by Liz Crowe
It had been a full month since the night she’d almost walked right in on the mysterious “something” between her fiancé and the woman who’d dropped into their lives at such an odd time, despite Antony’s vehement insistence to the contrary.
She had planned to surprise Antony that night with the good news that she’d finally been promised a spot in management training at the bank. She’d rushed from work after confirming Paul’s mom could pick Jeffrey up from daycare, and headed straight for the strip of offices, shops, and restaurants that housed Margot Hamilton, M.S.W., PhD, DD.
She’d spotted Antony’s truck, and AliceLynn’s subcompact in the lot, and sat in the car a few minutes, wondering how best to surprise him, proud of herself for being so grown up and mature about all of this. Especially considering that he seemed to enjoy his three hours a week with Margot more than the rest of the hours with her. She, Rosalee, had the man’s ring, she said in her head, with a thoroughly immature and uncharacteristic mental jolt.
At the scheduled session-time ending, AliceLynn came barreling out the office suite’s glass door, face streaked with tears. Rosalee watched her for a second then got out of her SUV.
“Go away,” the girl screeched. “God, I don’t want to talk anymore. All y’all do is talk me to death.” She swiped her hand across her eyes then climbed into her car. Her stormy expression made her look so much like her mother, Rosalee hesitated. AliceLynn kept glaring at the door she’d exited. Finally, Rosalee knocked on her window.
“What?”
“Is your Daddy still in there?”
“Yeah.” The sudden knowing glint in the girl’s eyes had made Rosalee uncomfortable. “He’s gotten hooked on…therapy. Now, if you’ll excuse me please, I’m late for work.”
Against her inner advice, Rosalee had walked up to the door and touched the cool silver handle. She’d been here once with Antony and his daughter. But it had seemed counter-productive. She hadn’t known how to act and had clammed up. Antony had obviously been unhappy about including her in it, too, so Margot declared the session “over” after about twenty minutes.
Rosalee pushed the door open, figuring they’d be out in the main reception area by now. But it was deserted. Head pounding, she marched over to the closed door and paused, running a mental pep talk in a familiar loop through her brain.
She and Antony were going to be married soon. She had every right to be here, right then, to take him away for a nice dinner to celebrate the first bit of good news she’d gotten in while.
“I can’t,” she’d been shocked to hear Antony say, his voice rough in a way she had not heard in years, not since the news came about Crystal’s accident. “I can’t be this…person they want me to be. Not anymore.”
“You don’t have to be,” Margot replied in a soft, soothing and thoroughly annoying voice. “Antony, look at me.”
“Yes, I do. I can’t….I—Oh shit—”
His words were cut off by a strange sort of silence, followed by the distinct sound of a kiss. Rosalee’s brain processed it then she walked away from the door, wobbly-legged, drove down to the river, and sat for a while, not really thinking, not really upset, not really surprised. Then she went to Aiden’s apartment, still dressed in her work clothes, claiming she wanted to “talk.” Which he had translated, correctly, into something else within minutes.
She knew Antony Love well by now. She sensed his intensity with regard to the therapist. Unlike the comfortable, broken-in chair kind of relationship they shared, it represented something much more, based on the sort of lightning-bolt reaction they’d had to each other when they’d first met. She’d witnessed it, both at that party and later, in the visitor’s lounge of the hospital. But the possessive female in her would not let him go. Not even after she’d committed the horrific sin of having sex with Aiden, at her instigation.
And now, here she was, a mature woman on the verge of marrying a man good for her, and she for him, even if they were both miserable at the thought of it.
But it was the right thing. Just ask anybody.
Most especially her future in-laws. Antony would not do anything to disappoint them, not for a million tall, blonde, sexy therapists. Not now that his mama seemed to be getting better, against all odds.
Rosalee sighed and turned to face her next, and hopefully final, customer, her mind already drifting to the things she had to do at the end of her short shift, including decorate for the Love’s Halloween party.
“Hey.” Aiden stood before her, dressed in his “professor costume” as Dom liked to call it—khaki trousers, light-blue button-down shirt, polished brown shoes, and matching belt.
She made the mistake of meeting his gaze, took in that crooked, boyish grin, and could taste and feel him all over again. “Hi. Whatcha got?” Her voice broke as she gestured for the paper in his hand, assuming it was a paycheck from the community college. “Nice shiner, by the way. Hope the other guy looks worse.”
After he handed it over in silence, she processed it, keeping her eyes on the screen and off him then gave him the receipt. The closeness of the community and of the Love family in particular needled her then. Antony had wasted no time informing her that Aiden and the sexy spa owner Renee were engaged.
“Nope. But then, you would know, since you sleep with him every night.” Aiden touched the nasty purple skin around his eye. “You know, just another friendly fraternal basketball game. I said something your fiancé didn’t care for. He fouled me. With his fist.”
“Oh. So, why come in? Don’t you usually use the ATM?” Something selfish and horrible in her wanted to hear it.
“Wanted to see you. How’s therapy going?”
She sucked in a breath at his obvious dig. “Great.”
She had insisted on participating in the session after hearing the illicit kiss on the other side of the therapy door, if only to study the bizarre and sudden connection between Antony and Margot Hamilton, the divorcée. She’d only seen glimmers of it, when Antony would shoot the woman a shy smile—which infuriated her, irrationally, but enough to make her non-communicative the rest of the session.
“Ah, well, then it’s good, I suppose.” He lingered, the gaze that haunted her guilt-ridden nights focused squarely on her. “I’m happy for you, Rosalee.”
“Stop it.” She glanced around, hoping to find something to do so she could get away from him.
“Stop what?”
“You know.” Shoving his elbows off her counter, she frowned in what she hoped was a firm, mature way. “Go.”
“I miss you and Jeffrey.”
“You’re the one making yourself scarce, not me.” Finding fake busy work closing down her station, she kept ignoring him. But he didn’t budge. Finally she sighed and turned back to face him. “Jeffrey asks about you all the time. You’ll be at your mama’s Halloween party, I assume?”
“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t dare miss a Love Party production—too risky. See you then, I guess. Got to teach one more class still this afternoon. I’ll be the big Batman. Thought Jeffrey might like that.” He winked at her and she flinched. Then he walked out, leaving her breathless and wondering what in the hell had possessed her to even consider flirting with the guy. She grabbed her phone and sent Antony a text.
I’m going out to help decorate. Can you grab Jeffrey?
It took about twenty seconds for him to reply.
Can’t, unless he can stay there until six. I’ve got a last-minute problem at garage. Just take him with you. Mama can handle him.
Rosalee blew out a breath at his casual assumption and answered back, trying not to sound as pissy as she felt.
I can’t let him see us setting up the decorations and stuff. It will be like spotting you wearing a Santa Claus suit. You do have your costume with you, right?
She had found them Peter Pan-and-Tinkerbell-matching getups at one of those temporary costume shops near the mall. Hers looked a whole lot slutty, but his had green tights he swore he would never wear for
anyone but her.
The Love family never missed the opportunity to throw a holiday-themed party. Since Halloween fell on a Friday that year, they were going all out despite Lindsay’s ongoing cancer treatments. The barn had been converted into a child-friendly haunted house, complete with apple bobbing, pin the tail on the vampire, the usual. And it was costume-mandatory for adults and children. At last count, there were a dozen children of various ages coming, mostly from church, along with their parents, plus the family, their friends and—she assumed—fiancées.
Rosalee had convinced Lindsay to use a caterer for most of it, thank the good Lord. But they still had a ton of decorating and setting up to do. Cursing under her breath, she headed toward the daycare, already concocting potential distractions for Jeffrey. Maybe she’d get lucky and Dom or Kieran would be there to play with him. The pool remained open as the muggy mid-Kentucky summer had eased into the sort of autumn that made her bank customers talk about the old days, and her son a cranky, sweaty mess most afternoons.
Son retrieved and stuffed into car seat, she made a quick detour to her house for costumes and Jeffrey’s swimsuit.
“Mommy!” he yelped when she got back in. The damn AC rarely worked anymore. It was like the inside of a tobacco barn in high-staking season in the SUV’s cab. “Hot!”
“I know, baby. Sorry.” She put all the windows down and cranked up his favorite Disney music.
The lack of recognizable cars in the Love family driveway did not bode well for Jeffrey-distracting potential. She set him on the gravel, and he immediately ran toward the glistening blue temptation of the pool.
“Stop!” she shouted, struggling with her bags of decorations and costumes. “Jeffrey. I mean it. I won’t let you come to the party if you don’t listen to me right now.”
He stopped and glared over his shoulder at her. The stuck-out lower lip and the glistening eyes made her chest tight with frustration.
“Come on inside where it’s cool, baby. I’ll let you have some of Miss Lindsay’s lemonade.”
He didn’t move other than crossing his arms and resembling her late husband when she’d ask him to help her clean the house. When he spotted the huge orange-and-black tent set up between the patio and pool he ran toward it.
“Mommy! A circus is here.”
“No, Jeffrey, it’s the Halloween party tent, remember? Antony told you about it last night at bedtime.”
He threw out his arms and spun in a circle. “Halloween! Halloween! Hallo—Mommy did you bring my Batman costume?” He stopped turning and staggered around like a drunken sailor.
“Of course. Batman is right here.” She jiggled the wardrobe bag where she’d hung both of their costumes after steaming out the wrinkles, and pondering sewing something more substantial into the cleavage of her sleazy Tink dress, before deciding she didn’t care at that point. Jeffrey took off for the patio ahead of her, stopping to plunge both grimy hands into a huge bowl of M&Ms that had been placed on the table for reasons that escaped her.
She sighed. In honor of Halloween, she decided to let him keep the few he managed to cram into his mouth, before shooing him toward the open door. But he grabbed another fistful and ducked under her arm, knowing if he made it into the house and onto Lindsay’s lap, she’d laugh and convince Rosalee to let him keep the damn things. Even though a sugar rush on top of his overtired state spelled disaster for anyone in a five-mile radius.
Rosalee adjusted the straps of the three decoration bags higher on her shoulder and followed him. When she heard a wail of dismay that could only be her son she ran the last few feet to the door, bags bouncing against her side, and spotted him sitting on his butt, glaring at something or someone inside the door.
As her eyes adjusted from the bright outdoor afternoon light, she saw the cool and classy Melinda, Kieran’s lady lawyer fiancée, with blood covering her torso.
“Oh, my heavens, what….” She stopped. No, not blood, but an entire tray of Mrs. Love’s secret-recipe baked beans. Rosalee dropped the bags and shoved Jeffrey out of her way so she could grab the huge glass container before it hit the floor.
The woman glared in horror down at her ruined clothes. Jeffrey was hollering about how the lady had run into him and dumped food on his head. One glance back at him proved him right. He had the amber-colored beans, flecked with bacon, green peppers and onions in his hair, with some dripping down his face.
“Can’t you control him?” Melinda finally managed to say as she glared down at her once pristine-white, and probably silk, blouse. “This is BCBG,” she muttered, taking a few swipes at her outfit. “I hope you have insurance.”
Rosalee lost the inner politeness battle and burst out laughing which made Jeffrey burst into tears. Melinda glowered at them both then flounced toward the steps up to the kitchen muttering about “hillbillies,” and wishing she’d never agreed to come out here to the boonies for the weekend.
“Come on, sweetie. I’ll stick you in the shower. It will cool you off.” Rosalee left the bags and costumes on the lower family room couch and picked up her squalling spawn. He wrapped his arms and legs around her, coating her cheek and shoulder with the delicious-smelling dish.
“That lady is mean,” he mumbled around his thumb.
“Jeffrey, big boys do not suck their fingers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Antony had begun instilling a bit more politeness in him. But Jeffrey’s relationship with him remained strained. Antony wasn’t “fun” like Aiden, her son liked to remind her.
She kissed his bean-covered hair and bypassed the kitchen. “I need to shower him off,” she called out.
“Do whatever you need to, honey. You know where the towels are.”
After singing Lion King songs, washing and shampooing, drying, and re-dressing him in his batman costume, Rosalee plunked her son in front of the ancient TV/VCR combo in Antony’s old bedroom, with a tape of Sesame Street, leaving him glassy-eyed and half-asleep before she left the room.
But when she saw the array of women at the table, she stopped and waited, taking it in. Renee sat with a tall glass of iced tea, perfectly put together as always. She’d been the captain of the cheerleading squad, the most popular girl, the girl Rosalee wanted to be, most days. Now, she appeared as if she’d been using a time machine. Her unlined, taut skin maintained a perfect shade of bronze. She’d straightened her dark-blonde hair for the occasion.
“I cannot believe Mama gave that punk our Nana’s engagement ring,” Antony had grumbled to Rosalee when he’d broken the joyous news of Aiden’s pending nuptials. “But he always was her favorite.”
The ring in question, a huge emerald, surrounded by perfect diamonds, mesmerized her. She gulped, and touched her throat, willing memories of Aiden out of her head.
Melinda sat there, too, utterly out of sorts in a Lucasville High basketball booster shirt instead of her BBG-or-whatever, fancy blouse, her face pinched and unhappy. Angelique was behind them, filling goodie bags with prizes and gifts.
Aiden’s little sister caught Rosalee’s eye and winked then tilted her head toward Renee and made a gagging motion with her finger. She jerked her chin toward Melinda and did it again. Rosalee frowned at her but then smiled, thankful the girl had taken a semester off school for her mama’s sake.
“It’s not like I’m gonna graduate with anything useful anyway,” she’d said to Rosalee one night, when she’d come over to have supper with them.
“Unless you can get a degree in ‘shitty boyfriend choices’ or ‘expensive car insurance,’” Antony had muttered into his iced tea.
Rosalee had smacked his arm, but noted the way his gaze softened when he smiled at his only sister.
“I am so lucky.” Lindsay patted first Renee’s then Melinda’s hands. “I’m gonna have such successful and smart daughters-in-law.” She met Rosalee’s eye. “All of y’all.” She gestured for Rosalee to step into the kitchen.
She did, but couldn’t help comparing her sweaty and frumpy s
elf to the other two, even with Melinda sporting an old T-shirt.
“I hear the big bank that bought the Lucasville Savings and Loan is gonna start layoffs soon,” Renee said, sipping her tea.
Rosalee tried not to glare at the woman who currently slept with and would soon marry Aiden. “Yes, that’s the rumor.” She smiled down at Lindsay. The woman’s hair had thinned so she wore bandanas every day to cover it up. Todays had little, black jack-o-lanterns on a bright-orange background. Rosalee didn’t feel like talking about the promised promotion. She didn’t want to share anything with Renee. Truthfully, Rosalee didn’t want the woman there, or anywhere near the Love family. She shook her head. Ridiculous and selfish behavior had become her thing lately and she didn’t care for it one bit.
“They’ll try to keep our Rosie, though,” Lindsay insisted, tightening her grip on Rosalee’s hand. “They’d be foolish to let her go.”
“Well, I sure hope so, Miss Lindsay.”
“Well, me, too, of course, Missus Love,” Renee said brightly, sucking up in a way that made Rosalee’s teeth ache.
“Nonsense,” Lindsay favored Renee with a tight smile. “And don’t be calling me that. You’ll be one yourself soon enough.”
Renee tapped her manicured fingernail on the family table’s worn oak surface and widened her sugary-sweet smile at her future mother-in-law then threw ice-cold eyeball daggers across the table at Rosalee.
“I declare I don’t know how my sons got so very lucky,” Lindsay went on, sipping her tea.
Rosalee knew damn good and well Aiden’s entire family believed he had knocked Renee up and wanted to do the right thing by her. And they had no explanation for “that Melinda,” as she’d become known outside of Kieran’s hearing. Angelique made a snorting sound. Her mother frowned at her.