ROSA SMILED WHEN she saw Charlie walk through the door of the hall, but the smile froze in place when she saw Aaron following closely behind him.
‘What is it, dear?’ Doreen asked worriedly when she turned back to Rosa with an outstretched hand that Rosa was meant to supply with a cup of hot water.
‘Nothing,’ she said, and quickly turned to pour the hot water from the dispenser. She cursed quietly when she saw her hand shaking and told herself to stay steady when she turned back to Doreen. ‘Sorry about that,’ she murmured, and kept her eyes on the woman who was now making tea for a customer.
After Charlie had left, Rosa had wondered around aimlessly until deciding that her mind would be put to better use if she was working. So she’d asked Doreen if she could help, and had been doing so for the last twenty minutes.
But suddenly working with hot liquids didn’t seem like such a great idea.
‘Charles, you’re back,’ Doreen exclaimed, and Rosa was forced to look up and into her husband’s eyes.
They were steady as they met hers, as if he hadn’t an hour ago told her he’d be filing their divorce papers when he got home.
‘I didn’t realise you were picking up my phone and my husband, Charlie,’ Rosa said, pleased with how calm she sounded.
‘Your husband?’ Doreen exclaimed—the woman really only seemed to have one way of speaking. ‘I thought you were here with our Charles.’
‘No, Doreen,’ Charlie interrupted quickly. ‘We’re not here together. I actually invited Rosa and her husband, Aaron, to come here this evening when I was on a call to their house.’
‘Which house is that?’
‘The Spencer property off Main.’
‘You’re Liana Spencer’s son?’ Doreen asked, her voice raised even higher.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Aaron replied with a nod.
‘Why, son, let me give you a hug.’ Doreen walked around the table and made good on her word. Rosa’s lips twitched. Her husband didn’t feel comfortable with public displays of affection, let alone displays with strangers. It was kind of adorable to watch.
The older woman’s head barely reached Aaron’s chest and she gave him an unexpectedly tight squeeze. Rosa hadn’t imagined the woman’s body had had the strength to give it.
‘Thank you,’ Aaron said when Doreen pulled back, and Rosa didn’t bother trying to hide her smile.
‘No, dear, that was me saying thank you to you.’ Doreen dug into the front of her apron and pulled out a crumpled tissue which she pressed to her face. ‘Your mother let me and my boys—all three of them, and their wives and my seven grandkids—stay in that house for a month after the place we’d all been staying in burnt down.’
‘That was the Spencer place?’ Charlie asked now, interest alight on his face. ‘Yeah, I remember. I’d forgotten about it.’
‘We didn’t have any money to spend on staying somewhere else, and we lost everything in that fire. The insurance was giving us a hard time—’ Doreen cut off, sniffled. ‘And then one day, out of the blue while I was talking to someone in the grocery store, your mom came by and told me she’d heard what had happened and that we could stay in her house until we found something else.’
‘Where did she go?’ Aaron asked after a moment.
‘Not sure. She was gone by the time we got there, and she didn’t once check in with us.’ Doreen pressed the tissue under both eyes before stuffing it back into her apron. ‘Of course, that didn’t mean we took advantage. I made sure that house stayed spick and span. And that nothing broke, even though all the grandkids are under ten.’
Aaron’s eye twitched. ‘I appreciate that, ma’am.’
‘Your mother is a good woman, boy.’ Doreen reached up and patted Aaron’s cheek. ‘Now, if you want anything from me or my boys, you can have it for free. Make sure they know it’s you and that I told you that, and they won’t give you any trouble.’ She cocked her head. ‘They’re good boys too.’
* * *
The only thing Aaron had wanted to hear less than an old woman telling him she’d thought Sergeant Downing and Rosa were on a date was that his mother was a good person.
‘Bet you didn’t expect that,’ Rosa said when they finally managed to escape the woman. The sergeant had wisely found someone else to engage with.
‘No.’ He led them to a less populated area in the corner of the hall. ‘You seem to be having a good time here.’
‘It’s been okay.’ They took two empty seats and, for the first time, Aaron noticed she wasn’t wearing his shirt.
‘You’ve changed your clothes.’
She looked down. Immediately colour spread over her cheeks. ‘I...yes.’
‘The shirt?’
‘Is in the car.’
‘I thought you didn’t have anything else to wear?’
She shrugged, which would have annoyed him if he hadn’t already known that she’d had something else to wear. And maybe that was part of the reason he’d decided to accompany Sergeant Downing. Because she’d seemed to...want something of him.
Though the tinge of jealousy at Sergeant Downing’s words and the panic that had risen with the D-word had contributed to his decision too.
‘You know that’s technically not my shirt.’ She made a non-committal noise. He almost smiled. ‘So you stole it for nothing.’
‘I didn’t steal it.’ She looked over at him and something on his face made her roll her eyes. ‘You’re teasing me.’
‘I’m asking.’
‘I didn’t steal it,’ she said again. ‘I...kept it. As a memento.’
‘Of what?’
‘This weekend.’
‘It’s been terrible.’
She laughed. That sound had always weakened something inside him. And he realised that she hadn’t laughed nearly as much as he’d have liked since they’d been on the island.
‘You’re right,’ she answered. ‘But... If this was going to be the last time you and I spend any time together, I wanted to remember it.’
‘Even if it was terrible?’
‘Even if it was terrible.’
‘Why?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Because it hasn’t always been terrible,’ she replied, surprising him with her answer. ‘We were happy.’
‘Yeah, we were.’
‘The way things ended,’ she said suddenly, her eyes meeting his. The emotion there stole his breath. ‘It had nothing to do with the way things were, okay?’
‘I’m not sure I can believe that.’
‘You have to.’ She reached out, took his hand. ‘I told you. All of it... It’s my fault. I’m the reason things ended badly. Me. It has nothing to do with you.’
‘You felt like you had to leave.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘It is to me.’
He turned his hand over so that their fingers intertwined.
‘I know you see things in black and white.’ Her gaze was on their hands. ‘If something went wrong between us, it’s because someone did something wrong. But...that isn’t what happened here.’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But you said it was a mistake marrying me.’
‘Only because I shouldn’t have put you in this position in the first place.’
‘This is—was—a marriage, Rosa. You didn’t put me in any position. I chose to be here. We both did.’
‘But I shouldn’t have.’ Her words were soft. Insistent. ‘You deserve more than this. You deserve more than me.’
His grip tightened on hers as surprise fluttered through him. ‘That’s not true.’
‘It is.’
She blinked and stared ahead at the crowds of people, though he didn’t think she saw any of them. And suddenly he thought how strange it was that they were sitting here, in the corner of a hall in a small town, surrounded by strangers, having the kind of conciliatory discussion they hadn’t been able to have when they’d been alone.
‘I might turn out just like her, Aaron.’ She said it so softly he thought he’d imagined the words. ‘I might turn out to be exactly like my mother.’
‘You won’t.’
She turned to him, the smile on her lips unbearably sad. ‘You don’t know that. The cancer scare...it could be the first of many. Or it could lead to actual cancer.’
‘Because she had it?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘And because I refused to take the test to screen for it after she died.’
Silence slithered between them. He wanted to break it. To keep the momentum of their conversation—her honesty—going. But his mind was still processing what she’d said. He couldn’t think what to say to keep the silence from choking them.
He saw her more clearly now. Understood the extent of the terror she must have gone through. The blame she’d taken on herself. Her cancer scare took on a deeper meaning. Again, he wished he could have been there. Didn’t understand why she hadn’t turned to him.
‘Why did you refuse?’
She lifted her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure.’
But he could see that that was a lie. She knew why she hadn’t taken that test. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it. Pain drenched his heart.
‘Did your mother ever see someone about...’ He trailed off, unsure of whether she’d answer. But she didn’t seem to mind.
‘Sometimes. When it got really bad I’d be able to talk her into seeing a psychologist.’
‘Did it help?’
‘For as long as she went.’ She paused. ‘But when she got to that point—when she actually decided to go—it had already got so bad that she had no choice but to acknowledge something was wrong.’ She wrapped one arm around herself, held her chin up with the other. ‘The therapy would help, then she wouldn’t experience such intense symptoms for long enough that she could convince herself that she was fine.’ Her eyes met his. ‘It was a vicious cycle.’
He nodded. ‘And you...?’
‘Have I seen someone?’ She laughed dryly and dropped the hand at her chin. ‘No. That would entail admitting something was wrong.’ The laughter sobered. ‘No, I’m too much like my mother to let that happen.’
‘You’ve already told me,’ he reminded her softly.
‘Only because I wanted you to know that none of this—’ she waved a hand between them ‘—is because of you. And, trust me, it was hard enough telling you.’
He knew it had been. Which was why it meant so much to him. Even if there were some things she was still keeping from him.
Hope began to bandage some of the pieces of his heart together again. Perhaps foolishly. But his black and white view of things told him that they’d identified the problem. And, since they had, maybe they could find the solution...
‘We should probably stop being so antisocial,’ he said suddenly.
She blinked. ‘What?’
‘Let’s go talk to your friend.’ He stood, held out a hand to help her up.
‘My friend—Charlie?’ He nodded, and was proud that he managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. ‘Why?’
‘Because when I walked in here you looked happy to see him.’
She gave him a strange look, but took his hand and stood. ‘You’re not going to try and get on his good side and then beat him up, are you?’
He smiled. ‘No.’ Though that wasn’t a bad idea.
‘I’m not sure I trust this change in attitude.’
‘You should,’ he said, serious now. ‘You need happy. If happy means you talk to a man and the old woman who believes that the two of you should be together, then that’s what we’ll do.’
She stared at him and then a smile crinkled her eyes. It hit him as hard as her laugh had. More, when she reached a hand up to his cheek and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his lips.
‘I knew I didn’t deserve you,’ she said softly, the smile fading. And then she took his hand. ‘Come on. Let me introduce you to some new friends.’