Chapter Six
Best Friends
Carrying a clear plastic container of caramel Frappuccino, Rosalind gently grasped her sunglasses and perched them on the top of her head. As she rounded the corner, she saw that Allie’s front door was ajar and her brow creased. Approaching, her steps slowed and she drew back the cup of icy liquid, as though prepared to use it as a weapon if necessary. With her free hand warily outstretched, she pushed at the partly open door. “Allie?” she asked, while the hinges creaked and the door slowly swung wide.
She was met by a broad male back, dressed in a black leather jacket. He was running a hand over the nape of his neck and twisted at the sound of Rosalind’s voice. “Oh, hey,” he said in a husky southern accent.
“Umm,” she mumbled in response. “Hey,” she echoed bewilderedly.
“I’m just leaving,” he explained. “Allie’s…err…” he paused, glancing to his left. “Just coming,” he added, when he noticed movement coming from the bedroom.
Rosalind took a step forward. Pushing the door wider, she leaned her upper body into the apartment and tried to follow the focus of the man in front of her. There, she found Allie dressed in only a bathrobe. Her loose hair was mussed from sleep, except Rosalind guessed there hadn’t been much in the way of sleep. Allie’s face was set in a silly contended smile, but there were bags under her eyes.
“Allie, sweetheart,” the man crooned. “You’ve got a visitor,” he informed her, gesturing with an open palm towards Rosalind’s top half.
Allie glanced from the face of the man to Rosalind’s confused features. “Hi,” she greeted, her tone lifting in question.
Righting herself, Rosalind stepped into the room, pushing past the leather-jacketed stranger. “You forgot?” she demanded.
“Forgot what?” Allie responded.
Opening her mouth to speak, Rosalind sucked in a breath, before remembering that they weren’t alone in the room. Quickly pressing her lips together, she twisted to face the man. “Do you mind?” she asked rudely.
“Oh,” he replied, uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Allie chipped in, wandering towards her date from the night before and placing a placating hand on his chest. “Look, umm…” she murmured.
“It’s okay,” he quickly stated, sensing her disquiet at the tension unmistakably mounting between the two women. “I’ll get out of your hair,” he added, motioning towards the door. “You know,” he chuckled. “I had a great time last night.”
“Me too,” Allie smiled, following him closely as he reached the threshold.
Before leaving, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Allie’s lips. “It’d be nice to do this again sometime,” he suggested quietly.
“Maybe,” Allie stated, waving him off.
Rosalind didn’t take her eyes from the pair. As she watched the exchange, her mouth dropped in disbelief.
With a frustrated sigh, Allie closed the door and rapidly turned on her friend. “Did you learn those manners in finishing school?” she demanded. “You know, this is my home, Ros.”
“And you know, we had a date for lunch,” Rosalind snapped back. “I was waiting in the restaurant for over an hour,” she added. “Have you any idea how worried I was.”
“So worried you stopped at Starbucks on the way,” Allie pointed out, striding across the room and tossing the words over her shoulder as she breezed into the kitchen.
Glancing down at the cup in her hands, Rosalind huffed in response to the accusation. “What the hell is going on with you?” she insisted. “You don’t turn up to lunch; you don’t even remember we’re supposed to be having lunch. You’ve got strange men in your apartment, and when I called you at work yesterday, they told me you were off sick.”
Allie didn’t bother to lift her head at the long list of complaints Rosalind seemed set on airing. She was intently focused, instead, on fixing herself a cup of coffee. Huffing, she slammed cabinet doors, as she tried to find a fresh jar of the instant stuff. “I’ve been feeling a little off color,” she stated, choosing to only acknowledge the last of Rosalind’s points.
“Well, you clearly felt a lot better when you picked up Mr. Texas.”
“Kansas,” Allie matter-of-factly snapped.
“What?”
“Stephan is from Kansas,” she explained, closing another cabinet with a sharp bang.
“I don’t care where he’s from,” Rosalind erupted, marching into the kitchen. “Look,” she sighed, trying to keep a tenuous hold on her desire to grab her friend and shake some sense into her. “I just want to know that you’re all right. You’ve been acting so strangely these last few weeks.”
Giving up on her search for coffee and trying to remember the last time she actually went grocery shopping, Allie perched herself on a stool by her breakfast bar. Lifting her face to Rosalind, she shook her head. “I’ve been having fun these last few weeks, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“All right,” Rosalind conceded. “There is nothing wrong with having fun. But there’s more to it than that.” The tension seeming to suddenly pop, she slowly wandered to where Allie sat and took the stool next to her. Fortunately, on that day, she was wearing pants and had no problem settling herself on the seat. “We’re supposed to be friends, aren’t we?”
“Of course we’re friends,” Allie automatically responded.
“So why can’t you talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you?”
“Nothing is bothering me,” she countered, placing her hands on the counter in front of her and steepling her fingers. “I’ve been having the time of my life, Ros,” she added, smiling to herself.
Rosalind could tell that her best friend’s thoughts had taken her elsewhere and didn’t bother to attempt to bring her back for some moments. She took the opportunity to really look at Allie, to note the genuine look of happiness that radiated from her. However, she knew on a deeper level all was far from well with the woman beside her. It was a feeling in her gut, something she could never put into words, but a sensation that she simply couldn’t ignore.
“I’ve been looking at the world differently.” It was Allie who broke the silence, as she continued to thoughtfully gaze at her entwined hands.
“But why?” Rosalind asked, beginning to feel as though she were beating against a brick wall. “What’s happened?”
Allie considered how she would answer for several seconds, before lifting her gaze to Rosalind and fixing her with open, honest eyes. “I’ve been given a wake-up call,” she said softly.
“What the heck does that mean?” Rosalind scoffed back. “You going to die?”
Allie knew that the suggestion had been made in jest; a thought so outrageous that it didn’t occur to Rosalind that it could be true. She wanted to deny it, to laugh and reassure her friend. However, she couldn’t. Instead, an uncomfortable silence descended on the pair.
The smile quickly vanished from Rosalind’s face to be replaced by one of mortification. “Allie,” she whispered, that one word asking a thousand questions and expressing a hundred emotions.
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