“Really nice. Worn, homey, and comfortable. Kind of like Jack when you get to know him. It’s the kind of house that screams out for a bunch of kids, a couple of dogs and cats. Maybe even a bird that sings in the morning. You can’t see it from here, but there’s a real nice boathouse with a cabin cruiser and, of course, Jack’s canoe.
“Kent’s new girlfriend, at least I think she’s new, owns the house on the left. The last two on the street are empty. The very last one is for sale. Kent said he was out here doing a video for two customers. Since he said he could prove it, I guess I have to believe him. We have to cross the front lawn—that’s where the tree and swing are—to get to the back. Come on, follow me. Whatever you do, don’t step on the green moss under the tree. That’s Martha.”
Vickie rolled her eyes. “Gotcha.”
A foot away from the tree, Rosie stopped short, Vickie bumping into her. “Hi Martha! I brought a friend out today. I hope it’s okay. I heard what you did to Kent. I approve and want to thank you for that, too.”
Rosie reached for Vickie’s hand, her gaze going to the lowest branch. She smiled from ear to ear when it dipped and swayed. She could feel Vickie’s nails biting into the palm of her hand. “This is Vickie Winters. We’ve been friends since we were little kids. Say hello,” she whispered in Vickie’s ear.
“Hello, Martha. I’m Vickie,” she said self-consciously. She’d never talked to a tree before.How silly can one person be?
Both women watched as the branches, big and small, whipped upward and then gracefully slipped downward. They continued to watch as a single, lone leaf sailed downward to land in Vickie’s outstretched hand. Her eyes full of awe, Vickie nodded. The tree rustled once again, then remained still.
“She likes you,” Rosie whispered. Then she told Vickie what Kent had shared with her in the lawyer’s parking lot. Vickie shivered in the bright sunlight. “It’s okay. Come on, I want to show you the river.”
Rosie and Vickie crossed the wide expanse of lawn under the giant angel oak. Rosie pointed to the emerald patch of moss and smiled. Vickie shivered again.
“See ya later, Martha,” Rosie called over her shoulder.
Neither woman spoke until they were on the dock. “Well?” Rosie said.
“Well what? Good God, Rosie, I don’t know. It was…eerie and yet it was…was…uplifting somehow. Only one leaf fell.” She opened up her closed fist. “It feels warm. Maybe that’s from the heat of my hand. Maybe it was just a wind of some kind. You know, sometimes it rains and blows up in front of the house or across the street, and it’s calm and dry in the back. That kind of thing. No, huh? Okay, I concede that Martha’s spirit hangs out in the tree. It doesn’t scare me, but it does make me jittery. You know me. How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, Vickie. I can give you Jack’s explanation. They were very much in love, but Martha died of ovarian cancer right here in the house. She used to swing on the swing, going as high as a swing can go. Jack would push her. The day before she died, she wanted to go out on the swing, and Jack carried her out. He gave her a little push and she kept going higher and higher of her own volition. He said she went all the way to the top and when she came down, she had leaves in her hand. He has them pressed into a book. I haven’t seen them. He just told me that the other day.
“Anyway, Martha wanted to be cremated, her ashes scattered on the river. He did that, but he kept a little and buried them under the tree. He did it for himself, so he would have a place to go where she was. You know, to talk, to grieve. Then the moss grew over the spot. He accepts the moss as a sign that Martha is okay and looking out for him. However, she won’t let him on the swing. He said that the one time he tried to get on it, she booted him off. I think it’s okay to believe all this if it makes you feel better and enables you to go on without the most important person in your life.” Rosie looked out over the river.
“I’m a believer now. I can only go by what I feel and see. I’m sure there could be another explanation, but whatever it is, it eludes me. I might have been a little more skeptical, but when Kent told me what happened, that turned the tide for me. Okay, enough of this. I have to take the canoe out. I want you to sit on the dock and wait for me. Whatever you do, Vickie, don’t set foot on the riverbank. There are all kinds of alligators around here. If one ever takes off after you, run. Zigzag while you’re running. Gators can only go in a straight line. I didn’t know that until Jack told me.”
Vickie grimaced. “You’re just full of information this afternoon, aren’t you? Don’t worry about me and gators. Are you sure you’re going to be okay out there on the river by yourself?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Just sit there and daydream about Calvin till I get back. I always need help tying up the canoe. I can get it out okay, though. Don’t put your feet in the water either.”
“Yes, Mother,” Vickie drawled. She watched as Rosie worked the canoe. She thought she was going to bust with pride for her friend when she saw the hard muscles in her arms ripple. She gave an airy wave as Rosie expertly maneuvered the canoe out to open water.
Vickie sat on the deck and hugged her knees. Every so often she turned her head to look at the top of the angel oak, which could be seen over the rooftop of Jack’s house. She wished she knew more about the spirit world. Was it possible for a spirit to inhabit a tree and make overtures tolive people? Obviously Rosie and Jack both thought so. If what Kent Bliss told Rosie was true, he was also probably a believer. Who was she to say it wasn’t possible?
Vickie turned around again to stare at the treetop and saw it start to move. Her gaze ricocheted around at the other trees and shrubbery. Not a leaf stirred anywhere that she could see. The air was hot and still, stagnant really, and yet the treetop was gyrating back and forth. Vickie continued to watch, fascinated, her eyes wide.
“Okay!” she shouted. “I believe you’re there, Martha. Nice to meet you!” The tree branches instantly grew still, then they moved upward till all Vickie could see was the underbelly of the leaves. She laughed then. Rosie was right, there was a comforting feel to what she was experiencing.
Vickie turned her attention back to the river. She could see Rosie in the distance. She waved.
Rosie was finally going to be the person she was meant to be.
17
Rosie was dreaming, she was almost sure of it. Why else was she being nice to Kent Bliss?
“…Isn’t it kind of late for you to be crying, Kent? You said you hated me. If you hate me and can’t stand to look at me because I’m fat and smell, what is it you want from me? I’m fresh out of absolution.”
“It was a mistake, Rosalie. I’m sorry. It wasn’t you, it was me. Can’t you see your way clear to giving me another chance? I won’t screw up this time. I promise to work on all my shortcomings.”
“Didn’t you hear me, Kent? It’s too late? I’ve moved on. I’m in love with someone else now. There’s no room in my life for someone like you. You actually did me the biggest favor of my life. For that I will always be grateful. Now I know what it’s like to love someone and have that person return my feelings. If you hadn’t done what you did the day of our anniversary, and if I hadn’t kicked you out, I would never have met Jack. To show my gratitude, I’m going to share my Wonderball winnings with you. I won’t give you half, Kent, but I will give you some. Are you agreeable?”
“What does ‘some’ mean, Rosalie?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to talk to my lawyer and tax man. It will be enough to allow you to lead the lifestyle you want and crave. There will be strings and stipulations. You will have to agree to my terms.”
“So you did win, and you lied to me,” Kent said, outrage ringing in his voice.
“Yes. However, if I decide I can’t trust you, the deal is off. There’s no way you can prove I did or did not win. I don’t need that kind of money, Kent. I prefer to work for what I get. I’ll simply give the ticket away, then you’ll get nothing.”
“You’re insane.”
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“Iwas insane when I met and married you. Now that I have my wits about me and think like a rational person, I know what my limits are. So, get out of my dream and bother someone else.”
“You can’t get away with this any more than you can win that triathlon in November.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah, I’ll bet I can beat you, and if I do, you have to give me the Wonderball ticket. What’s it going to be, Rosalie?” Kent pressed, an evil glint in his eye. “Remember, I have Jack Silver’s gun. So, what’s your answer?”
…Rosie bolted out of bed screaming the one word,“NO!” at the top of her lungs. Buddy backed up and started to howl, his tail sliding down between his legs.
Rosie dropped to her knees and motioned for the dog to come closer. “Shhh, it was just a bad dream. A real bad dream.”
Buddy bellied up to Rosie and started to lick her face.
Rosie closed her eyes, willing her heart to resume its natural beat. She really had to do something about the Wonderball ticket. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she tried to make sense of the dream.
For weeks now she’d been thinking about turning the ticket in and simply giving Kent half. Then she’d vacillate and think about giving half to the seniors. Every time she brought it up to Jack, he just looked at her and refused to comment. She really wished she knew what he thought. It wasn’t that she wanted all the money for herself; she didn’t. She was honest with herself—she didn’t want to share it with Kent. She’d set a deadline of December 1 to decide what to do.
Was the dream she’d just had an omen of some kind? Dreams were supposed to be about a person’s subconscious worries. Well, she was worried all right, that was for sure. But would she wager the Wonderball ticket on the triathlon race as Kent suggested in her dream.Only if I’m a fool, she thought.
Rosie looked up at the little bedside clock with the digital dates on it. She had a full month of training to go till the triathlon. The last seven weeks had passed in a blur. In another few days, Halloween would be here. How she’d loved that holiday when she was a kid. Vickie had loved it, too.
Her mind racing, Rosie led Buddy down the steps and let him out. While she waited, she made coffee. The moment Buddy barreled into the house they raced through the rooms and up the steps. Today, Rosie won for the first time. Buddy barked his approval.
“I’m just a lean, mean, fighting machine, Buddy. And, I’m forty-seven pounds lighter. And, I feel damn good.” She tweaked Buddy’s ears as she stripped down to take a shower. These days she did look in the mirror. She preened this way and that way, admiring her flat stomach, her firm hard breasts. Her arms were as hard and muscled as her legs. All the cellulite was gone. The best part of it all was she no longer lived to eat. She ate to live, oftentimes forgetting. Since Labor Day, she’d only cheated twice on the special diet, then felt so guilty, she’d worked out extra hours to burn off the calories.
Mentally, she wasn’t the same person she’d been back in June and the months prior to her anniversary. She knew now that if something went awry between her and Jack, she wouldn’t turn to food. She’d suck it up, pull up her socks, and get on with the business of living. One day at a time.
Her low self-esteem had evaporated on the wind once she’d stood up, admitted her shortcomings, and made a pact with herself never to go backward. She was poised these days, according to Vickie, and could hold her own anywhere. She had self-confidence, and she now owned a kick-ass wardrobe that screamed to be noticed.
She’d done it on her own, too. Well, almost on her own. Jack had steered her in the right direction, and Vickie had made it easy for her to train by taking over the reins of the business. She’d done the work, and she had the bumps, the bruises, and the calluses to prove it. “Yippee!” she shouted to the reflection in the mirror.
“Time to run, Buddy. We can’t rest on our glory just yet.”
She was running fifteen miles a day, biking for another five, then paddling up and down the river. Five days a week.
Could she win the triathlon? She thought so, but she wasn’t sure. Most of the people who had entered worked out at the gym. According to Jack, she was one of only four or five who did their training outdoors. The others ran on treadmills, rode the stationary bike, and rowed on the rowing machine. The odds, he’d said, were in her favor since she was doing her training theright way. Then he’d said something that made her double over laughing. “Those guys aren’t going to know what hit them when you take off.” He’d beamed with pride at her accomplishments.
How she loved him. She’d skimmed all the sappy romance books, all the slick magazines, and what she’d read couldn’t hold a candle to what she had with Jack. Jack was real. He was warm, honest, caring, compassionate, and said he loved her so much he ached with the feeling. Real words, honest words that he acted on.
The only bone of contention, if it was a bone of contention, between them was the Wonderball ticket. When she brought it up, a veil would drop over Jack’s face. He absolutely refused to discuss it. It was the only negative between them.
As she ran, her mind raced. Due to the triathlon, they were having Thanksgiving dinner out at the River Road house since the foot race was the last event in the triathlon. Jack’s father and uncle were doing the cooking and everyone who participated in the event was invited. Even the seniors and Vickie. She’d just sent Luna Mae a special invitation. Each night since she’d mailed it, she prayed that her housekeeper would return. They all had so much to be thankful for. She’d included the faceless Curly in the invitation. She crossed her fingers that Luna Mae would come to cheer her on.
“I’m going to win, Buddy! I really am!”
Vickie Winters gaped at the man getting out of the car in the driveway of the old Simmons mansion. Kent Bliss was the last person she expected to see on this dreary, rainy day. Her first thought was that he looked awful. Her second thought was that he was trying to do something about it. He looked thinner, and yet more muscular, like he’d been working out. Whatdid he want? She waited expectantly as he knocked on the door and one of the seniors let him in. When he walked over to where she was standing, she said, “Rosie isn’t here.”
“I didn’t think she would be. I came here to talk to you, Vickie.”
Vickie crossed her arms over her chest. Body language that said, stay away from me and make it quick.
“I’d like it if you would arrange a meeting between me and Rosalie. You can be there if you like. I need to talk to her.”
“About what?”
“Several things. Personal things. Look, I’m not looking for trouble. All I want to do is talk to her.” He advanced a step and held out a card. “This is my cell phone number. Have her call me if she’s agreeable.”
“What if she doesn’t want to see or talk to you? You’re such a louse, Kent. Why are you doing this? Didn’t you do enough to her in those three years? Why do you have to shove yourself at her like this? She’s doing just fine these days without you.”
“The question remains, will you ask Rosalie?”
“That’s another thing, Kent. Why do you call Rosie Rosalie? No one else does. Not that I really care. I will tell her, but don’t expect me to endorse the idea.”
“All right, that’s fair. The reason I call my soon-to-be-ex-wife Rosalie is because when I was growing up, our neighbors had a vicious pit bull named Rosie. It bit me when I was five years old. I had to have sixty-seven stitches. I almost lost my arm.”
Vickie watched as Kent walked back to his car, her thoughts chaotic. Rosie was so happy these days. It sounded corny to say she was fulfilled, but that’s exactly what she was. Talking to Kent might throw her into a tizzy, but Vickie had no right to ignore Kent’s request. It would have to be Rosie’s decision. If she didn’t want to talk to him, she wouldn’t talk. It was that simple. Still, Vickie stewed and fretted all afternoon until she walked over to Rosie’s house after she dropped the seniors off.
Rosie was standing at th
e kitchen sink rubbing cocoa butter into the palms of her hands. She turned when she noticed Vickie standing in the doorway. “You scared me, Vic! What are you doing here? Want some coffee? I just made it.”
“Nah, I’mcoffeed out. The seniors drink it by the gallon, and they drink it black. Must be all that magnetic energy or something. Listen, Rosie, Kent stopped by and asked me if I would ask you to call him. Here’s his card with his cell phone number on it. He told me something today I never knew. I asked him why he always called you Rosalie, and he said when he was five years old, a neighbor’s vicious pit bull named Rosie bit him. He had to have sixty-seven stitches and almost lost his arm. Did you know that?”
“No.” Rosie continued to rub the cocoa butter into the palms of her hands. “Did he say what he wanted to talk about?”
“No, just that it was personal. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”
“I know that. I can handle talking to Kent these days. Listen, Vic, I had this dream early this morning. Maybe I had it because I’ve been thinking so much about that damn Wonderball ticket. When I’m running, biking, or paddling, I think about it. I’ve just about made up my mind to turn it in and give him his half. I just want to get rid of it. I don’t care about the money, I never did. I’ve tried to talk to Jack about it, but he won’t say one word. I’m taking that to mean he disapproves of the whole ugly drama that’s sprung up around the ticket.
“This is what I’ve been thinking. I turn it in, give you and Luna Mae a really nice nest egg so that you never have to worry about your kids’ futures. I’d keep a good amount to secure my own kids’ futures in case I ever have kids. Then, I’d give the rest away to all kinds of charities. You know, the seniors, women’s shelters, animals, children. Then there’s Bobby. I promised to pay for his education, and I will honor that promise.
“I just can’t see myself handing over that much money to Kent. He’ll go public, I’ll get all this unwanted notoriety that he will thrive on. I’m trying to find a way to share it with him without actually giving it to him. I know that doesn’t make sense. Something like a trust that would give him so much a year to live comfortably on.”
Pretty Woman Page 25
