Chasing Sunsets - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Chasing Sunsets Part 34 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"She said that when Rosa married Manny, she settled down. She was a good wife. A dedicated mother to her sons. She worked hard to build her business and to have a solid home for her family."
My heart frowned. This was the part of Rosa I didn't know. I'd been so hurt my senior year of high school; I'd drawn inward. I'd gone to college to escape my feelings and had met Charlie. Then I made him my world. Him and the boys. I'd not made time for old friendships, especially those here in Cedar Key. "But?"
"I won't repeat everything Eliana told me, only to say that, one time, Rosa went in search of her father." She shook her head. "He was not a very nice man, I don't think."
"Dad has told me a story or two. And, no, he wasn't."
A look I cannot describe swept across Patsy's face. Sadness. Empathy, perhaps. "All I know is, she found him. Eliana said after that, Rosa was never really the same. She allowed her heart to turn to stone, Kimberly. And that is never a good thing."
I sighed. "I know. Sometimes I think . . . maybe I've done the same thing." I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug, leaned back in my chair, and crossed my legs. "It's easier than allowing the pain to take over."
Patsy shook her head. "It's only easier for a short while. Eventually, if love doesn't pierce through, the heart will die." She pointed to her heart again. "I know."
I took a sip of coffee. "So what do I do, Patsy?"
"See Rosa as G.o.d sees her. Reaching the goodness inside her may not come today, but it will come." She patted the Bible again. "Mark the words of an old woman and this book. It will come."
I arrived at Rosa's business a little before 11:00. Her secretary told me she wasn't there, that she was at a new house they were placing on the market.
I crossed my arms and tried to look sure of myself. "Where?"
"I don't think she'd like it very much if you just show up there."
"Oh," I said. I walked over to the sofa across the room, sat, and said, "Then I'll wait." I reached into my purse and pulled out the book of Dad's I'd started reading on Sat.u.r.day. I'd brought it along just in case.
"It could be a while." The tone of Rosa's secretary-Lannie, according to her nameplate-told me she could be as stubborn as I. But if I were going to adopt a bad att.i.tude this early in the game, I'd be on the wrong path for sure by the time Rosa returned.
I smiled. "That's fine," I said. "I'll just read while I wait."
Which is exactly what I did for several minutes. Lannie continued to work-doing whatever it is she does-until I heard her sigh. I looked up. She extended a piece of paper to me. "Here. This is the address where she's at. She's there to get the particulars and to take some photos for uploading into the website later on."
I closed the book, crossed the room, and took the offered paper. "Thank you," I said.
I recognized the general location of the house. And with the island being so small, it didn't take me long to drive there. Rosa's BMW was parked out front; she was walking on the short walkway from the front door to the street, a camera in her hand. I stopped and exited my car quickly. "Rosa," I called out.
It was then she noticed me. She stopped, planted bright yellow high-heeled sandals-a nice complement to her festive halter dress-firmly together. "Oh. It's you."
"I'd like to talk to you, if I may." I slipped the strap of my purse over my left shoulder and then tucked my hands into the pockets of my Bermuda shorts. I knew enough about body language to know not to cross my arms as though ready for battle.
"Are you here to buy a house?"
I looked at the white Cracker house. The tin roof reflected the sun's light; hanging baskets and birdhouses swung in the breeze from their chains along the wraparound porch. "It's a cute little thing."
"It's two hundred grand," she said, matter of fact. "How's that for 'cute'?"
I stopped short. "Wow," I said. "I guess business is good." I wondered how much Steven's new house was going to cost him. It was two and a half times the size of this small-framed house.
She half-turned toward the house. "Do you want to go inside? I just turned the air off and it's too hot out here to carry on a decent conversation. Not that I think you want to talk out in the open anyway."
I shook my head. "No, I don't. And, yes, I'd like to go inside."
Unlike the house Steven and I looked at the evening before, this was still furnished, a fact I made note of.
"It's for rent, fully furnished, or for sale, with or without," Rosa said. She dropped the camera and her briefcase on a small table just inside the front door while I sat in one of the worn armchairs across the room. "I take it we're sitting," she said before planting herself on the sofa.
"Rosa," I began, keeping my voice low and calm. My eyes met hers; they reminded me of shimmering black coal. "Why did you lie to me?"
She smirked. "So he told you it was all a lie, huh?"
"No." I tilted my chin. "He told me about the two of you back when we were in high school." I didn't reveal that he'd flatly denied having come on to her. There was no need. My desire wasn't to spur another round of fabrications and fantasies. Having spoken to Patsy and wanting to take her advice, it was simply to reach out to my old friend. To offer an olive branch and hope it was accepted.
Rosa crossed her legs. "Did he tell you how we used to make love on Atsena Otie where no one could see us?"
I took a deep breath through my nostrils, then released it the same way. "He told me."
She blinked several times, defused. "Oh," she said.
I decided to cross my legs too. My brown BareTraps shoe slipped nearly off my foot, and I wiggled it to get the shoe back on. "Rosa, I'm not here to swap stories or to talk details. I just want to know why you thought it necessary to destroy the relationship I have again with Steven." When she didn't answer, I said, "I mean, aren't you happy, Rosa? Happy with your husband? Your children? Your life?"
Her jaw flexed; perhaps I'd gone too far. "I'm very happy."
I uncrossed my legs, placed my feet side by side on the floor, and rested my elbows on my knees. "I know. But, Rosa . . . don't I deserve to be happy too?"
She threw her head back and crossed her arms. "You? You've had everything your whole life. If you couldn't find happiness, then you had a problem, not me."
"Rosa, you know nothing about me."
"I know about you." She turned her head to the right, seemed to study the table with her belongings. I wondered if she were about to bolt.
"What? Tell me what you know."
She faced me again. The shimmer in her eyes was gone, replaced by fire. "You had the best family. A home here to vacation, a home in Orlando-a fine home-unlike anything I'd ever have unless I worked myself to death to get it."
For a moment I wondered where she now lived. There were no homes quite like the one I'd grown up in-not in the same design, at least-here on the island. But there were plenty of fine homes, sprawling and with views unlike anything one could fine elsewhere in the world. "I grew up in a good home," I admitted. "But there were things . . . that made it not so perfect. Not as perfect as it seemed."
Rosa blinked. "I know, remember? Your mom's drinking."
I sat straight. "Oh, that's right."
"After your mother died, my mother told me. And then, when my mother was dying, she told me a lot more. Her fever was very high and she said things I supposed she wouldn't have otherwise said."
Whirring pa.s.sed in and out of my ears. "Like?"
Rosa shook her head. "Nothing I want to talk about now."
My heart beat faster than it should. I had to gain control of the situation again, I told myself. I took several deep breaths, exhaling them slowly. "Then you know my life wasn't . . . but what you don't know is how I was affected by Steven, initially. Charlie, eventually."
Her face softened. "I don't know anything, really, about Charlie."
I looked at the floor. "Neither do I."
"But he gave you two good sons?"
I looked up. She'd lost the anger somehow. She was Rosa, my childhood friend. My old confidante.
Before life got in the way.
"He did do that much." I shook my head. "I'm just not 100 percent sure as to why he left us. Everything we'd built together."
"I guess I'm blessed," she said. "Manny thinks I hung the moon."
I felt my eyes burn with threatening tears. "That's all I ever wanted, you know. And I thought I had it . . . in Charlie, at least. Now . . ." I shook my head ever so slowly. "Now . . ."
"What?"
I shook my head, unsure as to whether or not to be real with Rosa, to be honest even with myself. But, in spite of my trepidations, I finished my thoughts with her. "I'm left with the feeling that I never really measured up as a woman to any man." I swept the tears from my cheeks with the fingertips of both hands.
"Until now," she said. "With Steven."
I nodded.
She remained quiet. Outside the wind whipped around the house. I glanced past the front door windowpanes; it was going to rain again soon, as it had the night before. It was that time of year. The usual din of birds calling to one another had ceased; they were seeking shelter already.
"Kimberly." Rosa broke the near silence. "I never slept with Steven Granger."
"I know."
"Not that I didn't make things very difficult for him back then."
"I know that too."
The wind grew stronger.
"We'll be stuck here if we don't leave now," she said, standing. She turned to look out the same windows as I had a moment before and crossed her arms.
I smiled at her back. "Would that be so horrible?"
She looked over her shoulder and grinned. "I wonder what we could get into here?"
I stood. "We could pretend we were in college and this was our own house that my father rented for us to live in . . ."
Her smile faded. "I remember . . . that was one of our plans, wasn't it?"
I'd forgotten, but . . . "Yes, it was. One of many."
She turned to face me. "Do you remember those things we used to play with as kids? You'd draw on them and then shake them and everything would disappear?"
"An Etch A Sketch?"
"Yes. An Etch A Sketch." She picked up her briefcase and camera. "Sometimes I wish life were like one of those." Her fingers gripped the body of the Canon, one I recognized as being top of the line.
I reached for my purse. "Just shake and start over."
When I looked up, her hand was extended toward me. "Shake and start over?" she asked. Her usually steady voice quivered.
I took her hand. It was warm and soft. "Shake and start over."
It wouldn't necessarily be easy, I thought as we ran toward our cars in the sprinkle of large raindrops. But it was, at least, doable.
33.
I couldn't wait to tell Steven about my time with Rosa. On the way home, driving through the downpour, I wondered if he'd been out on the boat when the storm hit or if he'd been cautious and not gone out.
I also couldn't wait to tell Patsy.
But when I arrived home, I had a very wet dog to contend with. Even from the road, I could see Max's golden fur, slick and plastered to his body. I didn't know whether to laugh or grieve.
I pulled my umbrella from the side pocket of my car door, opened it as I stepped outside, and called out, "Oh, Maxie!"
Max ran in circles under the overhang at the door.
I slipped inside the door, forcing Max to stay outside for a little while longer. "Let me get some towels," I said to him.
He barked in reply.
I pulled old towels from the back of the linen closet just as my cell phone rang. I ignored it long enough to get Max dried off and then to let him come inside, smelling just rotten. "You, sir, get a bath today."
He looked at me as if to say, "I just had a shower." Either that or, "Feed me, woman."
I poured a large bowl of food for him, freshened the water in his bowl, and went in search of my purse to retrieve my phone. I found it in one of the living room chairs.
I missed a call from Charlie.
My heart fell. Why would Charlie call me when the boys were with him, unless there'd been an accident? I pressed my thumb pad against the send b.u.t.ton. Charlie answered with his usual, "Hey, Kim."
"What's wrong?"
He sighed. "Is that the way you're going to begin every conversation we have from now until the boys are grown?"
I wasn't in the mood to quibble. "Why would you be calling me, Charlie, if something wasn't wrong?"
A light chuckle, followed by, "I got a phone call from your dad. He said that he and Anise are going to Atlanta this weekend for Ami's opening night and wanted to know if they could take the boys. It's fine with me, but I wanted to clear it with you."