by Kara Parker
“Thank you Rose,” Melina says as they make the forty-five minute drive back to Eagle Valley. “I really enjoyed today.”
“So did I, Melina,” Rose replies. As they drive Melina becomes pensive again, her head resting against the seat back, staring out of the side glass. “What are you thinking?” Rose asks.
“How short life is. How you take people and things for granted. I think I took Tim for granted. I just assumed he would always be there, and now he is gone,” Melina says as she continues to stare at the passing scenery. “There is so much I wish I had said to him. I wish I had told him every time I saw him how much I loved him, how much he meant to me, but I didn’t. And now I will never be able to.”
“I’m sorry Melina.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry for. I think it happens to everyone. They think they have all the time in the world, and then before they know it, the time is up. Life is too short to take for granted like that, but you don’t realize it until it is too late.”
They ride in silence the rest of the way to Melina’s house, the words “life is too short” replaying over and over in Rose’s head.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rose is in her office later that afternoon signing checks when Joseph knocks softly at her door. She looks up and smiles. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite anarchist. Come in. What can I do for you today?”
Joseph smiles, refusing to rise to the bait. “It’s the end of the month. I’ve come to pay my phone bill.”
“Oh! Uhhh…” Rose stammers, unsure of what to do.
“Do you have the bill?” Joseph asks. “Tim would normally just tell me the amount, but I can look for myself.”
“I… uhhh…”
“Probably top filing cabinet drawer,” Joseph suggests.
Rose steps to the cabinet, opens the door, and quickly locates the phone bills in the neatly labeled folders. The first one is January, so the last one… she pulls it out and hands it to Joseph. He flips through it a moment, then hands it back.
“One-seventeen thirty-eight,” he says before peeling off one-hundred twenty dollars.
“You want change?” Rose teases.
He grins. “Apply it to the next bill. Oh, wait, there won’t be another one. Sorry. I think Paul down at the hardware store is going to host my phone for me. He’s a good guy.”
“And your P.O. Box?”
“That is paid through the end of the year. The box is in Tim’s name, not the restaurant’s. I’ll just keep that. I can take the key now if you like.”
Rose starts to reach into her drawer for the keys, then stops. “No, that’s alright. If Melina sells or hires some to manage the Goose you may have to come up with something else, but you’re right. It is no trouble at all to collect your mail, so I will keep doing that. Same for the phone.”
Joseph smiles. “Thank you Rose. It gives me an excuse to come see you.”
“Do you need an excuse?”
“No. But…”
“But what?”
“But… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Did I say you make me uncomfortable?”
“No,” he says before pausing. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“I can’t Joseph. Not tonight. I’m covering. But thank you for asking.”
“If you weren’t covering, would you?”
Rose thinks about it a moment then smiles. “Yes, I guess I would.”
Joseph all but beams. “That’s all I want to know,” he says before standing, taking his mail, and walking out.
***
“Have you eaten?”
Rose starts at Joseph’s voice as she locks the door later that night. She hadn’t noticed him sitting on the bench beside the door. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me, Joseph.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. So, have you eaten?” he asks again as he stands.
“Why?”
“I was wondering if you would join me for dinner.”
“Now? Where would we go? No place is open. Well, no place I would eat.”
“I have a place in mind. But you didn’t answer the question. I asked if you have you eaten.”
“No. Not yet. I have something to take with me,” she says, hoisting a take-out carton so he can see.
“Then have dinner with me. You said you wanted someone to cook for you. I have.”
“You haven’t!”
Joseph smiles. “I have. I can cook, Rose.”
Rose can feel herself smile. “What are we having?”
“Nothing fancy. Spaghetti. The sauce is made and it only takes a minute to cook the noodles. Please, Rose. It would mean a lot to me.”
Rose stands, torn between wanting to go with him and being afraid of what it means if she does. “It’s just dinner?”
“That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Then… I accept. Thank you, Joseph.”
Joseph’s face splits into a huge smile. “Thank you. Get on,” he says, stepping toward his bike.
“Joseph, no. Let’s take my car.”
“What’s the matter? It’s a beautiful night. You used to ride behind me all the time.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“So?”
“So… I have this meatloaf with me,” she says, trying frantically to think of a reason to not get on the bike with him.
“I have an idea,” he says as he saunters over. He takes the container from her, walks to the dumpster, and tosses it in.
“Hey!” Rose cries in annoyance.
“Would you have thrown it out anyway?” he asks as he walks back.
“Well, yes. But still!”
“So what’s the problem? Get on. Live a little,” he says as sits on the bike and thumbs it to life.
Rose stands her ground a moment. “I don’t have a helmet.”
Joseph grins, reaches down beside the bike and lifts a helmet off the hook for her.
Rose bursts into laughter. “Ok. Fine,” she says, taking the helmet and slipping it on. “You know, I’m surprised you wear a helmet with all that talk of freedom.”
“I wear a helmet because I want to, not because I’m required to.”
“Ah. An important difference,” she says as she mounts the bike behind him.
“Very,” he agrees, putting the bike into gear as she grips him around his waist. As the bike begins to roll he feels her tuck in tight, her breasts pressing into his back, and he smiles, a pleasant warmness spreading through him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rose leans in, snuggling in closer than strictly necessary. She has ridden a lot of miles behind Joseph and she quickly becomes comfortable on the bike again as they lean through the turns, the Harley thundering through the night.
“This is Tim and Melina’s old place!” Rose exclaims as Joseph turns off the road and juices the bike up the steep drive and into the garage.
“That’s right,” he says as he shuts the bike off, waiting while Rose dismounts before leaning the bike over onto its stand.
“You bought it from them?”
“Buying, yes. They are financing it for me.”
“What… the bank would give you a loan?” she teases, but at his look she remembers. “Oh, that’s right. No bank account, no credit history. Sorry. Nice truck,” she says, admiring the big white Ford parked in the other stall. “Paid cash for that, did you?”
“I did,” Joseph says as he opens the door and steps into the bright kitchen. “Can’t ride a bike all the time.”
“No, I suppose not,” she says, following him in, the smell of spaghetti sauce cooking making her mouth water as soon as she steps inside. “That smells wonderful.”
“Have a taste,” he offers, handing her a wooden spoon.
“This is very good!” Rose exclaims as she samples the sauce bubbling in the pot. “Your recipe?”
“Just one I found on the internet a while back.”
“You just had the sauce lying around?”
“No. I came home and made it when you said you couldn’t get away.”
“Did you really now?” Rose asks with a grin. “What if I hadn’t come with you?”
Joseph shrugs. “I like it and it freezes well. So it wouldn’t have gone to waste.”
Rose takes another taste from the spoon. “Can I get a copy of this? This is better than the sauce we use at the Goose.”
“Sure,” Joseph says as he fills a pot with water to cook the noodles, setting it on the stove and starting it heating. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says as he leaves Rose in the kitchen, returning in a few moments with a neatly printed recipe, turning on the stereo as he passes by.
Rose has to smile as the hard driving sounds of rock and roll pour from the stereo. The one thing they could never agree upon was music. She prefers the easy-to-understand lyrics of country while Joseph listens to hard pounding classic rock. “I see some things never change.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks as he hands her the recipe.
“Your choice in music.”
“You know what they say about a leopard and his spots.”
Before she can answer the song finishes and another, much slower and more melodic song with a country flavor begins. Rose freezes until she hears the first words of You’re my Better Half by Keith Urban. “Oh my God! That’s our song!” she gushes.
Joseph smiles to himself but says nothing, stepping past Rose to check on the water as Rose sways gently to the music.
“You did that on purpose,” she says softly as she moves.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“The hell you don’t,” she answers, but she is smiling, her eyes closed, still swaying to the music, her lips moving in silent accompaniment
Joseph watches her slowly dance around the kitchen, smiling in delight while at the same time feeling a profound sadness at what he has lost.
Rose can’t believe the flood of memories and feelings that song has brought back. Feelings she thought were long past. She shakes off the reverie as the song ends, Joseph taking her gently by the shoulders and holding her still. “That really brings back memories,” she says as she looks at him, her eyes bright.
“Good ones?” he asks. He thinks about trying to kiss her, but she makes no move to encourage him, so he waits.
“Very. What happened to us? I thought we were so right for each other.”
“We are.”
“Yet, we went our separate ways,” she says quietly, willing to accept her share of the blame for their parting. He had asked her to go with him and she was the one that refused.
“Yes. But we are together tonight.”
She steps back, pulling out of his gentle grasp, smiling sadly. “For dinner… yes.”
Joseph turns and drops the spaghetti into the boiling water before adding a dash of salt, trying to hide his disappointment. They stand in an awkward silence for a moment, the gulf of years between them again. “”I’m sorry Rose. I never intended to hurt you.”
She smiles. “I know. You did hurt me, but I’m past it now. Now I remember the good times.”
“We did have some good times, didn’t we?”
“The best.”
He turns back to the stove and cuts one of the noodles to see if they’re done. Satisfied, he quickly pulls the pan from the stove and drains the noodles as he begins to serve up the pasta, pouring a healthy helping of sauce over each pile before placing a piece of garlic bread on the side.
“Dinner’s up,” he says, waving a plate under her nose, trying to lighten the sudden heavy mood.
“It smells wonderful. What can I do to help?” she asks as he sets the two plates on the table.
He returns to the kitchen, pulling items from drawers. “Here,” he says, pushing napkins and utensils into her hand before turning to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of wine.
“Wine too?” she asks, returning to the kitchen, picking up the bottle so she can read the label while Joseph digs for a corkscrew. It is a mid-priced bottle of respectable quality and should pair well with the spaghetti.
“What’s Italian food without wine?”
“What indeed?”
Joseph pulls the cork and pours a splash into two wine glasses, setting the bottle on the table as Rose brings the glasses. Once settled into their chairs Joseph holds his glass up. “To Tim… and friends past and present.”
“To Tim,” Rose answers, touching her glass to Joseph’s.
“I’m sorry it is under these circumstances, but I am really glad to see you Rose,” he says after sipping his wine.
She can’t help but smile, but she pays attention to her plate, afraid to allow Joseph to see her face as the old flame begins to burn within her. He is the same old Joseph, but more mature. More at peace. More… desirable. She schools her face into a neutral expression before looking up to meet his eyes. “Same here,” she says softly.
He watches Rose eat, focusing on her lips, the lips he longs to taste once again. He has had other lovers since her, even now sleeping occasionally with Jennifer, one of the Nines, when one or the other of them are feeling the burden of being alone.
That relationship is purely physical, an arrangement that seems to work for both of them, but he has never forgotten how Rose made him feel... how she had made him soar as they made love, their time together comforting the soul and the flesh. She smiles at him, the same smile that once filled his heart as no other has since. She may never join him and the Nines, but he must try. Show her how to break free of the shackles that she isn’t even aware of are binding her.
“What are you thinking?” Rose asks as they sit, sipping the last of the wine. Joseph has fallen into another of his pensive silences, something he has done for as long as she has known him.
“I was thinking… how much I want you back.”
Rose feels a tingle of thrill pass through her. “You know that’s not possible.”
“Why, Rose? Why isn’t it possible?”
“Too much water under the bridge. You have your life and I have mine. We’re from two different worlds now.”
“We once said we could do anything, together.”
“Yes. But we were young then. Naive,” Rose says.
Joseph looks into Rose’s eyes, trying to read her. “I still believe it.”
Rose has to look away from his intense gaze, a gaze that makes her feel like he is looking into her very soul. “Joseph. We can’t…”
Joseph rises, and pulls her gently to her feet, and into his arms. “Tell me you don’t feel something. Look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me.”
Rose allows Joseph to pull her into his arms. His embrace is so gentle she can easily break his grasp. If she wanted to. But she doesn’t want to. “Joseph… I…”
“Look me into the eyes Rose,” he says, stepping back, letting his hands slide down to her hips, “and tell me you want me to leave you alone. I still want you, Rose. I want you with me. I have always wanted you with me. But if you tell me to leave, I will take you back to your car right now and you will never see me again. Tell me you don’t want me and I won’t bother you again.”
Rose looks deep into Joseph’s eyes. She can read the pain and desire contained there, the same pain and desire that she is sure is visible in her own eyes. She does want him. She does! But there is so much between them now. She steels herself. “Joseph… I want…” she begins, intending to tell him to take her back to her car, but she can’t finish it. She can’t say it. “I want… you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He can feel himself relax, pulling her to him once more. He had thought she was going to say it, that she was going to cast him aside. “And I want you,” he murmurs, placing a hand behind her head and steering it to his shoulder, holding her there as his eyes close, content at the moment to simply have her in his arms again.
Rose stands, allowing Joseph to hold her, the warmth of what she felt for him—for what she fee
ls for him still—spreading through her. She had thought she was past him, but as she stands in his arms, she realizes that everyone since him has been just a placeholder, a temporary distraction as she tried to fill the hole in her heart that could never be filled.
