The only good thing that happened in the past two weeks was her reconciliation with Vickie. Just thinking about Vickie brought a smile to her lips.
Movement down in the yard brought her to her feet at the same moment her bedroom door opened. She turned to see Luna Mae, resplendent in a long, flowing, scarlet gown shot through with gold threads, advance into the room.
“Shhh, don’t make a sound, Rosie, and back away from the window. You bypassed the alarm system when you opened the window. I told you not to do that, baby. A window screen does not afford the same protection as a closed, locked window. Did you ever hear the wordladder? Someone’s in the yard. I heard a noise but couldn’t identify it. I got up, looked out the window, and saw this shadowy figure down below. It might be a good idea to start thinking about getting a dog. I don’t trust that husband of yours. I think we should call the police.”
“I don’t trust him either, Luna Mae. Let’s go downstairs. Don’t turn any lights on. If we call the police, it will be in the papers tomorrow, and Kent will see it. It will give him satisfaction, and I don’t want that. Besides, I’m sure it’s Kent out there prowling around. We are not going to play into his hands. The only thing I am really certain of is, he is not going to give up. He’s convinced I won the lottery, and he wants his piece of it. Just so you know, Luna Mae, I’ll never claim it if I have to give him half.”
“That’s my girl.” Luna Mae reached for the cordless phone. “Just in case we have to dial nine-one-one.”
Together they walked down the hall, careful to stay away from the outside windows, with the moonlight filtering through the vertical blinds. There were no creaky steps on the staircase as they made their way to the bottom and out to the dining room and kitchen.
“Whoever it was I saw was over by the corner of the garage next to the gardens,” Luna Mae said from her position by the kitchen window.
“That’s where I saw him, too. It might have been a her, it was really too dark to see,” Rosie said.
“It doesn’t matter who it is. No one should be in the yard prowling around at three o’clock in the morning. Whoever it is, is up to no good. That’s a given.” To Rosie’s horror, Luna Mae said, “They could murder us in our own beds. Criminals know how to disarm alarm systems. That’s why we should get a dog.”
“All right, all right, Luna Mae, you made your point. We’ll get a dog, and I will not open the windows anymore. Don’t even think about going outside.”
“Me? Go outside? I don’t think so.”
“Good. Maybe whoever is out there is intent on stealing the stuff in the garage. His or her loss since just about everything has been moved to the Simmons mansion. Do you think I should start calling it the Winters mansion now that Vickie owns it?”
“I think you should call it whatever you want to call it. What should we do now, Rosie?”
“Give me the phone, and you go back to bed. I’m going to go on the treadmill. Tomorrow, today actually, is my first day with the trainer. I at least want topretend I know what I’m doing. Like learning how to set the timers and to turn the damn things on and off.”
“Rosie, you will be an open target with those wraparound windows in the sunroom. The moonlight is a little too bright. I see by that determined look on your face you’re going to do it regardless of what I say. Just don’t turn on any lights.”
“Go! I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going to sleep. I’m going to make some coffee.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than the front doorbell rang. The two women stood in the dining room, huddled together, their startled gazes locked.
“Maybe it’s the police saying they found the prowler,” Luna Mae whispered.
“We didn’t call the police, Luna Mae,” Rosie whispered in return.
“Maybe the police were patrolling the area and spotted him. They do patrol, you know. My God, you aren’t going to open the door, are you?”
“No, I am not going to open the door, Luna Mae. I’m also not going to live in fear in my own house. However, I am going to the front window and peek out.”
“I’m going with you. When we get that dog, we should also get a gun. Don’t you move one step till I get the butcher knife.” Rosie nodded as the housekeeper scampered into the kitchen to return with a wicked-looking knife that she held out in front of her.
The doorbell pealed again.
The two women’s sweaty bare feet made a sucking sound as they ran across the wood floors to the front window.
“It’s Kent!” Rosie gasped, horror registering on her face.
The doorbell rang a third time.
“Go back to the kitchen. Here’s the phone. I want to see what he wants.”
“Oh, baby, no. This is not a good thing. I don’t think you should open the door.”
“Go, Luna Mae.”
Any other time, Rosie would have been mortified to have her husband see her in clinging jersey pajamas that cleaved to her ample body. She squared her shoulders, reached up to press the button to turn on the outside light. She unlocked the door and opened it. She blocked the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
“It’s three-thirty in the morning, Kent. You’re lucky I didn’t call the police. What do you want?”
He looked terrible, with dark circles under his eyes, his clothes wrinkled and messy. He badly needed a shave, and his hair was standing on end. He looked like he’d lost weight. His appearance pleased Rosie.
“Can I come in, Rosalie? I know it’s late, but I couldn’t sleep. We need to talk.”
Suddenly, Rosie felt more powerful than she’d ever felt in her life. “I think you have me confused with someone who might care about what you think or feel.” She reached out to close the door.
“Please, Rosalie.”
Rosie tilted her head to the side. “Are you groveling, Kent?”
Kent’s head reared back. “No! Yes, if that’s what you want. Listen, Rosalie, I’m sorry about…everything. I didn’t realize how much I…I want to make it up to you. I know now I was a lousy husband. I was never married before,” he whined.
Rosie’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. She could just imagine Luna Mae in the kitchen covering her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.
“Are you…are you saying you want to come back to me? That you still want to be married to me? Is that what you’re trying to say, Kent?”
“Well, yes,” Kent said, looking everywhere but at Rosie.
Rosie smiled. “In that case, maybe you should come inside. I don’t think my neighbors need to hear this. By the way, you don’t look like your usual dapper self this morning, Kent. You poor thing, you have had a rough time of it these past two weeks, haven’t you?”
Kent sighed with happiness. He had it in the bag. He was sure of it. Rosalie’s smile was all he needed to see. She still loved him, still needed him.
“You have no idea, Rosalie. No idea at all.”
“Well, sure I do, Kent. I’ve been alone, too. Now let’s make sure I understand all this. You want to come back here. Move back in, is that right?”
“Nothing would make me happier.”
“You want things to be just the way they were, is that right?”
“You bet.”
“No, no, no. If you want to come back, we need some new rules. Let’s be real careful here. Tell me if this is how you see your return. You’re going to continue working for Mr. Maloy. You will work hard, coming home for lunch every day, work through the afternoon, be home for dinner at six-thirty, spend your evenings with me. Every evening. There will be no more evening appointments. You and I will cozy up in front of the TV set and eat snacks. Just another old married couple.
“We’ll sleep together and have sexevery night, after which we will cuddle. We’ll shower together in the morning, then have a lovely breakfast. We don’t need that cliquey, snobby country club. We’ll be spending too much time together to go there, and it’s such a waste of money. We will just be so b
usy trying to get pregnant. I can see it now! I see us having four, maybe five children. Three girls, two boys. You get to name the boys, I get to name the girls. Lordy, I will put on soooo much weight. It will be worth it, though. Yes, five kids. And we’ll trade in the Porsche for a VW Beetle. They’re so fashionable. And cute. Just perfect for you to scoot around in. Oh, and you will turn over your check to me every week to help with all the household bills and such. You can take an allowance. We need to build up our bank account. The one we’ll open when you come back. No credit cards either. If we can’t pay cash, we don’t buy it. Is that how you see your return, Kent?”
Kent stared at his wife, a look of horrified disbelief on his face. It looked to Rosie like he was having a hard time breathing.
“In the past, Kent, it was all about you. Now, sweetie, it’s all about me.”
“You’re out of your mind, Rosalie. No man in his right mind would agree to conditions like that. C’mon now, stop fooling around. Let’s be realistic.”
“What part didn’t you like?” Her voice was so neutral one would have thought she was discussing a particular cut of meat from the local butcher.
“The whole damn thing. I said I was willing to come back if we picked up where we left off. No, no, no, I don’t and won’t accept those terms.”
“Hey, honey, I didn’t ask you to come back, now did I? You were crawling around in my backyard at three o’clock in the morning, not the other way around. I guess you didn’t understand when I said it’s all about me now. Take it or leave it.”
Rosalie quickly opened the door and waited, knowing exactly what her husband would do. He didn’t disappoint her. She smiled. He shook his fist in her face, the same look of hatred and revulsion on his face that she’d seen two weeks ago.
“Bitch!” he seethed.
“Bastard,” she shot back.
He wasn’t moving. What he was doing was doubling up his fist. Rosie backed up, alarm on her face.
“Eyow!”Luna Mae bellowed at the top of her lungs like a Ninja as she rushed to the foyer, the butcher knife straight out in front of her, her nighttime pigtail swinging wildly. Kent barreled through the door. Rosie slammed it shut and locked it.
Rosie’s eyebrows shot upward, almost to her hairline. “What do you call that move you just performed?”
Luna Mae sliced the air with the butcher knife. “Luna Mae with a butcher knife! It worked, didn’t it. I bet he lost half the tread off those Brooks Brothers loafers of his.”
For some reason Luna Mae’s comments made Rosie laugh. She collapsed on the steps and howled. “I wish you could have seen yourself. Hell, you even scared me. Do you believe the gall of that man? He really thought he could waltz right in here, and I was going to fall all over him.
“We are going to get that dog, and we’re also going to upgrade our alarm system. The only thing I’m having trouble with is that I was such a fool. Getting my nose rubbed in it again and again makes it that much easier to follow through with the divorce. And dealing with the lottery ticket,” Rosie said sotto voce.
“Okay, I think I’m going to go into the sunroom and read the directions on my new exercise equipment so I can at least appear to have a brain when the trainer gets here. What’s for breakfast?”
“Puffed rice, skim milk, blueberries, black coffee, and one slice of toast.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want to know about lunch?”
“I don’t think so. I did lose seven pounds in two weeks, though. One of these days, I’m going to start jogging.”
Luna Mae waved the butcher knife as she rearmed the alarm system. “Good night, baby.”
“’Night, Luna Mae.”
Rosie didn’t cry until she closed the French doors that led to the sunroom. She didn’t just cry, she bawled and howled her misery that she’d been stupid and naive enough to marry a man who loved her money but hated her.
Well, it was a whole new game now, and she was the one who would set the rules.
Just because she’d been stupid once didn’t mean she had to be stupid forever.
Rosie yanked at the instruction manual hanging off the bar on the treadmill. The instruction booklets for the StairMaster and Exercycle were on the floor. She sat down on the window seat to study them. By seven-thirty she knew how to adjust all the different gizmos. The only thing she didn’t do was try them out.
Rosie headed for the second floor to shower. Her trainer was due at nine o’clock, which meant she had to eat her skimpy breakfast by eight o’clock.
A new day.
The doorbell rang as Rosie was walking toward the sunroom to wait for her personal trainer. She looked down at her watch. Two minutes to nine. He was early. She liked that. Rosie hitched up her sweatpants, which felt a tad loose with the seven pounds she’d lost. She drew in a deep breath, wondering what kind of trainer she was getting for a hundred bucks an hour. Luna Mae said that Savannah’s Olympus Gym, one of many in a chain across the country, told her Jack, no last name, was the best of the best.
Rosie opened the door and hoped the disappointment she felt at the sight of the trainer didn’t show on her face. She’d expected a tall, bronze Adonis with pecs and abs and a white, toothy smile. What she was seeing was a man about her own age—in his late thirties—perhaps five-ten, with a receding hairline, muscles, and a disarming grin showing a crooked eyetooth. His eyes were brown, the color of freshly cooked chocolate pudding. Nice, warm eyes. His nose, she thought, looked like it had been broken more than once.
“Hi. You must be Jack,” Rosie said, holding out her hand. “I’m Rosie…Bliss, soon to be Rosie Gardener. No, I’m Rosie Gardener. I want you to think of me as Rosie Gardener. You okay with that, Jack? I don’t want to confuse you.”
Jack grinned. “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. Are you ready to get started?”
“No. Well, I am and I’m not. I plan to do my best. You aren’t going to work me till I drop, are you?”
“Yep.”
“Oh.”
Rosie led the way to the sunroom. It was almost bare of furniture. Luna Mae had had most of the wicker furniture carted out to the back verandah. Other than the exercise equipment, the weights, the books on healthy exercising, the only piece of furniture was a wicker chair with a bright green-and-white-striped seat cushion. For her to collapse in after her workout, Luna Mae said.
“First things first, Rosie,” Jack said. “I want you to fill out this questionnaire. Don’t skimp on the answers. I always call the doctor to find out if there’s anything about you I need to know. So, before you do that, call your doctor and tell him that he can give me the information I request, so we can get that out of the way. Here’s my cell phone.”
After speaking to the doctor and giving the phone back to Jack, Rosie began on the questionnaire. Ten minutes later, Rosie handed the clipboard back to the trainer. She watched as he carefully read every single entry. Then he wrote something on the back of the first page, probably the doctor’s assessment of her condition.
“Okay, we’re good to go. We’re going to do some warm-up stretches, followed by a few sit-ups, some jumping jacks, then we’ll tackle the machines. I brought a book for you on weight training. I want you to read it. We won’t be doing that for a while, but I do want you to read it soon. And the book on nutrition. I mapped out a week’s worth of meal plans. I want you to stick to it religiously. Any questions?”
“How long is it going to take me to get rid of forty-eight more pounds?”
Jack looked at his client. “As long as it takes,” he said coolly.
Rosie nodded. “That was the right answer, Jack. If you’d given me a time, I would have booted you right out of here. Just so you know, I’m serious here, okay?”
“Okay, Rosie, let’s do it…”
An hour later, Rosie walked the trainer to the door. Actually, she limped her way to the door. “Eat a protein bar after you shower. I put a few in your kit until you can buy your own. Take ahot shower. You
did good for the first day. Stick to the schedule I made up for you to follow on my off days. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“Just so you know, I hate your guts,” Rosie said before she slammed the front door. She heard the trainer laugh. She stopped in midstride to listen. It was a wonderful sound. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard a man laugh.
Luna Mae appeared out of nowhere. “How’d it go, baby?”
“I’m dead. I just don’t have the good sense to keel over. I hurt. You need to buy me some protein bars. And my menus are in the kit. I guess you’ll have to go to the store. If I can still walk after I take a shower, I’ll be over at Vickie’s. Not her real house, the Simmons house. We’re about ready to commence business. We can use your help today, Luna Mae. Damn, it’s raining. That weatherman is all fouled up. He predicted sun and fluffy white clouds. Do you think it’s an omen of some kind, Luna Mae?” To her ear her voice sounded overly anxious.
“No, I don’t think it’s an omen. That guy never gets it right. Remember last winter he said cool and sunny, and we got two inches of snow?”
Rosie shrugged as she limped her way to the stairs. “Among other things, I’m getting shin splints,” she grumbled.
“Stop whining, Rosie. No pain, no gain.”
“Shut up, Luna Mae.”
The housekeeper pulled out Rosie’s weekly menus from her exercise kit and laughed as she checked her purse for the car keys. She was about to set the alarm and lock the back door when a technician from the alarm company appeared. She looked at him questioningly. “We keep getting a signal at central that says there’s an electrical short somewhere. I have to check it out. It’s going to take a couple of hours.”
Pretty Woman Page 8
