by Jody Kaye
“You do a good job of caring for her. You’re learning a lot.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to feel needed, useful. Have something to look forward to that breaks up the day.”
“You look forward to that big shovel?”
“No.” There was a little lilt to her voice. “But someone’s gotta do it.”
Rose opened her door, excusing herself from the conversation and awkwardness that would arise when they went to their separate apartments. Getting the nerve to apologize was the scary part. She’d have found a way to get out of it if she hadn’t done it right away. If they parted ways this morning Ross wouldn’t put up with her until she did. It was like Lil and Rodger gave him instructions on what to let Rose get away with.
“Rose?”
“Yeah.”
“When you’re finished with Lavender… Or if you want some help with her… I’ve never asked because it wasn’t my business.”
“Oh, Ross!” she gasped, shaking her head. “I don’t want to relive any of that!” It was too awful that he wanted the details she was trying in desperation to lock away and move on from.
He grabbed her hand. She shrunk back, but Ross held firm. “No. You tell me that if, and when, you’re ready.”
Ross felt her relax and continued, “I want to know what you do when I’m not home, er, here. At Kingsbrier.”
“That’s not something that requires a whole conversation. I don’t do anything, Ross.”
“Then perhaps it’s time to fix that.”
Rose licked her fingers and flipped through the stack of mail she’d picked up from Cavanaugh’s post office box on her way home from Richardson’s Market. She tore into the first envelope as Ross came in the door of his apartment.
“What’s that?” he inquired, tossing his keys and empty lunch pail on the counter.
“A note from the bank.” She cocked her head and closed an eye. “Congratulating you on your loan approval and listing the terms of repayment? You got a loan,” she deadpanned.
“I got some great advice and I applied last month for short-term financing to offset start-up cost on the new development.”
He smiled, his nose scrunched up, the summer freckling was now a light smatter across the bridge. Rose knew by his mannerisms that he hadn’t tried to hide it from her although his next comments made her sigh in relief.
“Signed, sealed and I guess this means delivered. I thought we’d celebrate.” He held up a bottle of wine she hadn’t seen him holding. “We’re going to start clearing trees in the next few weeks so that we’re ready to begin development in the spring.”
“You didn’t tell me!” She squealed, hugging him.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, Rose. You’ve been so busy with the accounting it’s been hard to keep the invoices from you. There’s a whole binder of stuff that I’ve kept for the ledger.”
“Why? You’d never even said you got the land. WHEN DID YOU GET THE LAND!” she shouted jumping up and down and crumpling the loan notification. With a silly grin, she tried flattening it back out. “I’m so excited for you!”
“The auction was when things had gone south, sugar. At first, I didn’t want you to think I was throwing my success in your face. Then I stayed silent during the loan approval process because… Well, I wanted to show you that I’d gone through with it anyway.” It had been hard to keep everything from her. “I had to distract you a few times with Rodger and Lil’s wedding plans or ask about Lavender when you got too close to finding out. What?” He paused as she looked thoughtful.
“I’m proud of you, Ross. Not because you took my advice, but that you believed in Cavanaugh enough to seek out investors.”
“I can’t not believe in my own company.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” she said as if it were the most philosophical statement she’d heard. And in true Rose form, her attitude changed on a dime as she began dancing in place and babbling excitedly.
She was becoming herself again. There were still rough nights when Rose climbed up next to him to snuggle on the couch after dinner seeking reassurance. Ross held her and rubbed her back never asking for more. There were times, though; when she sent him off to work with a full lunch pail, or they cooked, when she helped with a project or beamed over Cavanaugh’s books—which he’d asked her to keep after finding out how little Rose did have to occupy her time—that things between them were more than friendly. Ross dared not use the word “married”. Rose slept in her apartment and he in his. But they were a couple by some insane stretch of the imagination.
“Are we going to open this wine or not?”
“No.” She stopped and pointed at the clock.
“What am I missing?”
“You may be home early, but I still have chores. Lavender’s stall needs to be mucked and, oh! She’s only got enough oats left for the week. I did get more carrots at Richardsons’.” She waved leafy greens in his face.
Ross offered to help so that they got to the wine and dinner earlier.
He picked up the shovel in the barn and began scooping into a wheelbarrow. “How’d I get stuck with this?”
Rose side-stepped a pile for him to get at and continued brushing. “Because you’re sweet as pie.”
“Yeah, a cow pie.” Ross mock grumbled.
“Wanna switch?”
She held out the brush. He took it and she lobbed the other offending piles into the cart, wheeling it out and returning to lay fresh hay.
Ross waited for Rose to get comfortable in her spot beside him. It was Thanksgiving and they had an hour’s drive to his parent’s house. She had on a blue dress and her blonde hair cascaded in soft curls over her shoulder. He’d donned a pair of Dockers and, by coincidence, pressed a shirt of the same color for the occasion.
“They’ll think we planned it,” she said.
“Maybe we’ve rubbed off on one another,” he replied. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Rose pulled her handbag closer, covering her lap. “So do you. I wouldn’t have minded staying home today. Eric’s travel schedule never accommodates a holiday except Christmas when the whole world shuts down. I got used to it,” she babbled on in the cutest way explaining the fun she tried to make with the cook as a child. “Some years for Thanksgiving I go to Rodger’s but my aunt and Lil are so busy right now. Where we’ll see them on Friday I didn’t want to put anyone out. Anyway, I appreciate your family allowing me to barge in on their event.”
Obliged to her kindness, Ross tipped his head the way he did when he wore a Stetson.
They strayed further from Kingsbrier and Ross felt compelled to admit, “So, ah. When I called my folks,” His hands brushed the back of his neck and he steered the wheel with his wrist. “The thing is, Rose. I said we were married.” His second hand returned to the wheel and he steered to avoid a pothole.
“Why’d you do that?” Rose shrieked.
It was the same question Ross had asked himself since revealing to his family that he’d eloped. He hated to admit to himself that if his family saw how much Rose meant to him then she’d be less inclined to leave. It was dumb, but there was truth in it. He’d tell Rose that he wanted to stay married and try living like husband and wife if he thought for a moment that she’d matured enough to handle that. However, whenever the subject came up, she assured him that he wouldn’t be stuck married to her for long and she did it in a way that made it seem like she was anxious for it to end.
“And you told them who I was?”
“I said I’d married a woman named Rose.”
“You could’ve said I was your friend, your girlfriend, but your wife!”
“Why lie about it?”
“Why lie about it? Why not lie about it is what I’m getting at?” They’d colluded so that none was the wiser and yet Ross felt compelled to be honest about who he was bringing home for the holiday.
“As far as my family’s concerned you’re Rose, my wife. Fill in the blanks by telling them as little or as m
uch else as you want. I’ve seen you in action. You can work this to your advantage.”
Ross rubbed his jaw. He couldn’t fathom lying to his family. Omitting her last name from the conversation with his parents was tough enough. Ross was already contending with all the feelings he had for Rose that he kept locked up. They were spending so much time together that he now worried that he’d become blind to the Rose who grew up in that mansion and forged her father’s signature. He could make excuses, and see her point that she’d done her best for Benita, but that was what they were; excuses. Impetuous Rose was still somewhere inside the pretty girl at his side. When this phase was over, she’d again unleash that wild child.
Her mouth agape, Rose looked at Ross as if he were the stupidest man alive.
He was.
Ross was about to introduce Rose to his parents. Let them get attached to her and then admit in the coming months that it was all a sham. But now he had bigger fish to fry because his Grandy couldn’t wait to meet his new wife and Ross didn’t want to disappoint the old woman.
“I knew. By the look in that boy’s eyes, I just knew you’d be simply beautiful. Oh, dear, please come sit right here with me. I’m so thrilled to meet you. Ross’s love. I lived to see the day!” Grandy patted the space on the couch next to her. “Thrilled,” she repeated with southern charm that made her instantly lovable.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Ross speaks so highly of you.”
“I’m Grandy,” she pished, clasping Rose’s hands in her own. “Never call me anythin’ else. Take the moniker for yourself.”
“She likes ‘just Rose’,” Ross quipped. For an instant, he looked like he’d take it all back. Everything, including their trip to Louisiana.
Rose shook herself but quickly became distracted by the mouse-sized woman.
“Then we’ll leave Mrs. Cavanaugh for your mother, Mister Smart Mouth. Get over here too and kiss Grandy.” He did as he was told. “I knew,” she continued to say. “Ross came for the bed. It was mine, you know. Mine and his grandaddy’s.” A sly look crossed the old lady’s face that made Rose giggle. “Oh, you know. I know you know! I’ll be leavin’ that right there though since that blush means you understand that I might know a thing or two about what newlyweds be doin’ in that bed.” Grandy winked.
“Grandy, you be a good girl and let Rose be!”
“I’m old enough to know that being good is highly overrated.” Grandy squawked back to Ross’s mother, now hidden behind the kitchen wall, finishing meal preparations. “She doesn’t like to remember I know anything about young lovers, but I do… Mark my words; she’ll recall her youth someday too.”
Rose was certain she knew how the rest of the afternoon was about to go. Grandy was entertaining and the way she spoke her mind was endearing, although a little embarrassing. At least Rose was sure by the way Grandy talked back to Ross’s mom that everyone was at Grandy’s mercy. The older woman wasn’t singling Rose out.
“You have to tell me all about the wedding dear. I need to know how my grandson convinced you to elope! Is he not the most romantic? His granddaddy was the same way. His daddy too. They got that good gene. He was a gentleman when he asked? ”
“Of course. I, um.” Rose’s shoulders hit her ears. “There’s not much to it. Us. A judge. No flowers…” Rose’s voice trailed.
Grandy scowled across the room at Ross as if he were a disappointment to her.
“Small is still good. The Kingdom of Heaven’s like the grain of a mustard seed.” Grandy pointed a finger at nothing in particular. “Man took it and sewed it in his field. It’s smaller than any seed…”
“But when it is grown, it is greater than the herbs, and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in its branches. Matthew,” Rose closed an eye to think. “Verse thirteen?”
“My good girl. Yes, I forget sometimes. I wish you that with my grandson. Strong, deep roots and the presence of mind to offer your branches to embrace those around you. So many are in need and will not tell you. Look beyond their pride and show them the love God knows they deserve.”
“Lord, Mother,” Ross’s father heckled as he passed through the room. “when you go from the verge of asking Rose when we’ll see some grandchildren to quoting scripture, it makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have you committed.”
“Genesis nine, verse seven: be ye fruitful and multiply!” Grandy shot back. She patted Rose’s hand. “You don’t think I’m a loon.”
“Not at all. This has actually been a more enjoyable afternoon than I’d imagined.” Rose’s eyes fell on the glittering ring on Grandy’s right hand. “That's a lovely setting.”
“Oh, yes, dear, I saw it and just had to have it. It's not real, though,” she said, placing her hand to the side of her face and whispering. “Cubic zirconia.” Grandy’s hand dropped and the cadence of her voice resumed a normal level. “It doesn't matter one bit. My late husband, God rest his soul, knew how much I loved it and surprised me with it the last Christmas we were together. I haven’t taken it off since.”
“It means that much to you?”
“It does. When you get to be as old as I am you’ll understand that it isn’t the monetary value of a gift that means something. It’s the thought someone puts into giving the gift. This ring could turn my finger the same color as my grandson’s eyes and I’d still cherish it because of who gave it to me and how happy he was trying to make me. I polish it every day. Makes me feel close to him still. Like praying.”
“Show me yours.”
“Oh, I, ah …Um. We didn’t exchange rings. Things happened so. Fast.” Rose stumbled to get the words out.
“Try mine on then, dear.”
“But you said that you’ve worn it all these years?”
Rose shrunk back, toying with a lock of her hair. She felt her teeth sink into the flesh inside her mouth.
“Correct. There’s always a first time. Besides, it’ll put a smile on my face.”
“You haven’t stopped smiling since you found out the boy got married, Grandy.” Ross’s mother interjected.
“I have so little time left why waste it frowning?” she responded with a wheezing chuckle. “Here.” Grandy slid the ring over her gnarled knuckle. A white indent was left. She took Rose’s hand and pushed her ring up onto Rose’s finger, grumbling that it was what Ross should’ve done.
Rose quietly admired it. She would’ve liked a wedding band. Something simple that showed she belonged to someone.
No. Not someone. Ross. She belonged to Ross. With Ross. Forever. But their charade wasn’t supposed to go as far as revealing it to his family. He understood it was a bargaining chip and a business deal sealed with a kiss so innocent that weeks later Rose couldn’t recall the way his lips felt against hers that afternoon. Her mind returned to the sizzling kiss in the truck.
Grandy hummed, lifting the corner of her wonky painted-on eyebrow. “Just the right size. You keep it.”
“I can’t,” Rose balked.
“There’s a big difference between can’t and won’t, dear.”
“I won’t keep something so precious to you. You should continue enjoying the memories it brings.”
Rose tried to take it off but Grandy squeezed Rose’s fist closed.
“I know it’s not much, but our Ross didn’t even get you a band,” she tisked. “Don’t offend an old woman. As long as I’m living, I’ll make sure Ross does right by you.”
“I’ll keep it safe for the afternoon.”
“So you do understand the value of things.”
“Yes, ma’am. I suppose I do. In this instance anyway.”
Later, when they were seated around the modest table piled high with carved turkey, Rose had a hard time taking her focus off of the way the bauble glittered on her ring finger.
“I’m just so glad that Ross found someplace to stay before the winter weather hits. How big is your apartment, Rose?”
“One bedroom, ” she replied as Ross
said, “two.”
He cleared his throat. “It’s big enough for the two of us.”
“That’s nice.” Ross’s mother put down her glass, steepling her fingers. “I’m sorry, Rose, it’s only you… You look awfully familiar. Have we met before?”
“I don’t believe so, momma,” Ross interjected. “Rose was away at college most of the last few years and lives far from here.”
“Near that Kingsbury property you remodeled, Ross?”
“That’s Kingsbrier, Grandy.” Ross’s mother corrected.
“Kingsbury, Kingsbrier? I don’t see what difference it makes.” She winked at Rose, who choked on the water she was sipping.
“Why did you tell your family that we got married?” Rose asked again during the drive home.
“You’re a good person. I’m not ashamed of you, Rose.”
“Because you wed a Kingsbrier?”
“I’m not sure that it has anything to do with the wedding at all. There’s a satisfaction in watching you work and coming home to a good meal. I appreciate the things you do for me.” For us.
“You think I’m doing a good job at Cavanaugh?”
“My balance sheet sure does.”
“That’s a foundation you laid… I think Grandy knows who I am.” She slid in.
“I may have let on months back that Rose Kingsbrier was a friend.”
“Is she still?” Or do you feel more for her? For me?
“Yeah, funny come to think of it Rose Kingsbrier is my closest friend.”
“Are you proud of that?”
“Proud? No. I don’t think that’s the right word.”
“Oh.”
“Ineffable; there’s not a word big enough to describe you.”
“Is that a compliment?” her eyebrow arched in challenge.
“It is.” I love you.
Rose smiled, realigning the subject. “When we left your grandmother asked me to take you to church on Sunday. She says she worries about your soul. I told her that I’m not the best choice for making sure someone gets saved.” Grandy preached that Rose’s job was to bring him to church since Jesus is the savior. “And then she went back to humming a tune that was half Amazing Grace and half One Day at a Time.”
