Accidental Love

by BL Miller

  "After everything I've done for you."

  Rose let a lone tear slip down her cheek. "Wait." She looked up at Ronnie. "Please?"

  "Rose," the dark-haired woman protested, "you don't have to do this."

  "Please, just a few minutes. I'll be all right." She winced inwardly at the hurt look on Ronnie's face but knew she needed to do this.

  It went completely against her better judgment but finally Ronnie nodded. "I'll be downstairs." She shot a murderous look at Delores before leaving the room.

  ****************

  "Hrmmpf," Delores grunted as she returned to her seat. "I don't know, Rose. These rich people, they think they can control everyone just because they have money."

  "Ronnie is not like that," the young woman protested.

  "She won't let you speak for yourself. You are a grown woman. What you do with your money is your business, not hers." She reached into her bag and pulled out her cigarette case. "You would think you were a child the way she treats you."

  "Delores, please don't." Rose pointed at the cigarette case.

  "Obviously she doesn't know how to treat guests either," the large woman grumbled, shoving the case back into her purse. "Well, I can't stay long. I have to pick up the Tupperware and hope I have enough gas to get home."

  "Delores, you understand I'm not working? I don't have any money."

  "Rose, you live here. You can't tell me if you needed something she wouldn't help you out." The large woman pointed out the obvious. "You're not going to starve…or run out of gas on some lonely stretch of highway on the way home…" Delores paused for effect. "I remember the time it was snowing and I had to take you to the doctor's for…what was it again?"

  "Strep throat," Rose replied sullenly, knowing full well the older woman remembered.

  "That's right. I had to get prescriptions for both you and Jimmy because he hadn't had it yet. I couldn't afford to go to bingo that week because of that, you know."

  "I know."

  "You know, the coverall is worth two hundred fifty dollars and I had just as much chance to win it as anyone else in that room."

  "I know," Rose repeated, sinking further and further into the role she knew so well.

  "You know how scared little Jessica will get if I don't come home?"

  Whatever strength and reserve Rose had crumbled with the last implied threat. Jessica was nine and very much attached to her mother. "How much do you need?"

  Delores relaxed against the couch, triumphant. "At least thirty dollars."

  "I don't have that much," the young woman lied.

  "Well how much do you have?"

  Rose thought quickly. "The most I can spare is fifteen dollars."

  "Well if that's all you can do then I guess that'll have to do."

  "I'll get my checkbook." Hanging her head in defeat, she turned her chair and wheeled her way into the office, returning a few minutes later with the check lying on her lap. Delores already had her coat on.

  "Thank you, Rose. I hope to hear from you on Christmas." Delores reached for the check only to have the young woman jerk it out of reach.

  "Wait…" she summoned her courage and took a deep breath. "I…I really can not afford to give you any more money after this."

  Delores' smile changed to an angry snarl. "Fine, I'll remember if I end up with no food or anything I shouldn't call you for help." She leaned forward and snatched the check out of Rose's hand. Now, having what she came for, Delores was ready to leave, but she would do her best to reinforce her hold over the young woman. Her voice became shrill, accusatory. "You just remember that while you are sitting here in all this…" she spread her arms out to encompass the room, "that I struggled and suffered to take care of you for so long." Delores opened the door, letting in the cold air. "I hope you get back on your feet soon, Rose. Perhaps someday you will stop being so selfish and realize just how much it took for me to keep a roof over your head." The door shut and soon Rose heard the sound of an engine straining to turn over. After a few false starts and a backfire accompanied by a cloud of black smoke from the rusted-out tailpipe, the station wagon backed out of the driveway and headed down the street.

  The door to the basement opened and Ronnie appeared, looking about for her unwelcome guest.

  "She's gone," Rose said in response to the raised eyebrow. Worried her benefactor would be upset about the check, she hid the checkbook beneath the cover of the afghan. "Ronnie, I'm sorry about…"

  "No, don't worry about it," the older woman replied, cutting off the apology. "You had no way of knowing she would show up here." She walked over to stand behind the wheelchair. "You hungry?" she asked. "Never mind, silly question."

  "What can I say? Maria's a great cook," Rose replied. Her beaming smile earned a quick hair tousle from her companion.

  "Okay, you head on in and find something on the tube while I see what goodies Maria left for us."

  Nothing more was said about Delores Bickering as the day progressed, both women far more interested in lying side by side on the bed and watching television together. It was only after night had fallen and both were settling down to sleep Rose broached the subject.

  "Ronnie?"

  "Mmm?"

  "Would you be mad at me if I told you I ended up giving Delores money?"

  "I don't think I could ever be mad at you," Ronnie admitted, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with her hand.

  "Disappointed?"

  "No," she sighed. "Rose, if I seemed short or aggravated or…"

  "Hostile?" the younger woman offered. Ronnie looked at the shadowed form in the dim moonlight and arched an eyebrow.

  "I don't think I was hostile, Rose. I think I did a great job of being civil to the witch, especially considering what I really wanted to do was throw her out into the snow bank."

  Rose reached out in the darkness and ran her knuckles up and down the forearm Ronnie was propped up on. "I know you did…and I appreciate it."

  "I don't like to see anyone use you, Rose," she whispered. "You deserve better than that." Ronnie hesitated for a moment before continuing. "So how much did she take?"

  "Fifteen bucks," was the reply. "But I told her this was the last time," Rose added quickly.

  "Have you ever told her that before?"

  "No."

  "Well then, that's a start, anyway." She reached over with her free hand and softly cupped Rose's cheek. "Hey, I understand, I really do. It's hard to say no after saying yes for so long. Look at me and my family."

  "So you're really not upset with me?"

  Ronnie leaned over and gave her young friend a hug. "I could never be upset with you," she whispered into Rose's ear. She did not expect to feel arms wrap around her neck and pull her close.

  "I don't know what I ever did to deserve a best friend as good as you," the young woman choked as her grip tightened. Ronnie returned the embrace, smiling at first with the feeling of holding Rose. Then memories came unbidden to her mind…a flash of blue flying over the hood and into the windshield, blood pooling on the ground, and a series of lies designed to cover up the truth. The smile faded, replaced with a look of sadness.

  "I am the one that doesn't deserve you," Ronnie whispered. She held on for a moment longer before rolling back to her side of the bed. "It's time for us to get some sleep."

  Despite her intentions when she closed her eyes, Ronnie's body betrayed her as it did every night. Just as Rose was drifting off she felt the warm weight of the older woman's arm flop across her stomach and warm breath caressing her shoulder. She smiled and allowed sleep to claim her. Deep in the land of dreams, they let the warmth of each other's bodies fight off the night chill the two and a half century old home couldn't keep at bay.

  ****************

  "Ronnie, got a sec?" Susan asked as she stepped into the office. "There's a claim here that doesn't make any sense."

  "Since when do you come to me about something like that?" She asked, not bothering to look up from the com
puter screen.

  "Since it involves lost materials and equipment totaling over a hundred thousand dollars."

  "What?" Ronnie turned from the computer and motioned for her sister to take a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk.

  "Orbison Contractors filed a claim for lost equipment and materials from that mini-mall remodeling site. They say that everything from lumber and tools to a brand new work truck were stolen." She handed Ronnie a copy of the multi-page claim form. "Since they had full protection with us, they also are filing for lost wages due to lack of equipment."

  "Are you sure this is legit? Maybe they're just trying to put one over for the insurance money." Ronnie flipped through the pages, frowning at each figure. "Did they file a report with the police?"

  "Sure did. They found the truck, stripped to the metal out in Arbor Hill."

  Ronnie read the report carefully, looking for any clue that it was a fraud. "Does Tommy know about this?"

  "No. I can't reach him. I've left messages everywhere for him."

  "He's probably still drugged up from all the Percocet he stole from my house during the Christmas party," the executive grumbled.

  "What?"

  "Nothing, never mind." Ronnie's teeth sank into the soft wood of her pencil while she continued to pore over the report. No sign of forced entry, not that much was needed to get past a simple chain link fence surrounding the work site. The truck was a total loss and there was no sign of inflated figures for the missing tools and materials. "I can't see anything out of the ordinary here, Sis. Other than the cost, what is it that’s bothering you?"

  "I ran a check against the reports we have on file and from what I can see, that project should have been finished or almost close to it. But according to the loss report, they had barely started. I gave Mike Orbison a call and he said they were at least six weeks away from completion."

  "If they were so far away from being finished…." Ronnie looked at the paper again. "Then why was so much stuff there? Look at this…all the large panes of glass, paint, sheet-rock, even carpeting. I thought those were the last things to be delivered."

  "That's what I thought. Maybe they expected to be finished before this."

  "No…Mike's been in business long enough to know exactly what he needs and when he needs it. I can't imagine him ordering stuff to be brought on site without it being used right away. He knows how easily things are stolen from construction sites." Ronnie's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense out of the puzzle. "And you're sure these things were on the site?"

  "I can't imagine him lying to us after all this time. His family has worked for us since the 60's and this is only the fifth time they have ever filed a claim."

  "I'm sure it's the first time it was in the six figures." Ronnie picked up the phone. "Laura, get hold of Mike Orbison for me." A minute later the buzzer and flashing light announced the task was accomplished. "Mike? Veronica Cartwright…fine and yourself? Good. Mike, I wanted to talk to you about this claim you filed with Cartwright Insurance. Sure, I understand that…yes, that seemed strange to me too, that is why I wanted to call you…no, there's no problem with that….yes…absolutely…uh huh…yes…no, I didn't know that….uh huh…when was this?"

  "What's going on?" Susan queried, drawing a frown from her sister.

  "Yes Mike, I'm still here, go on….uh huh….when did you talk to him last? I see…Mike, let me ask you something, other than your people, who else had keys to the building? What? Well when did this happen? Did you ask him about it? When? And that's the last time you talked to him?

  Okay Mike…no, I understand perfectly….of course…you too…yes, say hi to Sarah for me….okay Mike, good-bye." Ronnie hung up the phone and sighed.

  "So what did he say?"

  "He said everything was ordered weeks in advance but Tommy kept pushing the dates back, that is why everything was on site when the robbery happened. Did the police report say whether the truck was hot-wired or not?"

  "I don't think so. I didn't pay that much attention to it, why?"

  "Mike said that Tommy stopped by there last week and after he left a set of keys turned up missing."

  "Keys for what?"

  "The building, the truck, the equipment boxes, everything. Mike said they were on his desk when Tommy stopped by but he couldn't find them later that day."

  "Ronnie, you don't think…."

  "That is exactly what I think." The dark-haired woman rose and went to the window, the bright sun reflecting off the snow banks below. "Susan, I want you to contact all the other contractors and tell them to deal with me directly from now on, instead of Tommy. If he shows up anywhere, I want to know about it."

  "Why would he steal? It's not like he needs money."

  "He stole from me!" Ronnie growled angrily. "Why are you defending him? The truth is right in front of your face." The phone buzzer interrupted her tirade. "What?"

  "John Means from Means Auditing on line one," Laura replied.

  "Terrific." She slumped down in her chair and picked up the receiver. "This had better be good news," she said before pressing the button. "This is Veronica Cartwright."

  Ten minutes later a furious Veronica and a shocked Susan stared at each other.

  "Now do you believe me?"

  "I can't believe he would steal from his own family," the redhead replied quietly.

  "Well he did. A few more weeks and he would have crippled the Real Estate division, not to mention what it would have done to the company as a whole. We'll be lucky to post a profit this quarter."

  "What could he possibly need with that much money?"

  "What do you think, Susan? You're the one who mentioned drugs last week."

  "I know I said it but I didn't really believe it."

  "Well, you should have." Ronnie picked up the phone and buzzed her secretary. "Laura, I want you to call the security company and the locksmith. I want all the locks changed and Tommy's key codes blocked before the end of the day. Call downstairs and make sure no one lets him in. Then call all the heads in for a meeting. I don't care what time, just make sure everyone is there."

  "I just can't believe it," the younger sister repeated.

  "Believe it. Our baby brother is a thief and a liar and I'll be damned if he's going to get away with it."

  By the end of the day all the locks had been changed and the news broken to the rest of the family. Ronnie shut down every construction project until further notice and announced that Frank's brother John would run the Real Estate Division until a suitable replacement could be found. As an added precaution, she called the bank and reported Tommy's corporate credit card stolen only to find out that large cash advances had been taken on the card during the last two weeks and it had reached its limit. Yet another piece of information to add to Ronnie's already pounding headache of problems.

  **********************

  "What about a nice scarf?"

  "She'll hate it."

  "Hmm…what about a bottle of her favorite perfume?"

  "Ugh, I hate her perfume."

  "Well, what does she like?" Rose flipped through the glossy pages of the Macy's catalog.

  "They've got some pretty jewelry in here." They had spent the last two hours flipping through the various catalogs and flyers, to no avail. Everything suggested was dismissed just as quickly and Rose was running out of ideas to help her friend.

  "No. Mother's got more jewelry than she knows what to do with." Ronnie tossed the Bloomingdale's catalog on the desk, picked up another, and sighed. "I hate Christmas."

  "Oh, don't be a grump now, I promise to help you find something for her." Rose gave her friend a smile. "It can't be that hard to find a present for your mother."

  "Beatrice Phoebe Cartwright is without a doubt the hardest woman to buy a present for." Ronnie took a sip of wine and placed the long stemmed glass on the desk. "Maybe I should just send her on a cruise." Blue eyes twinkled with mischievous thought. "Maybe a nice, long cruise."

 
"Would she like that?"

  "I would," the executive replied with a devilish grin. "Maybe one of those around-the-world tours. You know, maybe six, eight…months."

  "Oh, you. Stop," Rose playfully chastised, reaching out to lightly swat Ronnie's forearm. "Your mother is not that bad, she's just a little…a little…." She put her finger to her lips, trying to figure out one or two words that could accurately describe her friend's mother. "Stuffy."

  "My mother is a snob, Hon." Ronnie said as she took another sip of the rosé wine. "She doesn't take no for an answer, she expects perfection all the time, and worries more about the family image than how we feel." Another sip, "Maybe I should just get her a gift certificate and let her pick out what she wants."