by Liz McMullen
“Indeed, I do,” Rosalie replied, but didn’t offer a handshake greeting. Her posture grew even more upright as if trying to mimic the appearance of a ballerina holding a painful position to please her favorite, yet feared instructor.
Apparently Rowan reached her limit of patience, and she gently took Desiree’s hand as she guided her to the counter so they could place their order. Rowan didn’t even bother saying a word to Rosalie, ignoring her completely. The dismissal by someone Rosalie thought was beneath her must have driven her mad.
Desiree decided to put her blinders on for the rest of their short time in the Haymarket. Coffee in hand, they made their way to Paradise Pond, and Desiree was happy to see her favorite bench was free. The trees around the pond had lost most of their colorful autumn leaves, yet the grass on the hill remained lush.
“You know, if I was a kid growing up around here”—Rowan’s soft tone honored the quiet serenity—“I would have figured out a way to that little island and made a fort. Nicola would have decorated it.”
Rowan had a faraway look in her eyes as she said Nicola’s name, yet her wistfulness soon changed to something dark. There was a deep pain associated with Nicola, and even though Desiree was curious, she didn’t push. Instead, she rested her hand on Rowan’s thigh and took her time finishing the strong brew from the Haymarket. At first sip, she realized she needed more sweetener but was unwilling to make the trek back to the café to grab some sugar packets. Now, she drank to stay warm and remain occupied while Rowan worked through the feelings that had no doubt ensnared her.
As Desiree switched the empty cup to her left hand, she snuggled close to Rowan. Once again, she encountered the comforting scent of apples and cinnamon. When Rowan wrapped her arm around her, welcoming her further into the curve of her body, she was relieved. Rowan may have been built, but she had a softness to her as well. Desiree sighed, enjoying the closeness. This was intimacy and trust. Even though they sat in silence, Desiree sensed Rowan was trusting her with something precious and she would do whatever she could to deserve this gift.
“Thank you,” Rowan murmured, then rested her cheek against the top of Desiree’s head.
Chapter Thirty
They walked back to Desiree’s car in comfortable silence. For the first time in her life, the thought of bumping into her mother didn’t bother her. Confronting her with kindness flipped a switch of sorts, and she was once again grateful for Rowan’s advice.
Rosalie was not darkening the door when they reached Desiree’s car, for which she was grateful. She wanted to treasure these last moments with Rowan before returning to school and her studies. “Thank you for inviting me. I enjoyed your company.”
“Even the silence?” Rowan looked vulnerable again, but this time, there was no fear in her eyes.
“Especially the silence.” Desiree leaned against the driver’s side door and made room for Rowan to stand close. Resting her hands on Rowan’s hips, she managed to suppress her pleasure when Rowan blushed again. “I’m a very private person,” Desiree said. “Part of the reason I was so standoffish in the past was my desire to preserve my space. Growing up the way I did, personal space was never an option. That’s why I guard it so jealously.”
Rowan reached out and cupped Desiree’s cheek. “I will do my best to honor your trust. I won’t take it for granted.” There was another unspoken part of that powerful notion: Rowan trusted her as well. Some part of Desiree understood this was far more important than letting Rowan inside her space. The deep sadness that Nicola’s name inspired was far more serious than Desiree’s desire to be in control of her own life.
Desiree heard a buzzing sound coming from Rowan’s front pocket.
“Is it okay if I read the text? I don’t want to be rude.”
Desiree blinked. Most students these days had their cell growing out of their hand as they texted constantly. It was a bitch to hold up a conversation with someone who was constantly tapping away on their phone. “Your mother sure brought you up right.”
“Oh, Mama would love to hear that.” Rowan’s pleasure at the compliment was contagious; Desiree found herself grinning in return.
“Go ahead, answer the text.” Desiree leaned back and closed her eyes briefly. It had been a long day. She’d have loved a nap, but that would have to wait. She needed to study in the library carrel to avoid being seduced into sleep. The old dorms were so hot, the radiators were constantly hissing and clanging.
Rowan jostled her a bit. Damn, had she dozed?
“It was Sarah Jameson. I’m working on her house.” Rowan tapped her phone on her lower lip as she thought. “What would you say to an unconventional third date?”
“That depends.” Desiree was curious. “Lay it on me and I’ll tell you if I’m game.”
“I’m working on some murals in their fixer-upper. I thought you might like to come with me.”
“I’m a horrible painter.”
“Well, there’s a lot to be done: painting walls, refinishing woodwork, and some good old-fashioned cleaning. You can pick your poison.”
Desiree’s giggle turned into a downright guffaw. “Oh my God, my mother would love that.”
“Is that a no?”
“Not at all, it’s a resounding yes. Restoration has always fascinated me. I just don’t have a whole lot of skills.” Desiree was warming to this idea. It could totally help her with her job at the Orchard Inn. She even considered inviting Rowan to work with her there, but that was a little too much commitment at this point.
Rowan’s smile was so big and open, Desiree’s heart melted.
“I don’t know what your schedule is, but she’s pretty open. Sarah is an alum and knows exactly how hard it is to make time for work outside of classes.”
The idea was growing on her. “I’m pretty tight during the week. Could we try for Saturday or Sunday?” Making time for her “date” was going to be a challenge since she wanted to put her time in at work and keep a handle on her studies. “I can only spare a few hours. Would that be okay?”
“Totally. You can stop by anytime and Sarah will put you to work. Fair warning: her toddler Evie will talk your ear off.”
“Little kids are the perfect escape from reality. That’s it, I’m all in.”
Rowan leaned into Desiree and gave her a kiss that left her breathless. “See you next weekend, if not sooner.”
Desiree tugged her down for a more elaborate kiss. She took her time, reveling in the texture of Rowan’s tongue and the smoothness of her lips. She would have continued if not for the catcalls.
Rowan reluctantly broke their kiss and faced their tormentors. “Not cool, Jodeci and Suzie.”
“Suzie what?” Desiree’s roommate teased, then switched her focus to Desiree. “If you’re done sucking face, I need a ride home.”
Desiree cringed. Intimacy with Rowan was too special for such a crass characterization. “Get in the car and zip it,” Desiree ordered.
Rowan drew her into an all too brief hug. “See you later?”
Desiree stole one final kiss. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Porter Hall
Suzie Tyler was messing with her stylishly jagged blond hair. Lana had cut it much shorter this time, and the longest bits caressed her chin.
“You know it doesn’t count if you spend this much time on it,” Desiree said, teasing her.
“It takes time and practice to rock the I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-only-had-time-to-fix-my-eyeliner look.” Suzie’s haircut was far edgier than her personality. She was sweet and gay as a bowl of rainbow Fruit Loops.
Desiree walked to her own closet, trying to figure out something to wear that was attractive yet appropriate for getting dirty. She nixed several possibilities, not willing to get paint stains on her most comfortable clothes, and peeked out from behind her closet door. “Do you have anything you wouldn’t mind getting ruined with paint and stuff?”
Suzie was at her side so fast, Desiree
clutched her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Do you want to tell me why you need something to get down and dirty in?” Suzie leered at her but waggled her eyebrows to show she wasn’t being even remotely serious.
“It’s not that kind of thing, well not exactly.” Desiree didn’t want to let on how much she really wished the date ended with her being very naked beneath…
Suzie snapped her fingers three times before Desiree blinked. “Sure, you want to ruin something of mine without dishing the goods.” Suzie crossed her arms. “Not happening. You tell me what’s going on or I’m not going to help you.”
Desiree slouched against the closet door and banged her head lightly against it. She so didn’t want to have this conversation with Suzie. To be honest she was incredibly protective of what was going on between her and Rowan. It seemed too fragile to talk about, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to have this conversation with Rowan. “I’m not ready yet, but I promise you will be the first to know.”
Suzie lightly grasped Desiree’s hand, then rocked it back and forth with equal gentleness. “I know and I’ll help.”
Desiree brightened.
“But I do reserve the right to nag and tease you within an inch of your life.”
Desiree sucked in a breath.
“Privately, and no not even with Jodeci, who is practically bursting at the seams.” Suzie disappeared into her own closet and came out with an armful of options. “They’re punk, so stains and rips of any kind can only add value and street cred.”
Desiree rolled her eyes but smiled warmly at her friend. “Thank you for not pushing and for these.” After putting on a mini fashion show, they decided the blue Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt was the best option.
“It brings out the gold in your eyes. Speaking of eyes—”
“No makeup, that’s ridiculous.”
“Fair enough, but brush out your hair and use some product.” Suzie tossed her a bottle of antifrizz oil. “I can deal without glossy lips, but I refuse to send you out the door with scruffy hair.”
Desiree obediently followed the grooming advice and slipped into what had been her favorite pair of jeans before a pen had exploded in the pocket. She pulled her brown curls back into a ponytail so her shoulder-length hair wouldn’t get paint on it. “Okay, so how do I look?”
Suzie paused and didn’t speak for so long, Desiree was getting self-conscious. In the end, one word said it all. “Happy.”
aaAA
Desiree practically needed a boost to get up into the cab of Rowan’s truck.
“I share this with some buddies of mine and we’re all pretty tall,” Rowan said in apology.
“Not a problem. I’ll just add mountain climbing to the list of activities for our date.”
“All buckled?”
“Yup.”
The drive passed in quiet comfort. She enjoyed the scenery as they drove along the country road where there were far more trees than houses, though the trees were starting to look pretty bare. “That one’s my favorite.”
“Favorite what?” Rowan asked with a dreamy expression. Desiree wondered what she was thinking about before she interrupted her.
“Tree, the one coming up, on the right.” She loved the way the branches seemed to be in motion, reaching skyward.
“Oh yeah, I love that one too. Though I have a special place in my heart for the ones that persist, even when the tree surgeons cut away branches and boughs.” She pointed to the left. The tree had been pruned out in the center to make way for the power lines.
“That’s a can-do spirit if I ever saw one.”
“Like you,” Rowan complimented her.
Desiree blushed. The comparison made her feel special and seen. Up until now, her struggles had remained hidden. She reached out to place her hand on Rowan’s where it rested on the gearshift.
The crunching of metal and shattering of glass were the last things Desiree was aware of before she blacked out.
Chapter Thirty-two
One week later
Trauma Health Center
Springfield, MA
The acrid smell of antiseptics and the blipping of a heart-rate monitor accompanied Desiree’s first moments of consciousness. Next, she heard her mother praying in French. A teardrop splashed on Desiree’s cold hand. “Maman?”
Rosalie’s makeup was smeared, trails of mascara tracing the wrinkles Desiree had never noticed in her mother’s face. She had never seen her mother so truly and utterly devastated. “Ooh lalalaa…ma petite ange.”
Her mother stood and kissed her forehead, then smoothed the hair that Desiree did not realize was tickling her face until she felt relief.
Her mouth was so dry, her lips were sticking to her teeth as she mumbled, “Maman, what has happened?”
“There was a car accident. Someone fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into the truck.” Rosalie’s voice was so shaky, Desiree had to listen hard to understand what she was saying. “They crossed the line, and there was no time to turn away.”
Desiree’s heart seized. Rowan can’t be dead. The monitor reflected her agitation. Soon after, a nurse and doctor rushed to her bedside.
“Are you in pain?” the doctor inquired.
Desiree shook her head and instantly regretted it. “My head…hurts bad.”
“I’d like to examine you first before I can give you medicine for the pain.”
The light the doctor shined in each eye felt like an ice pick jabbing her pain, but that was nothing next to the agony, the possibility that Rowan was gone. “Rowan?”
The nurse fed her ice chips; it helped with the thirst, but the nonanswer confirmed her fears. The monitors started making a racket that compounded the pain in her head. Tears slipped down her face, soaking her gown. “Please, you must tell me. Is Rowan dead?”
“No, my love, she is not,” her mother interrupted before the nurse injected a sedative into her IV. Desiree’s eyes grew heavy, the relief and the drugs sapping her strength. Once again, she surrendered to darkness.
aaAA
Rowan and Jodeci’s Apartment
“Any change?” Jodeci asked Maggie Knight as she passed Rowan’s mother a cup of coffee. She’d brought it from the Haymarket and kept it warm in a thermal cup. Times like this called for the good stuff.
Maggie’s eyes were red, and she tried to smile. “No, love, she just sleeps all the time. Won’t talk to her mama, not even her pappy.”
“Did you tell her that Desiree woke up? That’s she’s gonna be sent home soon?” Rowan was scaring the crap out of them all. She wasn’t talking, she wasn’t eating. Her eyes were empty. Rowan was buried deep in her own head.
“She looked me in the eyes like she was hearing me. Then she was gone.”
Jodeci started to pace. “Should we take her back to the hospital?”
Maggie shook her head. “No, love, that would only make it worse. Waking up in a hospital.” She paused, gripping the edge of the kitchen table so hard, her fingertips were white, and her nail beds took on a red hue. “She’s not there, not aware. If she woke up in the hospital alone, it would terrify her.”
“The nightmares are getting worse, lass,” Pappy said as he left Rowan’s bedroom. “Calls for Nicola, whimpering that poor Desiree’s name.”
Jodeci closed her eyes. “Tears my heart out.”
“This Desiree, she love my grandbaby?” Pappy’s voice was still gravelly even though he’d given up smokes years ago. Rowan said he did it for her.
She was pretty sure Rowan was in love, but had no idea if the feeling was mutual. “I don’t know, Pappy. Rowan is a private person. She wouldn’t talk to me about her.”
“I see.” Pappy went back into Rowan’s bedroom, and began to sing to his granddaughter—Irish lullabies.
Jodeci’s eyes welled, then tears escaped her lashes and splashed on her shirt. Maggie stood and took Jodeci in her arms, rocking her. Now that Desiree was out of her coma, she finally felt safe to let go. S
he trembled.
“That’s it, I got you.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Porter Hall
Desiree thought her mother would whisk her back to New York, or, at least, insist she leave South Hadley immediately. Instead, Rosalie asked Desiree where she wanted to go when released from the hospital and took her back to Porter. She had even been kind to Suzie, asking if it would be okay for her to have a moment alone with Desiree.
“She is a polite young woman, a good friend to you,” Rosalie said after the door closed.
“Yes, she is.” Desiree didn’t know what to do with this version of her mother. She also didn’t know what to do with her hands, she was so unnerved. When she started picking at her cuticles, she waited for her mother to chide her. Silence.
“I have a story to tell you if you are willing to listen to me.”
Rosalie had fixed her makeup before they left the hospital, but for the first time, her mother actually looked her age. It made her heart ache. “Of course, Maman.”
“You are far more generous than I would be in your shoes.”
Rosalie tucked her hair behind her ears, and Desiree could see the tremor in her hand. She stood and guided her mother to sit beside her on the bed.
“You’ve grown into quite the young woman, despite all I have done against you.”
“Please, Maman, that is in the past.”
“Perhaps.” Rosalie stared out the bay window, but Desiree doubted she could see the green or the lovely brick buildings that lined the square. “When I was a girl, I fell in love.”
