Accidental Love

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Accidental Love Page 7

by BL Miller


  Duran Duran blared through speakers placed throughout the large room while Ronnie pushed her calves and thighs to the limits on the stair climber. In her own private haven, no one could hear her singing to the music, see the sweat forming on her brow, neck and chest, or notice the way she pushed herself. She prided herself on her fit body and strength but both required constant maintenance. Twenty minutes climbing stairs that never went anywhere and she moved on to the next piece of equipment, taking the time to tie her hair up to keep it off her face and the back of her neck. She checked the amount of weights on the bar before lying down on the bench, pulling the bar off of its rest, and bringing it down to her chest. She wiggled her fingers to make certain her hands were in the proper position and began her grueling repetitions, pushing the barbell up to maximum height before lowering back down to her chest. Then it was off to the leg press, the crunch machine for her abdominals, the forearm grips, then the skiing machine for a good overall workout. By the time the CD was finished, Ronnie was a mass of well-earned sweat and muscles that begged for a break. She threw the soaked towel into the hamper near the door and made her way back to her bedroom where she peeled the sweat covered spandex from her body and entered her bathroom. Her showerhead sent pulses of hot water against her body, massaging while cleaning. Ten minutes with the hair dryer and Ronnie was refreshed and ready to face whatever the day had to offer.

  Snow had fallen during the night, covering the city with a light coating of white. The bright blue Cherokee made its way up the narrow Albany streets, fighting the rest of the Friday morning traffic. She found a parking space on Morris Street and carefully made her way up the stairs to retrieve Rose's mail. She picked through it, planning on leaving the junk mail for Cecil to deal with when one small envelope caught her attention. She tucked it into the inside pocket of her bomber and returned to the warmth of her sport vehicle. Only then did she pull it out and examine the return address. D. Bickering, RR 3 Box 4120, Cobleskill. Cobleskill, known more for its agricultural college than anything else, was a small village over an hour away from Albany. It was thought of as being mostly farmland, although there were a fair number of residents in the area. The overwhelming majority was either farmers or people who were willing to travel forty minutes or more to get to work each day, so far from any real cities was the village. Ronnie shoved the letter back into her pocket and put the Jeep into gear, determined to get to the hospital and hand the letter to Rose before the urge to go home and steam the envelope open got the best of her. She desperately wanted to know how the mysterious Delores Bickering fit into Rose's life and why the young woman with no money was writing checks to this person.

  Ronnie arrived just as the nurse finished checking Rose's vitals. As expected, the young woman's face showed the pain that the drugs could not completely erase. "Hey you," she said softly, drawing Rose's attention from the nurse to her.

  "Hi," the blonde woman smiled. "Looks like the snow got you."

  "Just a little," Ronnie replied, brushing the melting flakes off her dark hair and the shoulders of her soft brown jacket. "Should I come back in a little while?"

  "I'm almost done," the nurse said without looking up from her task. She stood and made several notations on Rose's chart. "There. All finished for now." She peeled the latex gloves off into the red waste container. "Doctor Barnes will be in to see you in a little while," she said before leaving the two women alone.

  Curiosity won out the instant they were alone. Ronnie pulled the envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Rose. "Here's your mail."

  The smile that had been on the young woman's face melted at the sight of the writing on the envelope. She opened it and read the words written on spiral bound notebook paper while Ronnie set her attaché down on the floor and hung her coat over the back of the chair before taking her usual seat next to the bed. Rose was quiet as she finished reading the letter and put it back into the envelope. "Could you do me a favor and bring me my checkbook tomorrow?"

  "Is something wrong? Anything I can help with?"

  "No, it's just something I have to take care of." She could not bring herself to meet the piercing blue eyes looking at her. "I hate to ask, but could you spare an envelope and a stamp too?"

  "Of course, Rose," Ronnie replied, still dying with curiosity about the contents of the letter.

  "Look…if you have a debt that you need help paying…" She regretted the words instantly, thinking that her new friend would be offended.

  "No, it's not that. It's from someone I used to live with." Rose's head never lifted up and her whole mannerism changed, withdrawing into herself.

  "A boyfriend?"

  "A foster mother. I lived with her for about two years. She took care of me when no one else would." The blonde woman's shoulders slumped and she let out a defeated sigh. "She's had a hard time since the state took away all the kids she was caring for. You don't want to hear about this," she said, giving her new friend a way out if she wanted it.

  "Sure I do," Ronnie said, reaching over to clasp the smaller hand within her own. "That letter seemed to really bother you. Care to share?" She expected Rose to elaborate a little about Delores but was surprised to find the letter pushed into her hand.

  "I think that will pretty much explain everything."

  Ronnie looked at Rose before opening the envelope and reading the letter.

  Rose,

  I haven't heard from you for a while. Things are really hard here. I can barely keep a roof over my head much less anything else. The idiots at social services don't understand nothing I tell them. I know your busy with your life and don't have time for an old lady like me but you have to remember that I took care of you when no one else would. I opened my home to you, gave you food and made sure you got to go to school. You've been good about trying to help me but I really need more than what you've been sending. You know it costs a lot to feed someone else's kid. Without me you would have starved. I was there when you needed someone to take care of you. I'll be looking forward to whatever pit…pittnce…whatever little amount you can send me.

  Your auntie Delores

  Ronnie folded the note back up and shoved it into the envelope, trying to keep her temper in check, which was quickly becoming hard to do. Setting the envelope down on the bed tray, she gripped the side rails of the bed so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She took several breaths to try and calm down before feeling green eyes looking at her expectantly. "You don't owe her, Rose," she said through gritted teeth, unable to bring her head up to meet the gaze.

  "I feel like I do," the young woman said sadly. "When I was living with her, there were four of us. She always made it clear that the state didn't give her enough to take care of us."

  "Bullshit." Ronnie stormed out of her seat and went to the window, looking out at the light snow falling. "I have no right to tell you what to do with your money, Rose, but she's just using you, playing on your sympathy. As long as you keep giving her money, money that you can't afford to spare, she'll just keep coming back for more." She turned to look at the young woman. "Did she once thank you for the money you've sent so far? No, she just said that you needed to send more. She is guilting you into giving her money. Whatever debt you think you owe her, it's been paid long ago. Now she's just sucking you dry." Not wanting to upset Rose any more than she was, Ronnie returned to her seat and lowered her voice, "Not once did she ask how you were doing, not even one kind word. That letter was nothing more than 'send me money'. You don't deserve to have your kindness taken advantage of like that, Rose. You're too good a person to be treated like that."

  "She's the closest thing I have to family," the young woman protested, albeit weakly. She had never shared this problem with anyone else before and was surprised to see her friend's reaction. Rose had heard for so long about how she owed Delores for taking care of her that she believed it to be a debt that she would never be able to repay, regardless of her personal feelings about it. To have someone voice the feelings that ha
d been buried deep inside her was something she did not expect.

  "You don't need family like that. You deserve better," Ronnie said. She gave a resigned sigh. "I told you I would bring you your checkbook and I will. I'll also bring you the stamp and envelope but I really wish you'd think about this before you send her any more money." She reached out and took Rose's hand in her own. "Promise me that you'll give this some thought first, okay?"

  "Okay," the young woman replied, drawing a smile from Ronnie. "Let's talk about something else instead, okay?"

  "Sure, name it."

  "Why don't you tell me about your family? I'd love to hear about them."

  "It's not as interesting as you might think." Ronnie was going to try and worm her way out of it but the expectant look on Rose's face changed her mind. "All right, but I'll warn you, it's pretty boring." She shifted in her seat, wishing she had worn jeans instead of her dress slacks. "I'm the oldest of three. There's me, Susan, and Tommy. Susan is the complete opposite of me. She runs Cartwright Insurance. She's married to Jack; he's a lawyer downtown." She grinned as if sharing some big secret. "Susan wears more makeup than Tammy Faye Baker and she thinks she's a knockout. But she can add numbers in her head faster than a calculator and brought the insurance division up from average earnings to being one of our leading revenue producers. I have to warn you though, don't ever let her catch you alone at a party. My sister is the biggest gatherer of gossip and information in the state. Once she gets hold of you she won't let go until she knows everything down to your blood type."

  "What about your brother?" Rose asked, watching as the smile left Ronnie's face.

  "Tommy is a lost soul. He's twenty-five but he still acts like a teenager. It took him six years and three colleges to get his Bachelor's because he wouldn't apply himself. The family insisted that I put him in charge of something so I gave him the Real Estate division." She sighed. "I figured it was doing so well that he couldn't do anything to mess it up. Now we're posting the worst growth since the recession and he acts like it doesn't matter. That's why I had to go back to the office yesterday. I hate irresponsibility."

  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Barnes. "How are you today, Miss Grayson?" she asked.

  "Same as yesterday, I guess," Rose replied. "Oh, Doctor Barnes, this is my friend Ronnie. Ronnie, this is Doctor Barnes." She did not see the smile form on Veronica's face at the title bestowed on her.

  "Hello," the physician said. She looked at Rose's chart for a moment and made a notation. "Well, Miss Grayson, it looks like everything is healing up just fine." She set the chart down and moved to the head of the bed to check the stitches on Rose's cheek. "The bones are properly set and I see no reason why you can't go home."

  "Home? But…" She looked fearfully to Ronnie for help.

  "How can you send her home? She can't even walk yet," the black-haired woman said, falling into the role of protector easily. It seemed a natural thing to do when it came to Rose.

  "Look Miss…"

  "Cartwright, Veronica Cartwright."

  "Miss Cartwright," the doctor corrected, unimpressed with the tall woman's name. "There's nothing more that we can do for her right now. Her body is reacting well to the treatment. There's nothing more to do except wait for the bones to heal."

  "But she can't walk yet," Ronnie protested.

  "She won't be able to walk for the better part of a year," the doctor replied. "There's no sign of infection, the thinning agents have kept any clots from forming and the swelling has gone down to an acceptable level. At this point there's nothing else the hospital can do except give her a bed. I'll write her a prescription for the pain and she should come back next Friday to have the stitches on her face removed. At that time I'll look at her legs and ankle then we'll see where we go from there."

  Rose's breathing increased and she looked ready to cry. Ronnie quickly leaned over the bed, blocking the young woman's view of the bearer of bad news. "Rose," she whispered. "Let me take care of this. I promise everything will be okay."

  "I can't…I don't…"

  "Shh. Let me handle this. Trust me." She spoke softly, as if calming a small child. "Do you trust me?" She received a shaky nod. "I promise everything will be fine."

  "But…"

  "Trust me, Rose." She maintained her gaze, letting deep blue search out and calm green, silently trying to convey that everything would be all right.

  Finally the younger woman let out a heavy breath and nodded, placing her life in the hands of the woman who seemed so willing to help her. As scary as the prospect seemed, there was a comfort in knowing that Ronnie was there for her.

  "What do I need to know about caring for her?" Veronica asked, turning her attention to the doctor.

  "I'll have the nurse show you how to properly bathe her to prevent infections. I suggest you get a home health aide or a private nurse if you can afford it." That comment earned a raised eyebrow from the woman who had donated six figures to the hospital last year. "The important thing is making sure the wounds are kept clean." She made another notation on the chart. "I'll have an instruction sheet prepared to explain exactly what needs to be done each day."

  "Fine," Ronnie said, her mind already figuring out which room would be turned into a recovery room. It was an unexpected turn of events, but one that she was able to handle. She dimly noted it was not guilt making her open up her sanctuary to Rose, it was something stronger--concern and caring. Somewhere in the course of trying to make up for her mistake, Veronica Cartwright had begun to care. "Whatever it takes to make her better."

  "I'll have the nurse give you all the details. I'll sign the discharge papers before I start the rest of my rounds." She turned to look at her patient. "I'm sorry, Miss Grayson, I've heard you've become rather fond of our food." Her attempt at humor was not received as well as she hoped, earning only a weak smile from the blonde. "Well, if there was any way I could justify keeping you here, I would."

  "I know," Rose replied. "Thank you."

  "Don't forget to make an appointment with our outpatient clinic to have those stitches removed next Friday. Make certain they schedule the appointment with me and not with one of the physician's assistants. I want to take a look at those legs too."

  "I will."

  "I'll take care of it," Ronnie said firmly, leaving no doubt in the young doctor's mind that her patient would be well taken care of.

  ********************

  It was a busy afternoon for Veronica. Her portable cell phone was constantly on, draining the battery down enough the executive had to resort to using the phone in Rose's room to complete her preparations. She called a surgical supply company to purchase a hospital bed, wheelchair, and various other things that the nurse insisted were necessary for Rose to recuperate properly. But no matter how hard she tried, Ronnie was unable to get them to deliver the bed that day. In frustration she told them to just deliver the other items and called several furniture stores until she found one that sold adjustable beds. Even that took some work to convince them to send a truck out with it that day. Then she had to call Maria to let her know what was going on. She explained to her trusted housekeeper which room they were to go in and what items needed to be moved in order to make room for the new furniture. The next call had been to a private ambulance service to arrange for transportation from the hospital to her house for Rose. The remaining calls had been to the various agencies in an attempt to get a private nurse to come in on a long term, full time basis, then back to Maria again to fill her in on the latest developments.

  "Ronnie?" Rose called gently, drawing the tall woman's attention.

  "I've got to go, Maria. Call me on the Jeep car phone if there's any problems." She hung the phone up and sat on the edge of the bed. "I guess everything's ready. Now we're just waiting for the ambulance to arrive."

  "I don't know how to thank you," Rose whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

  "Shh…you don't need to be worrying about things l
ike that."

  "But no one's ever…I mean, it's so much…" Her eyes welled up with the heartfelt feeling.

  "Hey, it's no problem, remember? I promised that I'd take care of you." Ronnie reached out and caught a tear before it could roll down Rose's cheek. "Hey, none of that. Tabitha misses you and this is the perfect way to make sure that she has someone else to get her attention from so I can get some work done." She received the barest of smiles. "Besides, I've been alone for a long time. It'll be nice to have the company."

  Part 3

  As much as Ronnie wanted to ride in the ambulance with Rose to provide her comfort, there was the Jeep to consider and the idea of leaving it in Albany overnight was an unpleasant one. She had not gone near the Porsche since the accident, although she did notice that Hans had been over the day before to start the repairs. That left her with either the vehicle that did well in the snow or her prized 1967 Mustang to get around with and the Mustang would never see the salted winter roads of Albany if she could help it. Reluctantly she chose to let Rose ride alone in the ambulance while she followed behind in the Jeep.

 

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