The Rosewood Diary

by Teri Blake

  “My husband is leaving. I’ve tried to be the face of the perfect wife for the last fourteen years, but it wasn’t enough. He’s moving to Arizona and told me he’ll take the kids over winter break and in the summer…the summer! The best part of living here.” She frowned and her jaw trembled.

  Quin was surprised, and not sure how to respond. Most people didn’t confide in her, mostly because she never let them get close enough to do so. “What’s going to happen in the neighborhood when they find out?” Quin kept Karla’s slow pace.

  “They’ll think I’m a fraud. I’ve always painted our lives as idyllic, even when they weren’t. Who needs to see someone else’s mess?”

  Painting things as perfect when they weren’t was her specialty, both in life and in career. Since Quin didn’t live there, hadn’t seen the picture Karla had painted, she was safe to talk to. “I don’t think Paxton would judge you that way.” Though, he had been harsh about a rabbit, so maybe she was wrong.

  “He’s a very small part of the neighborhood. I can’t stay in that house. I love this area, it’s always been my home, but I can’t stay. He won’t pay for it.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and hung her head. “I don’t know where I’ll go with the kids. I can’t work enough hours while they’re at school to pay for that house myself.”

  She had Ryla’s house…right in the same neighborhood. With plenty of rooms and space. But she’d only met Karla twice and she obviously had issues with truthfulness if the whole neighborhood believed lies about her family. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I don’t expect you to have answers. You just seemed like the type who would listen and you’re literally the only person I know of who doesn’t know my life. I had to talk to someone. I’m sorry for dumping on you when you just lost your sister.”

  Quin stopped and faced Karla, forcing her to stop. “I’m dealing with that the best I can. Slowly. If I think of any way to help you, I will.” It could be as easy as getting to know her a little better. “Maybe you’d like to come over later?”

  Karla let her face relax and then her shoulders followed until she looked calm again. “I’d like that. I’ll bring something to go along with those green beans. I…like to cook when I’m stressed. Maisy and Davin will be excited. The last few days have been stressful once their dad gets home from work. We’ll just leave him a portion and escape to Rosewood.”

  She thought about the name on the front of the house, how few people did that. “Do you think it’s silly? Naming a house?”

  “My mom said your parents were…eccentric. They always did things their own way. No one was surprised when your father put that sign out.”

  “Your mom used to live here?” She didn’t remember Karla at all.

  “Yes, in the house I live in now, but it was only a time-share then and we never got prime time. My mother hired a nanny to follow me and my siblings around, so we never went to school. I got to live all over as a child, but I don’t have those lifelong friends that some do.”

  Quin didn’t either. Once she’d left Driftwood Bay, she’d cut ties with every friend she’d had in the hopes of having fewer reasons to have to come home. “Well, in that way, we’re very similar.”

  “Good. I hope we find lots more ways we are. I should get back to the house before the kids get home from school. I’ll see you tonight.” Karla waved as she crossed the sand to the house two down from Rosewood.

  Quin waved in return then waded into the water for a minute to cool her bare feet. Ryla had loved the waves lapping against her toes. Most of her art in the attic had to do with the ocean and the beach. Water played a huge part. Quin never allowed herself to paint the ocean, too afraid that the old animosity of her life would show through. Ryla hadn’t let it.

  As she turned her feet back toward home, she considered those paintings and how much the neighborhood loved this beach. Maybe she could find her own love for it again through Ryla’s art, if she could stand to look at it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Never in the history of Rosewood House had Quin remembered there being so many people inside. Her parents sat in the living room, trying to look friendly and failing. Paxton sat next to them, but despite the common connection of Ryla, they had little to talk about. Maisy and Davin raced around the living room trying to keep Duggy from the door while Karla sat with Quin in the kitchen.

  “He didn’t even care that we weren’t going to be there. He tossed his portion in the microwave and waved at us like strangers. Are we strangers?” Karla’s expression went vacant again as it had a few times already and she’d only been there for a half-hour.

  Quin felt ill-prepared to give any advice. What did she know about husbands or relationships? “Maybe. People do change. I’m sorry though. It has to be tough watching someone you love become someone else right before your eyes.” And just as hard to miss it until the transformation was complete. Her thoughts drifted for a moment to the diaries and how much Ryla had changed.

  “I just don’t know what to do.” Karla’s jaw clicked as she closed her mouth and glanced to the door as Paxton peered in.

  “Karla, where’s Rob? I haven’t seen him around much.” Paxton went to the fridge and helped himself to a soda.

  “He’s…” Her eyes locked on Quin, widening slightly as she looked for help.

  “He’s out for a while.” Quin offered. The only time she’d ever had someone want to sit with her and talk was about art. Having Karla there was healing, and she would do what she could to make her new friend comfortable, though she hoped to fill him in on the truth when they were alone.

  Paxton popped open the top. “Out? That’s odd. He usually sticks right by your side.” He took a long drink. “Quin, can I talk to you for a second?”

  She offered Karla an apologetic frown and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  “It’s okay. Take your time. I’ve got to get these burgers on the grill.” She feigned a smile.

  Paxton led her down the hall to Ryla’s room, the only currently quiet place in all of Rosewood House. He opened the door, let her in, then closed it behind them. “I’m sorry. I know you were being there for Karla. I could tell by her body language that something’s not right and I think that’s great you’re helping, but there’s an issue with your parents.” He crossed his arms and wouldn’t keep eye contact. Worry churned in her stomach.

  In the brief time she’d known him, he’d never had trouble talking to her about anything, even the hard subjects. “What’s going on?”

  “They kind of act like no one can hear them. I’m not sure if they’re really kind of deaf or if they just assume no one is smart enough to understand… Anyway, they’re planning to try to sell the house out from under you so they can move on. Sounds like they are kind of hoping you’ll come to your senses once there are bids on the table and you see the money. I thought you should know.”

  The wrenching in her chest was unexpected. How could they just want to get rid of her childhood home and the place where Ryla had lived her whole life? Though she couldn’t stay there, she couldn’t let it go either. “Thanks for telling me…I’m not sure what else to say.” He’d let his feelings be known the day before and she wouldn’t press him further. At least he was being friendly.

  He stepped closer. The unexpected near contact stole her breath momentarily and she backed away.

  “I’m sorry, Quin. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk with you about Duggy. I keep expecting you to act in the way Ryla described you, but she had you all wrong.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I just forget that you’re human. Can you forgive me for being human too?”

  She laughed but it came out more of a choked sob. “I don’t know what else I’d be.”

  He gripped her arms gently. “You were her super-star. The thing that made her your biggest fan, was also her biggest issue with you.”

  “The selfishness.” She’d figured that part out right away.

  “She wanted to feel li
ke she was connected to something special, but also wanted her sister back. I’m sorry I only believed her side when we met.”

  She’d spent so long separating herself from Ryla because she reminded Quin of growing up. A connection with her sister was one step closer to a connection with her parents, and Quin couldn’t handle that. “I wish I had known that she could be that super-star for me.”

  She didn’t want to think about Paxton misjudging her. He hadn’t been that far off the mark when she’d arrived. “What happens to me doesn’t matter. I need to decide what to do with this house, but more importantly, the paintings.” If she’d still had Ben as her assistant, she could call him and find out how to sell or show them, but he wasn’t and wouldn’t be again. Mostly, she didn’t want to talk to him at all.

  “I think you need to have your parents leave, but it isn’t my call. As far as the paintings, that’s up to you. She left them to you to do with as you please.”

  Her apartment seemed very far away—cold and lonely after living near Paxton and Karla. Going back and trying to paint would never be the same now without neighbors who cared and without a little brown rabbit with an attitude.

  “I don’t know what I please.” But letting her parents just shoo her away wasn’t it. That much she knew. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “I want you to know you’re not alone. You have a lot of questions, but you’re coming up with answers. That’s pretty amazing considering what you’ve gone through.” Paxton lingered, his eyes searching hers like he wanted to say more.

  Was this his nurse nature or was he really offering himself? Ben’s duplicity made her wary. He’d only attached himself to her for his own gain.

  “I don’t know how to do life with others.” Though, having Paxton and Karla to talk to had helped her sort through her feelings as much as other people could.

  “Well, you’re getting a crash-course.” He squeezed her arm briefly. “I’m going to go help Karla with that grill. Poor Duggy would probably like to be put in his enclosure. I think he’s had enough play.”

  That and with everyone going in and out, to and from the grill, he could make an escape. She laughed, wondering if Duggy would prefer her over a couple teens. The thought reminded her of the diary she’d yet to sit down and read. “I’ll take care of him, and thanks again.”

  He brushed her hair behind her ear. “Once in a while, I get it right.”

  Her eyes locked with his as her heart sped. Ben had never made her feel like that. She stepped away again. There was no time for exploring anything with Paxton. She had to clear up Ryla’s affairs, figure out what to do with the paintings, and settle her own heart. Hopefully, the diaries would offer her that closure.

  She found Duggy waiting outside the door and scooped him up to safety, giving him a few strokes as she nestled him in his enclosure. The action calmed her, giving her purpose as she strode down the hall and found her parents sitting alone in the living room. The kids had left, probably to find their mom, and Paxton headed for the back door, giving her a reassuring nod as he went by.

  “Mom, Dad, I think we need to talk.” She entered the living room and remained standing. If she sat, it would feel like she was begging and this wasn’t asking, she was telling them what she needed. They could either agree…or go.

  Dad tilted his head slightly. “What’s the matter?”

  She took a deep breath and dove in. “Paxton let me know your plans for the house and I wanted you to know I’m not okay with that. If you won’t let me handle this house and the affairs Ryla left me to handle, at my pace, then you’ll have to let me do it on my own. If you want to help, then step back. She left the house to me.” Her stomach roiled as she stood up to them for the first time.

  “I think you misunderstood, or Paxton did.” Mom scowled. “We wanted to take care of all of this because you don’t have the money. You can’t even handle the rabbit, how are you going to handle a house?” She threw her hands in the air.

  Dad reached out and rested his hand on mom’s arm. “How do you plan to pay for your apartment and this house? We wouldn’t exactly be good parents if we just left you drowning in debt. The house may be paid off, but there are monthly expenses. I don’t think you could even pay the taxes on this house.”

  She’d never owned a home in her life, hadn’t even looked into ownership. But money wasn’t a good enough excuse to sell Ryla’s home without dealing with everything first.

  “You have your ways, I have mine. I’m not asking you to pay for anything. I’m only asking that you let me take care of the things she entrusted to me.” She hadn’t asked for their help since college and she wouldn’t start now.

  Mom gripped her arms, protecting herself, and sighed deeply. “You must think we’re out to get you. I don’t see why you can’t just trust us to take care of this? Do you have any idea how much this house is worth? You wouldn’t have to worry about paying your rent for years. You’d have the money. Just sell it and move on.”

  Selling the house was like putting her sister’s memory on the auction block. She couldn’t sell when she was finally getting to know the woman who’d been reaching out for years. If only she hadn’t waited until it was too late. “No. And if you can’t abide that, I think you should go.” She turned on her heel and left. Instead of joining Paxton and Karla by the grill, she diverted her path to Ryla’s room.

  The leather-bound diary encompassing her sister’s teen years lay where she’d left it next to the bed. Duggy hopped to the bars of his cage and stuck his nose between them sniffing toward her.

  “I’m sorry, Duggy. Did Paxton and I keep you from getting to your hiding spot before the kids got here?”

  As usual, he turned away and ignored her. If she had to, could she take him with her? Could he be a replacement companion when she got lonely? Surely the loneliness would come after befriending Paxton and Karla. She scooped up the soft rabbit and he pumped his little legs.

  “Don’t worry, little dude. I’m not going to hurt you.” She snuggled him close and he nestled into her neck.

  She lay on the bed and Duggy hopped off her chest and inspected the perimeter of the bed, sniffing and slowly stretch-hopping around her, his little nose wiggling constantly. Quin opened the front cover and found this diary much different than the last. Whereas her elementary diary was almost chilly with wanting to sound older than she was, the teen diary was multi-colored with drawings in the margins and more exclamation points than periods.

  With a slow, steady hand she ran her finger over the bumpy script on the page.

  “Hey, you coming? Supper’s ready.” Paxton leaned against the door frame.

  Duggy rushed to the edge of the bed and slowly inched over as close as he could get to Paxton without launching off the side.

  The choice hurt. Paxton wasn’t here all the time. He didn’t feed the rabbit. He didn’t keep the hay clean in his litter box. Paxton only visited. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute. The table should be ready.” She’d set it before anyone had arrived.

  He nodded but stayed for a moment. “Your parents left while I was outside.”

  She stood and set the book back on the nightstand for later. “I assumed they would after I talked to them. They’re used to me doing exactly as they ask, not rocking the boat.” If anything, it was time for her to do some major boat-rocking.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The first entry in the second diary was a full two years after the last. As if Ryla had suddenly decided journaling was a good idea again. The writing was in three different colors and certain words popped off the page. Heart, pain, and never. Quin tugged a blanket around her shoulders as she concentrated on the words.

  Dear Later Self,

  It’s been two years since I bothered with writing. It doesn’t help anyway. Quin—though I love her to pieces—is still the best child. Sometimes I wonder if Dad and Mom would’ve rather had only one. Even after all this time, nothing I do gets their attention. I went to the doctor today becau
se my heart started racing at school. So hard my chest was in pain. My whole body shook, and it scared the teachers and nurse.

  When we got to the doctor’s, Mom told me not to make such a fuss. She told me I was being overly dramatic. I never tell them anything that isn’t serious because they’re too busy to listen anyway. I guess I can’t even have a heart attack right.

  After the doctor looked at me a while, ran some tests, and gave me a shot to slow my heart down, he sat down next to the bed. He told Mom he thought my heart was acting strangely. He said it was necessary for me to come back in for more tests to figure out what’s at the root of the problem. We’ll see if they actually do. I’m not Quin.

  Quin closed the book for a moment and grabbed a tissue. Her sister had been having heart problems that her parents knew about since she was in eighth grade, but Mom hadn’t remembered any of the early stuff. They’d gone to the dude ranch two years later and no one had told Quin that there was anything seriously wrong, even then. She hadn’t learned until Ryla was older that the problems would never go away. When she’d finally been made aware, no one seemed to make a big deal out of it, so she hadn’t either.

  Paxton had left the attic open for her and she gathered her flashlight and headed for the ladder. Without him there to make sure she made it, she took the ladder slowly and caught her balance on the floor once she’d planted her feet again.

  The exposed bulbs cast an eerie light on the softly colored canvases. Ryla had painted more in the last few years than Quin had painted in her life as a professed painter. There were probably hundreds of them along the walls. All of them would need to be cataloged if anyone else was ever to see them. She hoped Ryla mentioned them in her last diary, but she couldn’t skip ahead. It wasn’t like a website where she could just do a quick search for the content she needed, and she didn’t want to do it that way anyway.