The Secrets of Rosa Lee

by Jodi Thomas

  “Your grandmother Minnie could have used the middle name of Lee with her daughter because she was such good friends with Rosa Lee.”

  “But wouldn’t Minnie have mentioned it sometime? Wouldn’t she have said, ‘I named you Marbree Lee after an old friend’? To my knowledge, Minnie never mentioned Rosa Lee or the house or even Clifton Creek to me or my mother.”

  “Strange,” Sloan agreed.

  Sidney turned toward him needing to talk to someone about her theory. “It adds up to only a slight possibility, but I have the feeling that Rosa Lee Altman could have been my real grandmother. My birth grandmother.”

  “But what about the birth record of your mother being born in Chicago?”

  “I remember hearing Granny Minnie say that she delivered at home. My grandfather lived for several years but they had no more children. Knowing Minnie’s love for children, if she could have had more, she would have. Since she said she delivered my mother at home, there was no one to say that my mother wasn’t born in Chicago.”

  “What name was on the baptism record Micah found?”

  “That’s the strange part. None. I thought priests had to have a name before they baptized. Maybe he thought Rosa Lee would fill it in later.”

  Sloan shook his head. “I don’t know about the name, but the idea is too outrageous. You’re suggesting that your grandmother took Rosa Lee’s baby and raised it as her own.”

  “Think about it. If she’d kept the baby, she would have been an unwed mother. Back then people didn’t accept babies born out of wedlock. Fuller was dead. He couldn’t marry her and make it right. She’d have no chance of ever getting married with a bastard baby. Again and again folks have mentioned how Henry Altman was a fine and proper man. Having an unwed daughter with a child wouldn’t have been very proper back then.”

  Sloan shook his head. “I don’t know. I somehow would have guessed Rosa Lee stronger than that.”

  “Me, too. It was just a wild thought. But, maybe there was another reason she couldn’t keep the baby. Maybe she had to make a choice.”

  “But what?”

  Sidney tried to think of a reason Rosa Lee would give the baby up besides how people would look at an unwed mother.

  Sloan stood and walked to the door. Without stepping outside, he grabbed a sack he’d left on the porch. “I brought you something.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Sidney laced her fingers to keep from jumping to get the present. “We’ve only known one another a few days.”

  “Yeah, but we’re going to know one another for a long time and I wanted to start something.” He handed her the sack. “I got to tell you, Professor, I’ve had a few one-night stands in my life, but I don’t plan on you being one of them. We may not be teenagers, but we might as well get started on a few traditions that’ll last the years we have left.”

  She carefully pulled an aluminum-wrapped tamale out and looked up. “A tamale?”

  “Two dozen,” he corrected with pride. “You think that will be enough for the party?”

  “What party?”

  “The one we’re having in about ten minutes. It’s your birthday and you should have a party. I told everyone to be here by a quarter after nine.”

  Sidney looked up in shock. “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head.

  She jumped up and ran to the bedroom.

  “I kind of liked the pajamas. Don’t feel like you have to change. I told everyone it was come as you are.”

  “I’m going to kill you, Sloan McCormick, when this night is over,” she yelled from the bedroom. “I swear I’ll kill you.”

  “I kind of figured you liked surprise parties.”

  Before she could say more, the doorbell rang. By the time she’d dressed and combed her hair, everyone had arrived.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” she said after they all yelled happy birthday. “It’s too cold and late. The roads are bad.”

  No one appeared to be listening.

  Billy stood with his arm around Lora’s shoulder. He looked pale, but happy. “We all wanted to come,” he said.

  “We needed a reason to celebrate,” Micah added as he handed her a book tied in ribbon. “I didn’t have a chance to buy the right book, so I’m giving you my copy.”

  Sidney turned over what had to be a treasured book, a first edition of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

  “Thank you.”

  The Rogers sisters organized the party, telling everyone where to sit and passing out food. Their gifts were crocheted house shoes that looked as if they could double as long pot holders, and a lap quilt in Easter-egg bright yarn.

  Lora gave Sidney a book on gardening and several hand tools.

  Billy gave her a sketch of a bench that would fit beneath her window. “I drew it after you helped me with my schedule. I figured I’d make it for you when I had time.” He lifted his bandaged arm. “I had no idea I’d be taking a vacation so soon.”

  Everyone laughed, releasing a little of the worry they’d held for him over the past two days. While they sat around the coffee table eating chips dipped in the sisters’ special hot-sauce mixture they’d made last summer and devouring Sloan’s tamales he swore he bought from a roadside vender out by the interstate, Sidney related her theory of Rosa Lee having a baby.

  Everyone liked the idea, but didn’t quite buy into it. Her story seemed more a list of coincidences than facts pointing to ancestors. Sidney realized they all knew the vote was tomorrow, yet none mentioned the meeting. It was as if they didn’t want the committee to disband.

  She felt the same. Despite the trouble, they’d all hung together. She leaned back and watched the group. Sloan and Lora were arguing over the wine. She’d declared it the worst she’d ever tasted and he seemed to be trying to make the point that there was no such thing as good wine.

  The preacher and Billy were looking over his sketch for the window bench and the Rogers sisters were thumbing through the gardening book. Sidney smiled. Maybe there was no such thing as a perfect fortieth birthday, but this one came close.

  Sloan took her hand and she turned toward him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You are welcome.” He smiled. “An hour ago, after having one hell of a day, I made it back here and remembered this was your birthday. I wasn’t sure I could pull a party off.”

  “Bad day?” She didn’t want to outright ask, but he’d given her the opening.

  “Until now.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “You’ve got icing on your face.”

  “Where?” She touched her lips.

  “Right here.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  Sidney blushed, but before she could see if anyone watched them, Ada May screamed, “Oh, my goodness! Look at this.”

  Everyone turned to where she was pointing in the gardening book. Sidney could see what they were looking at and she was thankful it wasn’t her.

  Ada May held the book up. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

  “What?” Lora asked from too far away to see the book’s pictures.

  “Right here, under Portland Roses. There’s one that grows as an upright shrub. A red blend.” She held the book toward Sidney and added, “It’s called a Marbree.”

  Beth Ann pulled the book so she could see better. “That’s the one we saw growing all over Rosa Lee’s garden.”

  “Didn’t you say your mother’s name was Marbree Lee?” Lora asked as she looked from the book to Sidney.

  Sidney straightened, trying to remember to breathe. Sloan’s arm went round her shoulder as all the others stared at her.

  The wild thought had just become a possibility.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Micah told himself he wasn’t going to circle by Randi’s place when he left the professor’s party. After all, it was after ten on a weeknight. He had to work tomorrow and the bar would probably still be open tonight.

  The snow continued to fal
l. Within a few hours it would be hazardous as he headed out toward Cemetery Road. Even though Logan was asleep, Micah needed to get home. The committee had agreed to meet at three o’clock tomorrow to take the final vote and, as near as he could tell, not one member knew how to vote.

  Even if Sidney was Rosa Lee’s granddaughter, she had no claim to the house. The old place was still about to crumble in on itself. Three oil companies were making good offers. The town needed the money to stay alive.

  Micah tried to get his heater to work as he circled Randi’s bar. Even if Sidney’s mother’s name had been on the baptism document, he decided, it wouldn’t change anything.

  Bad luck had followed the committee this past week. Maybe if they voted, that would end.

  Micah found himself in the bar parking lot wondering when he’d turned off the main road. The lights to Randi’s place were on, but not a car sat in the lot. Apparently, everyone but him had sense enough to stay off the roads tonight.

  He parked at the front door and ran in before he changed his mind. He’d just say hello, ask how she was, check to make sure all was well.

  An old country song greeted him through the blink of twinkle lights. The chairs were turned over on the tables, all the pool cues were racked.

  She stood behind the bar, cleaning up for the night. “I was just about to close,” she said before he stepped into enough light for her to recognize him.

  Micah shook the snow from his hair and walked across the empty bar. He pulled off his coat and loosened his tie knowing he must look out of place. He wished he had something clever to say. Something about the night and the storm and why he stopped by.

  But, there was nothing he could say that would be the truth. He raised his hand. She stepped around the bar and took it, her eyes as full of need as he knew his heart was.

  They walked to the worn dance floor. He turned toward her and Randi melted against him. She laid her head on his shoulder, he held her with one arm around her waist and they danced, moving slowly across the floor, as smooth as leaves drifting in lazy water.

  He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her breath against his throat, loving the smell of her hair against his cheek, loving Randi. He didn’t know when it had happened, he didn’t care, but he knew he loved her.

  Neither said a word as the song changed from one to another on her favorite mix of tunes. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, molding so close against him he could feel her heart pounding.

  He spread his hand across the warm skin at her waist and let his fingers glide back and forth along her spine. Circling, like she’d taught him to do, he laughed at the way she followed as if she’d read his mind. He didn’t care if knowing her was right or wrong. It had become a part of him.

  They danced to one song after another, without any need to talk. He moved his hands along her body, learning every curve. There was no hesitance on his part, no shyness on hers. He’d never felt about a woman the way he felt about Randi, not even his wife. Amy had been his partner. But Randi, whether they ever married or not, was his mate. There was something primitive about it. In the beat of the music. In the beat of his heart. Something drew him to her and had from the first.

  Finally, when the songs had circled back to where he walked in, Randi pulled away. “Go home,” she said the words, but her eyes seemed to say so much more. “It’s late.”

  He nodded and turned to pick up the jacket he’d let fall over a table. He was afraid if he started talking he might never stop. He’d probably frighten her to death. He had a hole of need so deep he didn’t know if anyone but her would ever fill it. He pulled on his coat and took a step toward the door.

  Randi’s touch stopped him.

  When he turned, she moved closer, turning his collar up as her body leaned into him. “Be careful,” she whispered as her arms circled inside his coat. Her hug was so tight, he couldn’t breathe. He wrapped her against him and held on, wishing he never had to let her go.

  She pulled away and walked to the door.

  When he passed her, he leaned and kissed her lightly on the mouth as he had before. Her lips were warm and slightly open. Then, he stepped out into the cold. A moment later the door locked behind him.

  Micah drove home with Randi still close. He could feel the warmth of her against him. The scent of her lay thick in his lungs. The taste of her lips lingered on his mouth.

  He checked on Logan, then fell into bed after removing only his coat. Lying in the dark, Micah stared out at the night. The snow had begun to blow and circle. Dancing, he thought.

  Nothing made sense anymore. His life. His attraction to Randi. He knew all the rules, he taught them to couples about to marry. Look for someone with the same background, same religion, same values, same goals in life.

  People don’t pick a mate by how she smells or how she feels. There had to be more to it than that. Amy and he had been mirror images of one another. Both only-children raised by religious parents with strict values. Both educated the same, both loving the same things. How could he have not loved Amy from the first day he met her? It had been as natural, as reasonable, as breathing.

  He stared into the night. How could he love Randi now?

  Maybe he was starved to have a woman near?

  No, that made no sense. There were plenty of women around and he had no desire to hold any of them close the way he held Randi. Women at the church were always hugging him. It never crossed his mind to pull one close enough so that he could feel her heart. Surely he would have noticed if he’d developed the habit of smelling a woman’s hair.

  He tried to concentrate. Had he ever smelled a woman’s hair?

  No. Not one.

  So, that eliminated the possibility that he’d changed into some kind of sex-starved maniac.

  He didn’t want a woman. He wanted Randi.

  He wanted her in his life. He wanted to laugh with her and fight with her. He wanted to feel all the mess that comes from caring about another. He wanted to worry about her and have her worry about him. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up with her warmth beside him.

  The strangest thing about this relationship, if he could call it that, was that she seemed to feel the same way. What had Frankie said? She only dances alone. Yet, she’d danced with him.

  He didn’t have to ask if she felt the same about him. He knew it all the way to his marrow. Just as he knew she was lying awake across town right now wishing they’d danced one more dance.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  After everyone had left for the night, Sloan helped Sidney pick up from the party. “Have fun?” he asked like a kid who needed to be told that he’d done something right one more time.

  She yawned. “I wish I didn’t have to get up early in the morning, but I had a great time.”

  “I think everyone did.” He shoved aluminum-foil wrappers into the trash. “Only next year I’m buying three dozen tamales. Those Rogers sisters can put them away.”

  Sidney laughed. “They had to have something to cut the fire of their hot sauce. When I heard Beth Ann tell Billy she called it her ‘death-wish special,’ I thought she was kidding until I tasted it.”

  “It was a little warm,” he said as he bumped into her pulling the bag out of the trash can. “You ever think of getting a bigger place? I feel like I’ve been walking around in a dollhouse all night.”

  “I could just get a smaller friend,” she countered.

  He sat the bag down and gently pulled her to the couch. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “About trading you in for someone smaller? Maybe I could get two guys half your size. Or maybe if I left you out in the rain, you’d shrink.”

  “No.” He looked serious. “I want to talk about becoming more than friends.”

  He sat beside her without touching. “I’m tired of tiptoeing around and not asking personal questions. I try to act like you are just someone I’ve met in passing. But it’s not working.”

  “W
e’ve only known one another a week.” She knew she could argue the point but, in truth, she felt as if they’d known each other longer, too.

  “I know.” He took her hand. “I’m too old to be your boyfriend and it’s probably too soon to be lovers, but there needs to be someplace in between. Someplace where we can be comfortable.”

  He reached into his pocket. “I got you something. It’s not really a gift, so I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

  “Thank you.” She stared down at the box wrapped in what looked like a grocery sack.

  “I didn’t have any ribbon.” He frowned, looking very much like he wished he could take the gift back.

  Carefully she opened the box as if it were something special.

  Sloan rubbed his hands together and watched.

  Sidney pushed the lid off and pulled out a set of keys. She looked up, having no idea what to say.

  He tried to explain. “That red one is the key to the lock box on the back of my truck where I keep my tools. The blue one will get you in the back door of my place on Lake Travis. The silver one is my apartment in Houston. The biggest one is to my truck. That funny-looking one unlocks any door on my family’s old place outside of Tyler. No one lives there anymore, but I keep it locked.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Sloan leaned back looking as if he believed this might be the dumbest thing he’d ever done. “I wanted you to have them. You should know that I want you in my life. In all of my life.” He pulled out his keys. “There’s not a key on this ring that isn’t on that one. I want you to feel free to walk around.”

  “You’re saying no locked doors. Nothing I can’t ask.” She didn’t look as if she believed him.

  He breathed. She got the point. “That’s what I’m saying. There are things in my past that I may not volunteer unless you ask but, if you want the truth, you got the right to know.”

  Sidney frowned. “And what are you asking in return?”