grant. She tells him she loves him and they make up and live happily ever after.”
Rosie stood up and smoothed her dress. “Josh is proud and he was so hurt. I doubt anything I say will make it better.”
“There’s nothing a beautiful girl in a red dress can’t fix,” Angelica said confidently. “It works every time in the movies.”
* * *
The minute Angelica left the cottage, Rosie doubted Angelica’s advice. Angelica was drop-dead gorgeous like Angelina Jolie or Jessica Biel. No man could resist her. But Ben had walked away from Rosie, and Josh could do the same. Rosie needed to talk to someone who didn’t live on a movie set. She walked up to the house and looked for Estelle.
Estelle was perched on an armchair in the living room. An Irish setter nestled at her feet, and she flipped through Town & Country.
“Hi, Rosie.” Estelle put the magazine down. “I was reading about Vita Sackville-West’s garden at Sissinghurst. When we’re in Monaco we must take a quick trip across the Channel to England. I would love to see Sissinghurst in person.”
“It sounds lovely,” Rosie replied glumly.
“Are you all right? You have been going through a lot and I can understand if Angelica’s announcement upset you.” Estelle took off her reading glasses. “You look like you’ve been crying.”
“It’s not that exactly. I’m thrilled for Angelica and Dirk.” Rosie dropped into a floral armchair. “It’s Josh.”
“Did you tell him you didn’t want to move in with him?”
“Angelica did.” Rosie sighed. “And she left out the part that I wanted to marry him.”
“Angelica!” Estelle exclaimed. “I thought she and Dirk left this afternoon.”
“They had some business to finish up.” Rosie waved her hand. “Josh and I got in a fight and Angelica decided she would fix it.”
“You’re not making sense,” Estelle responded. “Start at the beginning.”
Rosie told Estelle about Colby’s offer and Josh’s insistence that she turn it down. She told her about Angelica stepping out of the Aston Martin and accusing Josh of holding her back.
“Then Angelica told Josh she overheard me telling you I don’t want to move in with him,” Rosie finished miserably. “He didn’t give me a chance to explain; he just walked out.”
“Oh dear,” Estelle murmured. “We both need a brandy.” She walked over to the bar and filled two shot glasses.
“I haven’t eaten anything,” Rosie protested.
“It’s medicine.” Estelle downed her shot. “I love my daughter, but she can be quite heartless. Sometimes I wonder if I spoiled her as a child.”
“Angelica thought she was doing the right thing,” Rosie defended her friend. “She didn’t know I wanted to marry Josh.”
“What are you going to do?” Estelle inquired.
“I was hoping you’d tell me what to do,” Rosie said. “You and Oscar are the happiest couple I know.”
“We are happy,” Estelle agreed. “But we give each other lots of room to be quarrelsome. It’s the benefit of having a big house; you can walk away without leaving the grounds.”
“Angelica thinks I should find Josh and tell him I want to marry him,” Rosie replied.
“You can’t do that until you decide what to do about Rosie’s Fish Tacos.” Estelle rubbed the rim of her shot glass.
“But we need to decide that together, as a couple,” Rosie insisted.
“Having a big house doesn’t make you happy necessarily, and neither does marrying the man you love. You have to be happy with yourself first,” Estelle counseled. “When we were young, Oscar traveled all the time. Angelica and Sam were small and they fought like cats and dogs. If I didn’t have my roses, I would have been miserable. You have to do what you love and throw the rule book out the window.”
“I know.” Rosie smiled. “I stole your line.”
“Then apply it to yourself. Do you want to have fish taco shops all over the country?”
“It sounds exciting when Colby and Ryan describe it.” Rosie wavered.
“Be certain that’s your passion,” Estelle instructed. “Then tell Josh your decision. It’s up to him to see if it fits with his goals.”
“What if he doesn’t want to be with me if I accept the offer?” Rosie wondered.
“Then you weren’t right for each other,” Estelle said matter-of-factly. “I have to talk to Angelica. She mustn’t interfere with people’s lives; she could do some real damage.”
“I think she already has.” Rosie slumped in the armchair.
“If you love each other, you can fix it.” Estelle patted Rosie’s hand. “Take your time and think about what you want to do. Josh isn’t going anywhere.”
Rosie imagined Josh sitting in his kitchen, eating a turkey sandwich. She could almost smell the onions and the thick crusty bread. She wished she’d never heard from Colby and Ryan. She wished she were sitting beside Josh, asking him to pass the mayonnaise. They’d pile the dishes in the sink and go into the bedroom and make love on his lumpy mattress.
* * *
It was late afternoon and Rosie couldn’t remember how long she had been sitting in the Pullmans’ kitchen staring at an uneaten peanut butter sandwich. The brandy had made her nauseous and she needed to put something in her stomach. But the peanut butter stuck in her throat and the crusts seemed impossible to chew. She put the sandwich on the plate and rested her head on the table.
“I thought you’d be here,” Morris said from the door. “I ran into Mrs. Pullman. She told me the whole story.”
“I’ve messed everything up,” Rosie groaned. “I chased Josh away.”
“It sounds like Angelica had a hand in that.” Morris set a basket of shirts on the table. “If Angelica was younger, Mrs. Pullman would have grounded her.”
“You were right, Josh isn’t a mind reader.” Rosie lifted her head. “I should have told him how I felt in the beginning.”
“Let me tell you a story. I first met Ryan when he came to one of Oscar’s parties two years ago. He walked into the living room and I knew he was the one. We had a few nice conversations, but nothing was said.” Morris paused. “At the end of the weekend, he packed his suitcase. I knew if I didn’t say something he’d just drive away.”
“What happened?” Rosie asked.
“Let’s just say it took him a lot longer to pack,” Morris said mischievously. “Tell Josh how you feel.”
“Estelle said I can’t do that until I decide what to do about Colby’s offer,” Rosie replied.
“It sounds like a fabulous opportunity.” Morris nodded.
“I don’t know if it’
s right for me.” Rosie sighed. “I pushed numbers around at the studio and spent my days meeting with investors. I love having my own shop. The feeling of satisfaction of giving customers something they love. I even love being so tired at the end of the day I can barely drag myself into the bath. I feel like I’ve accomplished something.”
“But Rosie’s Fish Tacos would still be yours, only bigger.”
“I know,” Rosie agreed. “It all spins round and round in my head like a carousel.”
“You need to go someplace quiet where you can think,” Morris suggested. “If it was me, I’d take my basket of shirts to the laundry room and stand in front of a nice hot iron.”
Rosie sat up straight and looked at Morris. She glanced at the clock on the wall and jumped up.
“You’re brilliant!” She kissed Morris on the cheek and ran out of the kitchen.
* * *
Rosie entered the fish taco shop and found Patrick’s sister, Mary, wiping the counter. Four teenagers sat on stools, eating tacos and drinking orange sodas. A family clutched bags of tacos and whispered at the signed picture of Colby hanging on the wall.
“You’re supposed to take the whole day off,” Mary said. “I’m sorry the place is a mess, I’ve been swamped.”
“It looks great.” Rosie glanced at the white-and-red floor, the gleaming counter, the stove piled with saucepans and skillets. “I’d like to close up, so you can go home early.”
“Really?” Mary asked. “I’m supposed to meet two friends at the movies.”
“Go on.” Rosie nodded.
“You had a lot of happy customers.” Mary peeled off her apron. “And three requests for your autograph.”
Rosie tied an apron over her dress and stood behind the counter. She put a spoon in the guacamole and tasted it tentatively. She added a pinch of Hawaiian sea salt and stirred the bowl.
“Hi.” A girl of about ten approached the counter. “I came in earlier but you weren’t here.”
“I remember you.” Rosie smiled. “You were my first customer.”
“You’re really famous now,” the girl replied. “I read you’re going to marry Colby Young.”
“Hardly.” Rosie laughed. “Rumor has it he’s taken, and I’m too old.”
“I told my parents what you said about them having me in common.” The girl rested her elbows on the counter. “We started playing a game of naming all the things they had in common. They stopped fighting and they’re in Tahiti on their second honeymoon.”
“That’s wonderful.” Rosie beamed.
“I’m here with my aunt and uncle,” the girl continued. “They’ve been fighting too. I think they need some fish tacos.”
“How many would you like?” Rosie spread out tortillas.
“Two for them and two for me,” the girl said proudly. “I’ve grown two inches this summer. I eat all day long.”
Rosie prepared the girl’s tacos and slipped them in a bag with an extra side of guacamole. The girl skipped down the street and clutched the bag as if it was a present. Rosie chopped and sliced and rang up orders until the last customer left. She turned the sign to CLOSED and felt the delicious quiet after the hum of activity.
The store smelled of olive oil and onions and she realized she was starving. She spread lettuce and tomatoes on a tortilla and added grated cheese, grilled cod, and spoonfuls of guacamole. She scooped up the taco and bit into it, tomatoes and lettuce dribbling onto the counter.
Rosie had forgotten how good her fish tacos tasted. The guacamole was light and fluffy, the cod was seasoned just right. She made herself another taco, piling on shredded lettuce, juicy tomatoes, and adding a squeeze of lime.
She suddenly pictured the kitchen in their house in Santa Monica. She remembered sharing sandwiches with Ben: arranging layers of turkey, Swiss cheese, and Bermuda onions on French bread. For the first time, she didn’t flinch when she thought about Ben. She pictured his expression when he told her about Mary Beth, and she wasn’t heartbroken or angry.
Rosie collected taco baskets, realizing Ben was right to let her walk away. She didn’t want the fast-paced life of a movie executive. She didn’t want to wear well-cut suits and straighten her hair so she could flick it over her shoulders. Or sit in meetings and kiss up to producers and take lunches with drunken investors.
She wanted to stand in her own store, making delicious fish tacos. She wanted to count the money in the cash register and separate the bills with thick rubber bands. She wanted to go home to Josh and get up and do the same thing tomorrow.
Rosie grabbed her purse and locked the door. She would drive to Josh’s house and tell him she was refusing Colby’s offer. Her heart pounded and she walked quickly to her car. She would explain what she meant about not wanting to move in with him. Josh would wrap his arms around her and ask her to marry him.
“Rosie!” Rachel poked her head out of a shop door. “I have to show you something.”
“Can it wait a little,” Rosie asked. “I want to see but I’m in a hurry.”
“Please, it will just take a minute.” Rachel stepped onto the sidewalk. She wore a blue dress and a white leather belt. Her dark hair was curled and she wore her silver locket around her neck.
“You look very fancy.” Rosie eyed her outfit.
“I’ve been to see the inquisition.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Come in the shop, I have to talk to you.”
Rosie followed Rachel into the chocolate shop, breathing in the smell of cocoa and cinnamon. There were rows of pink marzipan, and orange-and-black chocolate pumpkins. A round table was devoted to a chocolate train with orange nougat cabooses.
“I can’t believe I’m putting out Halloween displays already,” Rachel groaned. “But tourists want to buy their Halloween candy before they go home.”
“It all looks delicious.” Rosie eyed a tray of dark chocolate truffles.
“Patrick proposed,” Rachel announced.
“Congratulations, that’s amazing news.” Rosie gave her a hug. “Tell me everything. When, where, what did he say?”
“It was a complete surprise,” Rachel gushed. “I was helping him make sandwiches at the delicatessen. He said wouldn’t it be great to have a cafe attached to the deli: just a few tables where people could sit and eat. He took my hand and led me to the shop next door. It used to be a wine bar but the owner moved to San Francisco. He showed me where he could break through the wall and make it one big space. Then he handed me a blue velvet box.” Rachel paused. “I opened it and I almost started crying. Inside was a key.”
“A key to what?” Rosie wondered aloud.
“Patrick had already leased the space. He said he wanted a bigger income because he wanted to marry me and have at least four children. Then he got down on one knee and pulled this ring out of his pocket.” Rachel displayed a round diamond in a platinum setting.
“It’s gorgeous!” Rosie held it up to the light.
“I thought it would be some ancient ring belonging to his grandmother,” Rachel continued. “But Patrick said when he called my father and asked for my hand, Dad insisted Patrick see a jeweler he knows in LA.”
“Patrick called your father?” Rosie asked.
“It was the scariest thing he’d ever done.” Rachel nodded. “But he said if the only thing stopping him from spending the rest of his life with me was a man who ate lox and bagels, he better learn to love lox. He overnighted my father a case of gefilte fish and they’ve been friends ever since.”
“I’m so happy for you.” Rosie smiled.
“We just came from his grandmother’s.” Rachel shuddered. “I thought she was going to put a curse on me. She held my hands so tightly they turned blue, and then she hugged me and started crying. She had been praying she’d live long enough to see a great-grandchild. She made me promise if it’s a girl I’d call her Edna after her mother.”
“I hope you kept your fingers crossed behind your back.” Rosie laughed.
“I sort of like Edna,” Rachel mu
sed. “Now we have to find a rabbi and a priest who’ll marry us, and whittle the guest list down from four hundred. The whole Gold clan is coming from New Jersey, and Patrick has twenty-three cousins.”
“You’ll be the most beautiful bride in Montecito,” Rosie insisted.
“We can have a double engagement party,” Rachel suggested. “You and Josh should join us.”
“I’m not sure we’re still together.” Rosie flinched.
“Josh adores you. What happened?”
Rosie told Rachel about Colby’s offer and Angelica’s surprise appearance in the garage.
“I heard a rumor you were expanding Rosie’s Fish Tacos,” Rachel said. “Are you going to accept it?”
“I considered it. But I came to work this afternoon and realized I just want to stand in my own shop and sell tacos.”
“I’m exactly the same. I never wanted to own department stores in five cities,” Rachel agreed. “That’s a recipe for headaches.”
“Now I have to tell Josh.” Rosie took a deep breath. “I’m afraid he won’t see me.”
“If I could face Patrick’s grandmother, you can tell the man who adores you that you love him.” Rachel unwrapped a toffee and popped it in her mouth.
“I have to try.” Rosie nodded.
Rachel grabbed a box of fudge wrapped in gold tissue. “Take this to celebrate when you make up.”
* * *
Rosie drove to Josh’s house and felt a surge of adrenaline. If Angelica and Rachel could have happy endings, she could make it work with Josh. She pictured walking arm in arm on the beach, watching the waves roll in. She pressed her foot on the accelerator and drove faster. She had to reach Josh before he closed himself off, before the wounds became too big to heal.
Rosie punched Colby’s number into her phone. She told him her decision, hoping she wouldn’t hurt his feelings.
“You can’t turn it down,” Colby urged. “It’s like turning down Santa Claus.”
“It’s a wonderful offer,” Rosie assured him. “It’s just not right for me. I don’t want more. I just want what I have.”