“You’re too skinny, it makes you look sick and I don’t want you to be sick.”
Rosemary was floored—Cleo thought she looked too skinny too? “Did Harrison put you up to saying that?”
Her brow wrinkled. “No. But you don’t eat very much. You tell me to eat healthy, but you don’t.”
Rosemary hadn’t realized she was so obvious that Cleo noticed it. Had she taken the diet too far? Harrison had commented that she was too thin. She’d thought he was just being difficult—he was the one who had said she was too fat during the cruise where they first met. But a couple of her sisters had made comments about her thinness too. She would think about it. “Maybe I worry about my weight too much. Have you seen pictures of me when I was in high school?” She sliced some more cheese for her sandwich, trying to get some perspective on the situation.
“No. You never showed them to me.”
That was probably true. Rosemary wasn’t sure she had any with her, either. “When we finish talking this afternoon, we can dig through some of my things and see if I’ve got one hiding out somewhere. I was... not skinny back then. Not at all.” She’d been on the chunky side even before she became pregnant. When she’d met Harrison it had only been a month or so since the birth and she was heavier than ever.
“No you weren’t.”
“No, really. I was a chunky monkey.” Rosemary tried to lighten the mood by laughing off her body size, which had been so painful for her.
This made Cleo giggle a little. “You’re making that up.”
Rosemary pulled out her cell phone and dialed the spa. When someone answered, Rosemary asked if Sage was available. A moment later, she put it on speaker phone. She buttered two more slices of bread while she asked, “Hey, Sage. You remember when you met me on the cruise?” She was pretty sure Sage would.
“Of course. You and Harrison sparked off of each other immediately.”
“That’s a nice way of saying I offended you both within seconds of meeting,” Rosemary said, still feeling a little guilty about it, even after all of these years.
“Oh, there were the other kind of sparks too.”
Rosemary decided to redirect the topic. “Don’t try to be nice, but Cleo here doesn’t believe it when I told her that I was a chunky monkey back then.”
That elicited more giggles from Cleo. “No way!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Sage said carefully.
“Oh yeah? How would you put it?” Rosemary knew Sage would be honest but kind at the same time.
“Hmmmm. I guess I would say that your curves weren’t packed on in quite the same way they are now. Or like they were in May, when you had curves.”
Rosemary ignored the last comment and laughed. “In other words, I was round all over.” She pointed the spatula at Cleo. “I told you so.”
“You were beautiful even if you weren’t so thin then—and Harrison could barely take his eyes off of you, regardless of your shape.”
The thought made Rosemary’s stomach quiver a little. He’d said as much, but she hadn’t believed him. “Really?” she asked it in a dry tone.
“Oh, yeah. He pointed you out to me before we met—you drew him to you even then.”
Could it be true?
“Rosemary and Harrison sitting in a tree,” Cleo started to chant, loudly.
Sage joined in for “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“All right you two, that’s enough. Sage, don’t you have a treatment or something?” Rosemary wasn’t really annoyed—she was embarrassed, and that was a hundred times worse.
“I do. See you tonight. Cook plenty; I’m sure there will be another powwow.” She said goodbye and hung up.
“So see,” Rosemary changed the subject away from her and Harrison kissing in the tree and then marrying—she was so not ready for that kind of commitment. “I really was overweight back then.”
“You were not. Sage didn’t say that.”
“That’s because she’s really sweet and doesn’t ever want to hurt people’s feelings. You should really try to emulate her when it comes to that. It’s part of why everyone loves her so much.” She flipped the sandwiches and wondered why she’d followed the impulse to call Sage—better yet, why she’d had the impulse to call Sage.
“You aren’t mean to people,” Cleo said. “Not unless they deserve it.”
Rosemary beamed at her. “That’s right, so when I ground you for a week, you’ll know you deserve it, right?”
Cleo’s eyes widened. “A week?”
She considered that. “Well, not this time, maybe. But sometime before you go off to college I’m sure it’ll be a week—you’re my daughter after all.”
“So you were naughty?” Cleo asked, intrigued.
Rosemary hedged, not wanting to encourage bad behavior. “Not without a good reason.” Of course, her good reasons sometimes ran along the line of ‘because I want to’ or ‘because Wanda doesn’t want me to.’ No need to tell Cleo that though.
Cleo grew quiet. “I had a good reason today.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And after we’ve talked about it, you and I can decide what kind of punishment we think you deserve for scaring us all half to death.”
Cleo stirred the dregs of her cocoa. “Were you really worried about me?”
“Of course, bug. Always.” Rosemary poured the soup into their bowls. “I worried about you when you were still with your parents too, you know? Cecelia used to send me weekly updates with what you were up to and funny things you said and did.” Especially when she was in Europe studying under culinary masters and couldn’t make it home much.
“Really?” Cleo tipped her head and narrowed her eyes. “Then why did you want to send me away?”
Goggling, Rosemary nearly dropped one of the sandwiches on the floor. “I didn’t want to send you away. What makes you think that?” She managed to transfer both sandwiches to plates.
“I heard you guys talking after you put me in bed last night. I wasn’t sleeping.” She looked a little sheepish. “I knew you wouldn’t let me stay and listen.”
Rosemary tried to remember the conversation. “You heard Harrison suggest we go to his mom’s for a while where it’s safe.”
“And you said you were going to send me alone. Because I’m so much trouble that you don’t want me around.” Hurt filled Cleo’s eyes.
Rosemary completely forgot the food as she circled the island and pulled her daughter into a hug. “I want you to be where it’s safe—that’s the most important thing to me, but I couldn’t send you to a stranger’s all by yourself—even if you would probably love Darla even more than you love me. Everyone does. She’s special. And she loves everyone; she never seems to get mad and, well, she’s just really terrific. Except she doesn’t eat any kind of meat—not even eggs or cheese. Weird, right?”
Cleo wrinkled her nose. “Who doesn’t eat cheese? That’s just wrong.”
“Agreed.” Rosemary pushed the food in front of Cleo and started her own meal. She had scraped most of the cheese off her enchiladas when she made them the previous day, but she loved the stuff and savored the buttery sandwich and soothing soup. She’d work out longer tonight. Then she remembered what Cleo had said about her weight. She’d have to think about it.
“Why did you think I would send you away?” Rosemary asked when they were both seated.
“You did before.”
Her heart broke all over again. “I’ve never done anything so hard as the day I signed the papers for you to live with Cecelia. It was the right thing for all of us then, but it wouldn’t be the right thing now.” She touched Cleo’s arm when she didn’t look over and waited until their gazes met. “There’s nothing on this planet that would make me give you up again. I love you, Cleo, and whether you decide to tell anyone else or not, you’re my daughter. Your Uncle Mike can’t have you and no one else is going to take you from me, either.”
“What if you change your mind?” Tears started to leak down Cleo’s face.
> “I won’t. No matter what happens, no matter what crazy things you do, I will never, ever stop loving you or ever not want you to be around, okay?”
Cleo studied her, uncertainty on her face for a long moment. “Promise?”
“Promise.” It seemed like a reasonable segue, so Rosemary took it. “Why did you run off today?”
“I didn’t want to go to Harrison’s mom’s house,” Cleo muttered. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because this is all my fault.”
“What’s your fault?” Rosemary was totally lost.
“Everything was fine before I came here. Then you started to get hurt and stuff, and that didn’t happen before I came here, so it must be my fault. Mom and Dad probably died because of me too. Mike said I was a brat—that day before the car accident. He said they never should have adopted me.”
Fury roared through Rosemary. No one had a right to speak to a child like that—not any child, never mind hers. “No way. Your parents died because someone wanted to kill a senator...” she trailed off, suddenly realizing maybe she was wrong about that. As far as she knew, they hadn’t heard back on the car, whether it was an accident or sabotage, but if it was sabotage, could the bombing have been about the Markhams, and the senator had been collateral damage? She mentally shook her head. No way was Mike psycho enough to kill a restaurant full of people just to get two out of the way. Was he?
“See, you know it’s my fault.” Cleo set down her barely touched sandwich, as if not hungry anymore.
“No, it’s not.” Rosemary pulled herself together though her mind still raced. “Look. We don’t know for sure why this is happening, but we think it might be about money. Your mom and dad had a bunch of investments that had paid off and we think someone wanted the money and maybe that’s why they died. That’s not because of you.”
Cleo’s eyebrows lowered, making her forehead furrow. “But how would they get the money if Mom and Dad were dead?”
Rosemary considered how to tell Cleo that Mike might be behind everything, but how did you say something like that? “There are ways, but only if your parents weren’t around anymore.” She wanted to warn Cleo that Mike might try to hurt her, but she didn’t want to admit her suspicions if there was even a tiny chance she was wrong. “I don’t want you to freak out, but I don’t want you to trust anyone but my family—not even your Uncle Mike. Not until we clear this up.”
“Not even Harrison?”
Rosemary realized she had been counting him in as part of the family. When did that happen? “Harrison is fine. And Vince and Joel and Blake, but don’t trust anyone else right now unless I specifically tell you it’s okay, all right?”
Cleo’s face was pinched and her eye wider than usual. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” Rosemary pulled her close. “This is really hard, but we’re going to catch whoever did this so it won’t last forever.”
“Okay.” She didn’t seem convinced.
“I’m not sending you away and you’re not responsible for what’s happening. Is there anything else that’s bothering you?” Rosemary asked when a moment had passed.
“I hate math.”
Laughter and relief bubbled inside Rosemary and she couldn’t help but let it out. “I can’t fix that, sorry.”
“Am I in big trouble?” Cleo’s voice was worried.
“Nope. But next time you decide to skip school—even if you have a great excuse—you will be, okay? And you’re going to have a whole lot of homework to catch up on after skipping today.” Catching up would give Rosemary a reason to keep Cleo close until they caught Mike.
“Deal.” They shook on it.
“Now, eat your lunch before it goes totally cold.”
Cleo sipped at her soup and pulled a face. “Too late.”
Rosemary stood and grabbed their bowls. “Microwave, here we come.”
Cleo’s smile was tentative, but showed her relief.
Rosemary decided to consider it a successful chat. Now if they could put all of her daughter’s and her own fears to rest.
Cleo’s words that she was so skinny she looked sick popped into her head again. She tried to remember how hard she’d worked to lose the baby fat, but in that moment, she just thought of the way so many of her clothes hung too loose on her now. Had she been starving herself and didn’t realize it? Had she let Harrison’s words—words that were nearly a decade in the past—influence her when she ran into him again last summer? She had the feeling that they were right. Maybe it was time to take stock of things again.
“How are you holding up?” Sage asked from Harrison’s office doorway shortly after he returned to work.
He smiled and gestured for her to come in. “I’m doing okay. I think worrying about her shaved a few years off my lifespan, though.”
Sage closed the door behind her and took a seat across his desk. “It was pretty scary. I wondered if you’d stay there for the rest of the day.”
He noticed the careful way she phrased it, as if not wanting to make it sound like he was slacking on the job because he hadn’t stayed at the house. “I thought about it—seriously almost turned around and went back half a dozen times before I reached the hotel—but it wouldn’t have been the right move.”
“Why not?” Sage studied him. “You can’t seriously think you don’t belong there, not after everything that’s happened.”
He played with the pen he’d been writing with, turning it end over end. “I don’t know what to think. Last night...” How could he put the way he’d felt holding Rosemary in his arms into words? Or the disconnected way she’d made him feel when she didn’t call him for help? “It’s two steps forward and one step back with her. And all of them baby steps. Besides, I was able to see that they were fine, settled at home and safe. I think Rosemary needs to have some quiet time with Cleo without anyone else there as a distraction. If Cleo’s running away or skipping school, she needs someone to focus wholly on her. I told them that I was just a phone call away.”
“Good.” She tipped her head, studying him. “Have you told Rosemary you’re in love with her?”
He remembered how she’d acted the first time and an ache entered his chest. “Yeah. It kind of wigged her out,” he said, appreciating that Sage smiled in response. He put on a good front. “I think I like keeping her a little off balance. She’s such a control freak sometimes.”
“That she is. And a little off-balancing can be good, but don’t overdo it, especially with the rest of her world being such a mess.” She paused for a moment, studying him. “You two are good together, you know? I see good things for you. Don’t forget your own gift. You had that impression for a reason. You don’t need to feel disconnected anymore.”
“Duly noted.” He tried to make light of it, but felt chills slide down his back that she could read him so well. Holding on wasn’t proving simple, but he couldn’t let go yet. He just hoped the baby steps they were taking led to the place he wanted end up.
“I don’t know if I can take this much family togetherness,” Delphi said as she dished up a bowl of Rosemary’s fragrant stew that night. “Cami’s birthday in a few nights makes three this week with everyone gathering ‘round the table. My parents weren’t really into family togetherness unless we were putting on a nice face for society. And there are way too many of us now.”
“We’re going to have to start charging admission to cover the cost of dinner so they don’t bankrupt me,” Rosemary agreed.
“Bankruptcy is so likely, considering your great number of designer clothes and shoes and your itty-bitty income,” Delphi said with a voice so devoid of sarcasm a stranger never would have realized it was implied.
“Shut it.” Most of her sisters had nagged Rosemary to buy a few new outfits—some fancy party dresses and new designer boots. But she spent most of her life in a chef’s jacket and didn’t see the point to updating her wardrobe with expensive items just fo
r the sake of owning them—though her tennis shoes were the highest quality she could find when it came to comfort. It’s not like she ever wore a dress other than weddings anyway. Well, there was that date she had with Harrison, but that was an aberration. “My top-of-the-line cooking and baking equipment is more expensive than some of those four-inch heels you all think are necessary anyway. Footwear should be comfortable first. Fashion is a distant second.” Of course, the melding of the two was important, but her idea of fashion and theirs didn’t often coincide.
“Rosemary, we still have so much to teach you.” Cami patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, when this mess is over, I’ll drag you to Denver for the day to show you what Nordstrom is really all about.”
“Yippee. I can’t wait.”
Cami just smiled.
“Any word from Deputy Oliver?” Rosemary asked Joel when he walked past with two large chunks of fresh bread on his plate.
“A few things. I’ll fill everyone in when we’re all sitting. Did you mention our suspicions to Cleo about the perpetrator?”
She shook her head. “I talked to her about the money issue and not to trust anyone outside this room, but that was it. She thought it was her fault that everything was happening.” Though Cleo was across the room, they were both careful not to mention Mike aloud.
His lips pressed together in a tight line. “I’ll take that into account when I give the report.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as everyone had their food and were seated in the great room, Joel started the topic that had drawn them all there. “I heard back from Detective Carlson today. He said the police department back east confirmed that there was tampering with the Markham’s car.”
“Someone wanted to hurt my parents?” Cleo’s voice quavered and she huddled closer to Rosemary.
“It looks like it. And no, that’s not your fault,” he said as her face started to crumple.
“Have any groups taken responsibility for bombing the cafe?” Rosemary asked carefully.
His face tightened. “No. Which supports your theory about the senator being a casualty. I called a buddy who works Homeland Security now and he thinks we might be right.”
Family Matters (DiCarlo Brides book 4) (The DiCarlo Brides) Page 21