Accidental Love

Rose Grayson zipped up the front of her dark blue sweat jacket and pulled the hood down over her head. The string that normally would have kept it in place had been removed long before she purchased it from the thrift store. She had no doubt that the first gust of the biting cold wind would push it off her head but for the moment, it was the best she could do. She looked out into the brightly lit parking lot of Money Slasher, the large supermarket that she worked at part time. She had been hoping to be full time by now but with the economy the way it was, full time jobs were hard to come by. The crazy hours they assigned her made it impossible to get another part time job to fill in the gaps and Rose couldn’t take the chance on quitting. It had taken weeks of applying to stores all over Albany just to get this job.

As the weathermen had predicted, the small flakes that had been falling when she started her shift was now a full blown blizzard and a good foot of snow had fallen with no end in sight. Rose looked down at her threadbare sneakers and groaned. This was the worst part about taking a job two miles from her apartment. The long walk home guaranteed that her feet would be frozen, not to mention the rest of her body. Sometimes she was lucky enough to get a ride from Kim, the store manager, but not tonight. Kim got off duty an hour ago and there was no way Rose would ask her to wait. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her reddish blond hair into the hood, bent forward, and stepped out into the unforgiving elements.

Veronica Cartwright glanced at her diamond studded watch for the tenth time in an hour. Of all the miserable nights to have to make an appearance at Sam’s, the oyster house that doubled as the social gathering place for Albany’s rich and powerful. On any given night one could go there and see the Governor, State Senators, and common folk who wanted to spend a hundred bucks on dinner. The maitre’ de knew who was who and seated them accordingly. Never would someone like Veronica, who headed up one of the largest family owned corporations in the area, be seated near someone who didn’t even own their own home. Veronica never liked to go there, despite the world-renowned cuisine. Tonight, however, she had little choice. Mark Grace, the Zoning Board of Appeals Commissioner, was fighting a zoning change request and it was up to her to smooth his ruffled feathers and get that variance pushed through. Her cousins ran a small offshoot of the family corporation, Cartwright Car Washes. It was small in terms of the revenue it brought to the family, but huge in the eyes of the public, especially with the thirty car washes scattered about the area and the numerous television ads. “Get your car washed right at Cartwrights” was a hugely successful slogan and made the long time financial barons’ family name a household word. John and Frank, the cousins in charge of the car washes, wanted to build a new one on the corner of Lake and State Streets. It was a prime location in a predominantly residential area. They even went so far as to buy out the corner store that had previously been there and the adjacent houses in hopes of getting the variance. Now Commissioner Grace was questioning the destruction of three of Albany’s “grand old buildings” in order to put up another “stupid car wash”. Meetings and negotiations didn’t work, offers of great civic donations didn’t work, even outright bribes failed. When the brothers had exhausted all their ideas and still were unable to sway him, it was up to Veronica to set things right. The Commissioner jumped at the opportunity to meet with one of the city’s most eligible women and insisted on dinner that evening.

So as a result she had to leave her fine home in the middle of one of the worst blizzards to hit the city in years to wine and dine the Commissioner into giving them the variance. It was a part of doing business and Veronica was used to it. The only problem was that Grace wanted more than goodwill from the raven haired beauty who ran Cartwright Corporation. Because of his insistence that they meet that evening, there had been no chance to make reservations. For almost anyone else, it would have meant not getting into the prestigious oyster house. But for Veronica, the maitre’ de placed them in the bar while desperate attempts were made to find a place for the President of Cartwright Corporation and her guest. During the wait, the blue eyed woman suffered having to listen to the whiny little snipe of a man tell her all about his degrees and how smart he was and how she should really consider spending more time with him. The only good point of the evening had been the waiter’s constant refilling of her wine glass with the finest of vintages. At least she had been able to enjoy a good buzz while listening to him drone on.

Now an hour and a half later, they were seated at their table, dinner having been served just a few minutes before. “So Veronica…you know that’s such a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty lady,” Mark reached over with his fork to take a piece of baked lobster from her plate. “I don’t understand why you feel that an area with such class and beauty needs a car wash. Can you imagine all the traffic that’ll go through there? Interrupting people while they’re sleeping, disturbing them with all the loud noises those machines make.” His fork found another piece of lobster, the remainder of the tail. “Surely you wouldn’t want one of those right next door to you, now would you?”

Blue eyes glared at the best part of her lobster making its way into someone else’s mouth. She had been polite and pleasant all evening and now it was time to teach the little man a lesson. She dabbed her lips with the linen napkin. “The car wash is only open from eight in the morning until ten at night. I’m sure no one’s sleep will be disturbed and if you filch one more piece of food off my plate I’m going to stab your hand with this fork, do I make myself clear?” she said evenly while raising the wine glass to her lips. “Now you and I both know that those streets see plenty of traffic as it is, the residents like the idea of a car wash coming to their area, and it also means ten more jobs to the community. What do you think will happen in the next election if we support the Democrat and give him this little piece of information? What good would your appointment do if the new mayor decides to clean house?”

“Now you’re just blowing smoke, Miss Cartwright,” he said, sitting back and lighting up a cigarette. Smoking of course was prohibited in that section of the restaurant but Mark believed his position to put him above what he considered to be a silly law. “The Cartwrights have always supported the Republicans, everyone knows that.” He took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke tickling Veronica’s nose.

“Really?” she drained her glass and set it down on the linen covered table, suppressing a grin at the thought of the bomb she was about to lay on the hapless Commissioner. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Grace. The Cartwrights have financed more than one Democrat over the years and now that I’m in charge, there’ll be plenty more as time goes on.” Her blue eyes bore into his as she leaned forward and took the cigarette out of his hand, sinking it deep into his stuffed crab.

“This variance means nothing to me except getting my cousins off my back. Your position means nothing to me. I’d spend a hundred thousand on the next election if it meant getting you out of office and putting in someone who sees jobs as being more important than power plays so you need to make a decision. You can be the good guy who brings ten jobs to the area or you can be the idiot who gets voted out of office, the decision is yours.” Veronica had already made up her mind that there would soon be a new Commissioner. “I do believe this meeting is over. I hoped you enjoyed my dinner.” At his startled look she added “What? Did you think you were going to get lucky tonight, Mr. Grace?” Her eyes gave him a quick once over. “I’m sorry. I don’t sleep with dogs. You never know when they might have fleas.” She picked up her attache and strode out, leaving the fuming but cornered commissioner with nothing but a hard on and the check.

Rose crossed the street and entered Washington Park, a mammoth place of greenery in the middle of the city. The park was closed at dusk each night because of the crime and cruising that went on there. Normally Rose would go around but that meant an extra six blocks out of her way and with the howling wind and bitter cold, the most direct route home was needed. In the five block walk from the supermarket to the edge of the park, Rose’s ears were beet red from the cold and her nose had already started to run. She couldn’t feel her toes and the pockets of her sweat jacket did nothing to protect her fingers. Deciding from the lack of prints in the snow and the sub-zero temperature that it was safe, Rose trudged along past the huge statue of Moses that marked the entrance and the snow covered sign that warned against being in the park at night. The fierce wind refused to let her keep her hood on and her shoulder length hair flapped loosely about her face. Her body shivered fiercely and all she could think of was getting home and sinking into a nice hot bath. She was halfway through the park and within sight of Madison Avenue when she heard them approaching, their quick footfalls crunching the snow under their feet. “Well well well, what do we have here?” She turned her head to see four men rapidly approaching her, now quite running but certainly walking very fast.

“Come on honey, we’ve got something for ya.”

“Yeah, why don’t you come party with us?”

The deep cold made her legs feel like lead but the idea of being caught out in the middle of the dark park by the four men put new life in her steps. She tried ignoring them and continuing on her way but men continued to follow her. “Come’on bitch, let Danny have some fun,” the closest one said, causing Rose’s heart to start pounding painfully in her chest. She had to get out of there and had to get out of there now. She began running, more like stumbling, through the snow and toward the bright lights of Madison Avenue.

Veronica breezed through the lights of the sleeping city, mindless of the way the Porsche slipped around in the snow. It wasn’t like anyone else was around at the late hour. She passed Lark Street without meaning to and cursed loudly. Now she’d have to go all the way past the park to catch the next cross street. Seeing no cars in front of her, she punched the pedal of her Porsche 911 and threw it into second gear. She was going far too fast for the snow covered street, especially since it didn’t look like the plows had been through any time recently, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she had to stop anytime soon and she was still under the posted limit, although definitely faster than the road conditions dictated. The next cross street was at least a half mile away. Suddenly a flash of blue and gold appeared in front of her, a figure darting out from between parked cars. Veronica jammed both feet on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel hard to the left but there was just no time. The snow gave her no traction and an eerie silence filled the air as she watched the low front of the Porsche strike the pedestrian and throw the helpless person up onto the windshield. The red sports car finally came to a halt several car lengths later and the broken body slumped off the hood onto the snow covered ground. For several seconds Veronica could do nothing but grip the steering wheel and stare at the spider web pattern that now made up her windshield while her heart pounded mercilessly. The reality of what had happened finally sunk in and with shaking hands she opened the door. She looked around quickly for any witnesses but at 12:30 on a Tuesday night everyone was in bed. She never saw the gang of thugs that had been chasing the victim turn around and slink back into the darkness of the park.

Blood was already beginning to pool on the ground beneath the body, although the extreme cold made the flow far less than it would normally have been. Veronica knelt down beside the crumpled form and with her gloved hand rolled the victim over. She gasped when she saw the battered face of a young woman. “Oh my god.” A flash of green just on the edge of her vision caused the raven haired woman to turn and look up. A traffic light. She glanced over at the cross street. New Scotland Avenue. She was only three blocks from the Medical Center. She quickly opened the passenger door and pulled the lever that reclined the seat. Veronica knew that the best thing was to try and immobilize the woman but there wasn’t any way she could do that at the moment and the puddle of blood was steadily growing. The hospital was too close to think about calling for an ambulance and wasting precious minutes. The decision made, Veronica slipped her arms under the unconscious woman’s shoulders and dragged her to the car. Less than a minute later they were speeding toward the Medical Center.

As she pulled into the drive marked “Emergency” a thought occurred to the corporate magnate. Not only had she been speeding and hit this woman but if a cop chose to do a breathalyzer there was no way that she would pass, not after all the wine she had consumed at Sam’s just a short while earlier. She jerked the car to the right at the last moment and pulled into the one of the surgeon’s parking slots. In the dark with only the back of the Porsche showing, no one would question it being parked there. She exited the car and walked toward the emergency entrance, trying desperately to think of what to do. The answer came to her when she spotted a gurney sitting just inside the glass doors. Veronica grabbed the stretcher and wheeled it out to her car. Hours spent in her private gym made it easy for her to lift the unconscious woman up onto the gurney. During the transfer, a small sports wallet fell out of the victim’s back pocket and landed on the snow covered ground. Veronica picked it up, tucked it inside her leather jacket, and ran as fast as she could while pushing the stretcher toward the emergency entrance.

“I need some help here! This woman’s been hit by a car!” she yelled as soon as the inner doors slid open. The charge nurse and the night intern raced over to begin triage. “We’ve got multiple injuries, check the board and see who’s on call for the OR.” the blond doctor said. A clerk immediately left to page the surgeon and to call for assistance while the nurse began taking the unconscious woman’s blood pressure. Standing back out of the way, Veronica watched on in horror as the doctor cut the young woman’s jacket and clothes off her body. Everything seemed to be covered with blood, especially the pants. An older doctor arrived on the scene, his hair mussed from sleep.

“What do we have?”

“Hit and run. Compound breaks of both tibias and fibulas, Doctor Maise,” the young doctor explained. “Probable internal injuries as well. Whoever hit her was going fast.”

“Have them prep OR 2. Type and cross match six units of blood and page Doctor’s Gannon and Marks to assist.” The rest of the conversation was lost on Veronica as she put her hands in her pockets and felt the cold wallet tucked inside. She opened the thin wallet, surprised at the lack of contents. There were no pictures, no credit cards, not even a driver’s license. A blue library card identified the victim as Rose Grayson and gave her address as Morris Street. A social security card and a Money Slasher check cashing card were the only other pieces of identification. She opened the Velcro compartment inside and found two bus tokens, one house key, and twelve cents. There was nothing else. Well, at least they’d have a name and address to go on, she thought as she walked over to the charge nurse’s desk. As she approached, she heard the two woman behind the desk talking.

“Looks like an indigent to me. Put her down as Jane Doe…let’s see…” She shuffled papers around on the desktop. “…number 77. Once she’s out of danger they’ll transport her over to Memorial anyway.”

“Excuse me,” Veronica interrupted. “She’s been hit by a car and badly injured. Why would they move her to another hospital?”

“Look Miss,” the charge nurse, whose badge simply read Mrs. Garrison, said. “This hospital is mandated by the State of New York to provide all that come here in urgent need medical care. Once they’re no longer in danger of dying from their injuries, we can transport them to another hospital that hasn’t met their requirement for indigents.”

“Requirement for indigents?”

“We are required to provide full care for a certain number of indigents at no cost each year. We’ve met that requirement. It’s obvious she has no money and most likely no insurance. They’re taking her into surgery now, surgery that she’ll probably never pay for. This hospital doesn’t operate on good intentions alone. If she has no ability to pay, she gets transported over to Memorial. They haven’t met their obligation this year.”

The dark haired woman understood the implication…no insurance, no staying at the best Medical Center in the region. “But she has insurance,” Veronica blurted, her decision made. “I mean…I know her. She’s an employee of mine.”

“She has insurance?” Nurse Garrison asked incredulously. “Miss, it’s twenty below out there with the wind chill. She’s running around in a spring jacket that looks like it was taken from the garbage can. Insurance fraud is a crime in New York. Where’s her insurance card?”

“No, I’m telling you she has insurance. Look,” Veronica reached inside her jacket and pulled out her small business card case. “I’m Veronica Cartwright, president and CEO of Cartwright Corporation.” She quickly looked down at the library card in her hand. “Miss Grayson just started working for us. There hasn’t been time for them to issue her card but I swear she does have insurance through my company. Now is there a form or something that I have to sign to authorize this?”

Now realizing that she may have made a mistake, the charge nurse backpedaled. She reached over and grabbed one of several clipboards already set up with a non-removable pen and multipart forms. “Fill out sections one through ten to the best of your ability. Do you know how to contact her next of kin?”

“Uh, no…I’m sure that information is at the office somewhere. I can call with it tomorrow.”

“Fine.” The nurse turned to address her coworker. “Change the chart for Jane Doe 77. Her name is…” she turned back to the tall woman questioningly.

“Rose Grayson.”

“Rose Grayson,” Nurse Garrison repeated, as if the younger nurse didn’t hear it the first time.

Veronica walked away from the charge desk and slumped down in one of the orange vinyl chairs to fill out what little information she did know and settle in for the long wait.

By the third hour of surgery Veronica became very worried. There had been no word on the young woman she had hit and the lack of knowledge set the executive’s nerves on edge. What if she died? Veronica shuddered at the thought. Then another thought came to mind. Daylight would arrive soon and the obvious damage to the front of her car would be noticeable. Noticeable meant questions, questions she didn’t want to answer. She walked over to the pay phone. The woman who always granted favors now needed one. Veronica dialed the familiar number. On the third ring, a sleep filled male voice answered. “You’d better have a fucking good reason for waking me up.”

“Frank, it’s Ronnie.”

“Ronnie?” the tone changed immediately. “Hey cuz, what’s up?”

“I need…” she swallowed. “I need a favor.”

“Did you get that idiot to grant the variance?”

“It’s in the bag. Listen Frank, this is important.” She heard the flicker of a lighter as her cousin lit a cigarette in an attempt to fully wake up. “I need you to come pick up my car and drop me off another one.”

“Since when did I become your private tow truck service?”

“Since I had to spend an evening bailing your ass out with that jerk Grace,” she growled. “It’s in the emergency parking lot at Albany Med. Park the other car in the general lot and bring the keys to me in the emergency waiting room. Frank, you have to do this now. It can’t wait until morning.” She knew that the cost of asking the favor would far outweigh the actual favor but sometimes that was just the way it was. At least she knew who to turn to when she needed something done discretely. Her favorite cousin was nothing if not careful.

“The emergency room? Ronnie, you okay?”

“Quiet down, Frank. You’ll wake Agnes up. Yes, I’m fine, just a big shaken.” She looked at her watch. “I really need you to come down here and get the car.”

“Is your car driveable or did you wrap it around a tree?”

“The windshield and front end are smashed up. You’re better off driving it a couple of blocks and then putting it on a flatbed.”

“Jeez, you don’t ask for much, do you? You know I’ll have to get John to help me. I can’t drive a wrecker and a spare car.”

“Put the spare on the wrecker, then you won’t need another driver, just do it now.” she hung up the phone and returned to the chair that had been making her ass uncomfortable for the last three hours. She picked up a four month old issue of People and had just begun flipping through it when Doctor Maise stepped into the room.

“Grayson. Anyone here for Grayson?” he asked loudly, although Veronica was the only person in the room.

“Here.” She rose to her feet quickly. “How is she?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess. She’s resting now. Are you family?”

“Uh…no, I’m her employer.”

“Oh…have you contacted her family yet?”

“Not yet. My secretary is working on it,” she lied. “How is she?”

“Well, both legs were badly broken and there was a hairline fracture to her skull, most likely from hitting the concrete. Other than abrasions and a gash on her face that required several stitches, there wasn’t much else. No internal injuries anyway. She’ll live, but it’ll be quite a while before she’s able to return to work, I’m sure.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with the corner of his doctor’s coat. “I’d say probably three months for the legs to heal, then maybe three to six months of physical therapy.”

“Oh god.” Veronica sat back down, unable to believe that in a split second she had ruined someone else’s life for who knows how long.

“Did you see the accident?” he asked, pulling her back from her thoughts.

“Uh, no, I didn’t,” she said, praying that John hadn’t fallen back asleep and was on his way with the wrecker and a spare car.

“Well, whoever it was hit that poor girl hard. Probably some drunk who didn’t even realize he hit her.”

“Probably,” she repeated.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on her.” He left the waiting room. She watched him go, then sunk back into the orange chair. The woman, Rose, would live. She breathed a sigh of relief at that but the guilt still weighed heavily upon her. In one brief moment she had destroyed the young woman’s legs, in her mind possibly crippling Miss Grayson for life.

The sky was still dark when Veronica closed her eyes, fatigue threatening to claim her. Minutes later they opened again when her nose was assaulted by the scent of far too much cheap cologne.

“Cuz.”

“Hi Frank,” she said wearily as he plopped down in the seat next to her. “Did you take care of it?”

“All done,” he said proudly, holding out a set of keys. “Blue Mazda. Third level, dealer plates. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Always happy to do a favor for my favorite cousin.” He smiled, showing off teeth that were far too white to be real. “So what’d ya do? Hit someone?”

“Shut up!” she hissed through clenched teeth, amazed at the amount of stupidity that her cousin seemed to possess.

“Sorry.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Jeez, is it your time of the month or something?”

“Thanks for taking care of that, Frank. Do me a favor and make sure the Porsche is taken to my place. Park it in the garage. I’ll have Hans come over and fix it.”

“I don’t understand why you go to him instead of having Michael work on it. You know he owns”

“Michael owns a Toyota dealership. He works on twenty and thirty thousand dollar cars, not Porsches. Hans is the best mechanic I know. Just make sure it’s put in the garage, out of sight. Move the Jeep if you need room.”

“Fine,” he sighed, knowing that he would never win the argument. He looked around for something to occupy his interest.

“Is that it?” she queried, looking pointed at him and then at the door.

“You’re not gonna tell me why you’re here or why your car is all smashed up, are you?”

“Frank, what happened to my car or why I’m here, that’s my business, just like where all the profits from the car wash go are your business. Got it?”

“Got it.” He knew better than to piss off his cousin, knowing full well just how volatile she could be sometimes. He stood up. “You know my number if you ever need anything.”

“Yup.” She opened the People magazine and flipped through the pages, effectively dismissing him. She waited until he was out the door before heading to the nurse’s station to inquire about the young woman’s condition.

Veronica stepped out into the dreary grey of another day. The snow had stopped and now the streets were full of people trying to make their way to work through the frozen slush. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the library card. Morris Street. She tried to picture where the street was in relation to the hospital. Certain that it wasn’t far and that she could find it without a map, Veronica headed for the multi-level parking garage.

The small blue car was parked right where John had said it would be. The raven haired woman tossed her attache into the passenger seat and folded her long frame into the small space of the driver’s seat, fumbling around until she found the lever that allowed her to push the seat back so that her knees weren’t kissing her chin. She had to turn the key several times before the 323

would sputter to life. Veronica gunned the gas repeatedly until the old car seemed willing to continue on its own. “Frank, you son of a bitch,” she swore as the beat up excuse for a vehicle slowly put-putted out of the parking spot and headed down the ramp.

Veronica took a left out of the parking garage and drove up New Scotland Avenue heading toward the park. She went two blocks before the street sign she was looking for appeared. As she thought, Morris Street was a one-way, of course in the direction opposite the way she wanted to go. A quick turn on Madison and another on Knox put her at the other end of the block and finally she was able to go up the narrow street.

Morris street was once home to doctors and families of wealth but had long ago changed to a street known more for the occasional drive-bys and roaches than anything else. The homes were packed tightly together, usually with less than a foot between them. Veronica pulled over at the only open space she found, ignoring the red fire hydrant prominently standing on the broken sidewalk. Veronica grabbed her attache off the seat next to her and stepped out of the car. She briefly thought about locking the battered heap but decided that it wasn’t worth the effort. If a thief wanted to fight with the stupid thing to get it running, it was fine with her. She climbed over the snowbank and looked around for house numbers. Most buildings were missing one or both digits but eventually she found the place that Rose Grayson called home.

Veronica climbed the rickety and slippery steps until she reached the outer doors that led to the first and second floor apartments. A look at the three wall mounted mailboxes showed that Rose lived in the basement apartment. She pulled the small stack of mail from the box and stepped back out onto the landing. Cursing at the thought of negotiating the snow covered stairs again, the raven haired woman placed her gloved hand on the shaky metal railing and slowly made her way back to the street level. Under the stairs she found a door missing most of its paint. A small card taped to the glass said simply “Grayson”. Veronica knocked several times but received no answer. Perhaps the young woman lived alone. Reaching in her pocket, she pulled the key out of the worn sports wallet and wiggled it into the lock built in to the door handle. It took a few tries but finally the lock turned, allowing the executive entrance the small apartment.

To say that Rose lived in abject poverty would have been kind. The first room Veronica entered was most likely the living room, although no one would have known from the furniture. A lawn chair missing several strips sat in the middle of the room, books marked “Albany Public Library” piled up next to it. That was the extent of the furnishings. Not a single picture or poster hung on the walls. Not that a dozen pictures would have made a difference. The old, crumbly plaster was missing in several places, showing the dried out slats beneath. The ceiling was in a similar state of disrepair. Yellowed water stains formed jagged circles and in several places it sagged noticeably. Veronica doubted it would be long before the ceiling began to cave in. The apartment was extremely cool and a quick check of the thermostat showed why. Dust had settled on the dial, indicating that the temperature hadn’t been changed in quite some time. It was set at 60 but with the drafts coming from the old windows the room felt more like fifty. She set her attache

down on the rickety lawn chair, then reached into her pocket and removed the two letters that she had taken from Rose’s mailbox. The first was nothing more than junk mail announcing that if the winning number matched the one in the envelope that “Dose Graydon” would be the winner of eleven million dollars. The other letter was a yellow envelope from the power company. Although she knew she shouldn’t, Veronica slipped one well manicured fingernail under the corner and opened it. As she had suspected, it was a disconnection notice. She tucked that one back in her pocket and headed for the bedroom, hoping to find an address book or something that would indicate whom she should notify that the young woman was in the hospital.

The bedroom was just as revealing as the living room. A small rollaway bed was pushed up against the wall and a fold up chair served as a makeshift dresser. Two pairs of jeans that had long ago seen better days and equally worn sweatshirts made up the small pile of clothes along with a few pairs of socks looking more like Swiss cheese than footwear. A thorough search, not that it took much effort, failed to reveal any address books or other personal items. Not one letter from a friend, no pictures, nothing that indicated that Rose knew anyone…or that anyone knew Rose.

The bathroom was just another depressing stop on Veronica’s tour. The medicine cabinet contained one nearly empty stick of deodorant and a flattened down tube of toothpaste, both sporting the Money Slasher brand name. Two tampons sat on the back of the toilet along with a half-empty roll of toilet paper. A worn towel was draped over the edge of the tub and three pairs of tattered underwear hung over the shower rod. “How do you live like this?” she asked aloud as she turned to leave the small bathroom. As she did, she noticed the one item that she had previously missed before. Sandwiched between the sink and the wall was a small litter box.

“Well at least you’re not alone.” As if on cue, an orange and white kitten no more than four months old came scampering into the bathroom, yowling quite loudly to announce its presence.

“Hello there.”

“Mrrow!” Veronica leaned down to pet it but the cat took off toward the kitchen. “Come here. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Mrrow!” The cat remained at the entrance to the kitchen, refusing to come any closer. “Fine, be that way, see if I give a shit.” She walked past the kitty and entered the kitchen, wishing quickly that she hadn’t.

The stove was an old gas model that probably was quite efficient back in her grandmother’s day. A small frying pan and pot sat on top while a well used cookie sheet rested inside the oven. She opened one drawer and took a step back as several roaches scampered about, trying to sneak back into the darkness. She shut the drawer quickly, but not before noticing the one mismatched set of silverware that it contained. The refrigerator contained a plastic milk bottle that had been refilled with water, half a jar of mayonnaise, a stick of margarine, and an almost empty bottle of ketchup. When Veronica reached for the cupboard door, her legs were quickly encircled by the anxious cat.

“Meow, meow, mrrrow?” Sure enough, the cupboard held within it one half empty box of Money Slasher cat food and a box of elbow macaroni. “Mrrow, meow?”

“Okay, okay, I get the hint,” she said, pulling the box out. The orange and white cat scrambled over to her bowl, waiting none too patiently for the tall human to feed her. “How much do cats your size eat, anyway?”

“Mrrow?”

“Never mind.” She poured the dry food into the bowl until it reached the brim. “There, that should keep you for a while.” She looked at the water dish. “I suppose you’d like some fresh water too, your majesty?” The cat was too busy chowing down to answer. Veronica took the bowl to the sink and dumped the remaining water before turning the tap on. A horrid clunking sound came from the pipes and she quickly shut it off. “Looks like you get the water from the fridge.” She set the bowl on the floor next to the food dish and was about to continue her search when she heard pounding on the door.

“Grayson, I know you’re in there. I heard you turn the water on,” the angry voice on the other side of the door yelled. “It’s the third already and I want my fucking rent money now!” He pounded again. “God Dammit, I’m sick of your whining about your tiny paycheck. If you couldn’t afford this place then you never should have moved in here…god damn piece of trash!”

The door flung open to reveal a portly man who reeked of alcohol despite the early morning hour. “Who the fuck are you? I told her that roommates cost extra.”

“How much does she owe you?” Veronica queried, trying very hard to keep her temper in check.

“Four fifty. Six if I find out you’re living here too,” he growled. “So who the fuck are you?”

Veronica didn’t answer, instead walking over to the lawn chair and rummaging through her attache until she found her checkbook. “What’s your name?”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“If you want to be paid for the rent, I need a name to write on the check…or should I just fill in the word asshole?”

“I don’t take fucking checks. They always bounce.”

“I guarantee this one won’t bounce. Give me a name.”

“Cecil Romano, but I’m not taking any fucking check.”

“Have you heard of the Cartwright Corporation?” She asked while filling in the various parts of the check.

“Of course, who hasn’t.”

“Well, I’m Veronica Cartwright. This check is from my personal account. If you want your rent money I suggest you take this.” She handed over the check. Cecil looked at it carefully, certain that it was a trick.

“I’ll need ID.”

“Fine. Would you like to see my driver’s license or would any major credit card do?” She asked, reaching into the attache and pulling out her wallet. At that moment the orange and white kitty decided to come out and see what all the fuss was about.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Looks like a cat to me. Tell me, are you capable of forming a complete sentence without the word fuck in it?”

“I told her no pets. No pets means no fucking pets. No pets, no roommates, no…whatever the fuck you are.” He folded up the check and stuffed it in his pocket. “I’ve had it. She bitches about everything from a little noise in the pipes to wanting to paint the walls and now this. When you see the little bitch you tell her that I want her out of here by the end of the week. She and that flea ridden thing can go live in the snowbank for all I care.”

“Fine. I’ll see to it that her things are moved out of here immediately. I assume you own the hundred year old stove and fridge?”

“God damn right I own them. I own that bed she sleeps in too. She was supposed to buy it from me for fifty bucks but I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Well, now you won’t. You can keep it.” She tucked her wallet and checkbook back into her case. “Is there anything else or do you feel the need to continue to assault me with your stinking breath?”

“I don’t give a fuck who you are, you can’t come in my house and talk to me that way,” he snarled. “Just make sure the place is in the same condition as when she moved in or she doesn’t get her security back.”

“I doubt you’d give it back anyway,” Veronica countered. “After all, you are the epitome of a slum lord.”

“You’d better take that damn cat with you when you leave or I’ll wring its fucking neck and throw it out in the snowbank.” He flung the door open, letting the cold air mix with the cool air already inside the apartment. “And make sure she forwards her fucking mail,” he growled as he slammed the door.

Veronica turned and rubbed her forehead. “Meow?”

“Well, I guess I have company for a few days, huh?” She said, sitting down on the bare floor next to the cat. “Wish I knew your name. It’d be much easier than calling you ‘cat’ all the time.”

“Mrrow,” the kitty replied, climbing onto the raven haired woman’s lap. Veronica allowed the purring feline to remain for a few minutes while she tried to think through what just happened. She had only meant to find out who to contact to let them know that Rose was hurt and ended up getting the young woman evicted. Not that it was much of a loss, considering the conditions she was living in. No matter, she decided. Her cousin Danielle, ran Cartwright Properties, surely there was an affordable apartment available that they could put Rose into. “Something with real walls,” she muttered, looking at a dinner plate sized hole in the opposite wall. “Okay cat, time to move.” The kitty objected vocally but finally acquiesced when the tall human stood up. “Let’s get your momma’s things together and get you out of here and into someplace warmer.”

Moving Rose’s belongings was easy, especially when Veronica decided that the only things that had to leave the decrepit apartment were the library books and the checkbook she found in the kitchen drawer. The worn out clothes, the useless furniture…she decided that for four hundred fifty bucks Cecil could clean them out himself. Tucking the checkbook into her attache, the library books under her arm, and the cat inside her jacket, Veronica left the apartment, not bothering to lock the door.

Rose opened her eyes and looked around, groaning at both the pain and the realization of where she was. A young blonde nurse looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Grayson. My name is Mary.” She pulled a digital thermometer out of her pocket, placed a protective sheath over the tip, and put it in Rose’s mouth. “You’ve been in a very bad accident.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Rose’s upper arm and pressed her stethoscope against the inside of the young woman’s elbow. The thermometer beeped and Mary pulled it back to check the reading.

“Fine.”

“Excuse me…” Rose inhaled sharply as the nurse made a note on her chart. She felt dopey but scared at the same time. “Wha…what happened?”

“You were hit by a car last night. You’re very lucky that your boss was driving by and saw you. She brought you to the hospital.”

“My boss? Kim found me?”

“Oh, I don’t know her name, deary. I wasn’t here last night. I work the day shift.” She carefully cleaned the skin around the neat row of stitches on Rose’s cheek. “You were in surgery for quite a while and you’re in the recovery room right now. We just need to make sure you’re stabilized and then you’ll be taken to your room.”

“My legs?” She tried to sit up but that only served to increase the intense pain she was feeling in her lower extremities.

“Both your legs were broken. The surgeons worked for hours last night putting the bones back in place.”

“It hurts.” Rose lifted her head to see the stark white of full leg casts.

“They’re giving you something for the pain in your IV,” the nurse said. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

The instant the nurse left the room, Rose broke down in tears. Her face and ribs hurt but it was nothing compared to the excruciating agony her legs were in. She didn’t even want to think about the hospital bill, which no doubt was increasing with every hour that she spent there. She reached over to pour herself a cup of water from the plastic pitcher on the stand next to the bed but the movement caused so much pain that she was unable to complete her task. Whatever they were giving her for the pain was also making her limbs feel extremely heavy and it didn’t take long for Rose to fall back into an uneasy sleep.

Veronica pulled the Mazda into her driveway and parked it next to the garage. To her great annoyance, removing the key from the ignition did not shut the engine off. Instead the blue car continued to sputter and wheeze before for a minute before finally dying. “Well, Cat. I think it’s safe to say that the next place this piece of shit will go is to the junkyard.”

“Mrrow?” The feline replied as she tried to climb onto the tall woman’s lap.

“No no no. This isn’t petting time.” She tucked the cat under her arm and opened the door.

“Come on, let’s see if Maria can find something in the kitchen for you to eat.”

As she exited the car with the cat in tow, Veronica glanced over at her three car garage. The middle door was unlocked and through the half-moon window she saw her Porsche. She silently thanked her cousin Frank for helping her out. The cat squirmed in her grip. “Oh no you don’t. I’m not running all over the neighborhood looking for you.”

Ronnie opened the sliding glass door and entered into the kitchen. Once inside she set the orange and white kitty on the floor. “Maria? Maria are you here?” The keys to the blue car were tossed on the counter.

“I’m here,” a voice from the living room called.

“We’ve got company,” Veronica responded.

Maria was an older woman working on her thirtieth year with the Cartwright family and was near and dear to Veronica’s heart. Jet black hair had long ago given way to a salt and pepper combination and her middle age spread made her lap perfect for whenever the young children came over. Maria walked into the kitchen. “It’s not good for you to be out all night, Ronnie,” she chastised. “If your mother knew…”

“I wasn’t out whoring around, Maria,” she responded, pleased with the shocked reaction on the older woman’s face. She unzipped her jacket and tossed it over one of the stools next to the cook’s island. “Do we have anything here to feed-”

“Mrrow?”

“-a cat?” She finished.

Maria looked down at Veronica’s feet to see the orange and white feline rubbing against her. “Oh my. You brought home a cat?”

“It’s not a permanent arrangement. He’s only going to be here for a few days while his owner is in the hospital.”

The housekeeper bent down and picked up the now purring feline. “I hate to tell you, Ronnie, but he is a she. What’s her name?”

“I don’t know. Call it Cat for now.”

“Hi sweetie, what a pretty kitty you are,” Maria cooed, holding the happy pet to her ample chest.

“Would you like some tuna?” She carried the cat over to the pantry and pulled out a can. “Hmm, doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I don’t think he, I mean she’s ever had tuna before. I think she’s only had dry food.”

“Oh…well then.” Maria put the can on the counter and set the cat gently on the floor. “It’s not good to take her from dry right to canned. It’ll be too rich for her. I can mix them together.”

“I didn’t bring any. I guess we’ll have to get her some food.”

“Well, I’ve already been shopping this week but if you want I’ll run out now. I can start lunch when I get back.” She wiped her hands on her apron and reached for the ties.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll go out and pick up some food for her. I guess we need a litter box too.”

“You took a cat without even getting a litter box? Ronnie, what am I going to do with you?”

“Well, her box was dirty and I wasn’t about to touch it.” Veronica protested. “Look, just make me a cup of coffee while I go take a shower and change. I’ll run out and pick up the things the cat will need.”

“I’ll make you a list. Knowing you, you’ll get the box and forget the litter.”

“Funny,” came the sarcastic reply, although in fact she didn’t think about getting stuff to put in the litter box. “I’ll be back down in a little bit. Try and keep fuzzball off the couch and away from the antiques, okay?”

The mall was busy for a Wednesday afternoon and Veronica ended up parking at the far end of a row. A quick press of the button on her keychain and the bright blue Jeep Cherokee’s doors locked and a warning light on the dash indicated that the alarm system was armed.

It took her fifteen minutes to navigate her way around the mall until she found the pet store. Once inside, she walked down the isles until she found the cat supplies. Racks and shelves of everything from fake mice and scratching posts to catnip and collars vied for her wallet. Veronica hated shopping and when the teenage clerk offered to help her pick out things for her new pet, the raven haired woman readily agreed. The result was seventy-five dollars worth of litter, toys, food, catnip, and various other items that the young girl insisted were necessary for a happy and healthy cat.

After finishing her shopping, Veronica went to the hospital to check on Rose. She wasn’t at all prepared for what she saw. The sheet covering the young woman’s legs outlined the full length casts. A nasty looking row of stitches surrounded by an equally nasty looking bruise covered one cheek and dried tear streaks prominently showed on her face. An IV with several bags hung from one side, giving the injured woman the fluids and pain medications she needed. A catheter disappeared under the blanket. Veronica’s heart ached for the pain that Rose was in as well as the pain that she would go through as she recovered, knowing deep inside that her recklessness behind the wheel was the only reason the young woman was here. As if sensing her presence, the reddish-blonde head turned and green eyes focused on her. “Hello.” she said politely, her voice a bit raspy.

“Hello Rose. How are you feeling?”

“Lucky to be alive I guess,” she croaked, her eyes trailing over toward the water pitcher. Veronica immediately walked over and poured some into the yellow plastic cup.

“Here.” She handed the cup over but then quickly reclaimed her grip on it when she saw the young woman’s hand shake. “Let me help.” Together they got half the cup down Rose’s throat before Veronica returned it to the small stand. “Do you remember anything about the accident?”

“No, not really. I was running…some men were chasing me…I got out of the park and ran out into the street…that’s all I remember before waking up here.”

“You don’t remember anything about the car that hit you?” Veronica prodded. “The color, the type of car, the driver, anything?”

“No, nothing. I’m sorry. Are you with the police?”

“No.” Inwardly Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. Rose couldn’t remember what happened. With a little luck she might just be able to pull this off.

“Oh, then I suppose you’re here to talk to me about the bill?” Rose asked, deciding that the beautiful, well dressed woman had to be a hospital administrator, despite wearing a jacket. Perhaps she had just on duty, Rose reasoned.

“Actually, I do need to talk to you about that but-”

“I have no money,” she interrupted. “I don’t have kids, I don’t qualify for any programs.” She gave a defeated sigh. “I’ll give you whatever I can each week but I’m afraid it won’t be more than five dollars or so.” She resigned herself to giving up her bus fare to help pay for the impossible bill.

“You don’t need to do that,” Veronica said, amazed that someone with obviously little or no money was so quick to take financial responsibility for the hospital bill. “Perhaps you’d better let me explain.” Rose nodded. “My name is Veronica Cartwright. I own Cartwright Corporation. I um…I found you after the accident and brought you here. When I realized that you didn’t have insurance, I told them that you worked for me. Cartwright has an excellent benefits package including medical coverage. You won’t have to pay a cent for your care, I promise.”

“You? But they told me that my boss…” Realization set in. “You told them you were my boss?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Rose seemed to ponder the information. “So instead of owing the hospital, I’ll owe you?”

“No no no. By the end of the day your name will be added to the insurance rolls. I’ll have it backdated to before the accident and you’ll be covered.”

“But isn’t that fraud?”

“Only if you didn’t work for me.” Damn, why did she have to be so difficult? Couldn’t she just accept that the bill would be covered? Veronica couldn’t understand why someone who had nothing was questioning a good thing when it was being offered to her. Maybe she miscalculated just how poor the young woman was. She needed more information. “Tell me, where do you work now?”

“I…” Rose looked down, clearly embarrassed. “I work part-time as a cashier at Money Slasher. I should say I worked part-time. I’m sure they won’t hold the job for me until I can walk again.”

“Do you have any skills? I mean, can you type or take dictation or anything like that?” The crestfallen look on the young woman’s face answered the question. “Well then, I guess you’re a clerk. It’s an entry level job but it’s better than bagging groceries.”

“But I can’t work.” She looked down at the casts covering her legs. “I can’t even walk.”

“The job will be there when you’re ready. Until then, you just concentrate on recovering.” It was so simple, why was she making it difficult? Veronica didn’t plan on this.

“Mrs. Cartwright?”

“It’s Miss, but please call me Veronica.”

“Why are you doing this? I mean, you don’t know me.” After a lifetime of being handed the short end of the stick, an act of such great generosity was too much for her to believe. There had to be something more to it. Everything had a price attached.

The raven haired woman thought quickly, running through the stories she had made up in her mind on the way over, discarding all of them as being lame. “I guess I just wanted to help. I saw you lying there on the street and I reacted. The only way to keep you here at the Med Center was to tell them you had insurance and the only way to give you insurance was to make you an employee. I run a large corporation that operates several smaller ones. Adding you to the rolls isn’t a big deal. I’m sorry, I don’t have a better explanation.” The only other explanation would involve the truth and Veronica couldn’t afford that. “Don’t worry about why I’m helping. Just let me. Now, is there someone I should contact to let them know you’re in the hospital?”

“Um…I guess Kim should know so she can hire someone else for my slot.” Rose said quietly, mourning the loss of the job she had worked so hard to get. It was too much for her to believe that she was being offered a job with a company as large as Cartwright Corp. “She’s the night manager at Money Slasher on Central. I have to turn in my smock in order to get my last paycheck.”

“Would that be the grey thing you were wearing under your jacket?” Rose nodded. “I’m afraid the doctor in the emergency room cut that to pieces when they were treating you.”

“Oh.” Another crestfallen look. “They charge eight dollars for ruined smocks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Veronica said, not fully understanding how important the small sum of money was to the young woman. To Rose, that was her weekly allotment for groceries, almost half of which went to cat food. Through her drug filled haze, a thought came to her.

“Tabitha!” She exclaimed. “Oh my god, someone has to take care of Tabitha.”

“Would that be your cat?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I found your key in your wallet and went to your apartment hoping to find a name or number of someone to contact for you.”

“Did you feed her?” Her concern that someone was in her run down apartment was overshadowed by her worry over the one thing that brought some kind of joy to her life.

“Yes I did,” Veronica replied as Rose turned away, letting a long silence form between them. A lone tear made its way down the young woman’s cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?

Do you need me to call the nurse?” Veronica’s hand was already reaching for the call button.

“No,” the young woman sniffed, wiping away the errant tear. “It’s just that…” She sniffled again,

“…if I’m not there to take care of Tabitha, they’re going to take her away.”

“No no no. No one’s going to take Tabitha away from you. I promise. In fact, she’s at my house right now. She can stay with me until you’re all settled.” Veronica’s heart lurched with the thought of how easily she had destroyed Rose’s life. In one move she had cost the young woman her job, her home, and far more pain than anyone deserved to have. Now she was sitting there, lying to her in order to protect herself. “I swear no one will take Tabitha away.”

“I…I can write you a check for her food. She doesn’t eat much. She’s very friendly.” The words rolled out of Rose’s mouth and there was no way that the older woman could miss the desperation in her voice.

“Don’t worry about it. Please, I want you to concentrate on getting better. Tabitha will be fine with me. I live alone, I’m sure I’ll enjoy the company.”

The dark haired woman was about to say something else when a firm knock on the door caused them to turn. Veronica’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the blue uniform and shiny badge.

“Excuse me ladies. I’m here to take a report on the hit and run last night?” He stepped in and pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket. “You’re Rose Grayson, right?” He continued on without waiting for an answer. “Now I understand this happened on Madison Ave. around midnight?”

“I think it was more like twelve thirty,” Rose said.

“Yes, twelve thirty,” he repeated. “Now is there anything you can tell me, like the make and model of the car that hit you, the license number, the color?”

“No, I never saw it.” She turned her head toward Veronica. “Do you remember?”

“You were there too?” The officer queried. No one had told him there were any witnesses.

“I um…I must have come upon her just after the accident. I didn’t see anyone.”

“That sure was a hell of a storm last night. What were you doing out so late, Miss…?”

“Cartwright, Veronica Cartwright. I had a business dinner with Commissioner Grace at Sam’s and was heading home.”

“Cartwright, as in the car wash Cartwrights?”

“Yes, among other holdings,” she replied, annoyed that after all her hard work the most well known part of her company was the cousin’s stupid car washes.

“Well then…” He turned his attention back to the victim lying in bed. “I guess you’re pretty lucky to have had her come up on you. Looks like they hit you pretty good. Probably a drunk driver. Hard to believe the bastard didn’t have the guts to stick around and make sure you got help but I guess all that matters is that you’re alive.”

“Yes, I was very lucky that Miss Cartwright came along when she did. Who knows how long I was lying there.”

“Well, if I could just get your address and phone number for the report, we’ll be all set. I have to tell you that there isn’t much to go on so don’t get your hopes up. Unless this guy is stupid enough to be driving around with a lot of front end damage and admits to being on Madison last night, there’s not really much we can do.”

“I understand,” Rose said quietly. She didn’t expect them to find the man that hit her. “I don’t have a phone but my address is 98 Morris Street.” Veronica’s emotions alternated between relief at having such a disinterested cop investigating the accident and guilt at the fact that she was lying to protect her own skin at the expense of Rose’s peace of mind.

“Well, I guess if there’s anything I missed, we can find you here. From the looks of your legs I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere for a while.” Veronica bristled at the comment but Rose appeared unaffected.

“Thank you,” the young woman said. The cop turned toward the door and noticed a friend of his walking down the hall.

“Hey John, wait up. Ladies, thank you. I’m sure I have all I need right now.” He was gone before either could respond.

“They’re not going to find him, you know,” Rose said quietly. “I know life isn’t like television. They don’t even know what kind of car to look for.” She shifted slightly, grimacing at the pain that was now her constant companion. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she sighed. “The damage is done. Even if they did find him it wouldn’t make my legs heal any faster.”

Veronica didn’t know what to say and was grateful when the television vendor walked in. “Good afternoon Miss…” She looked down at her clipboard. “Grayson. Would you like your TV turned on?”

“No thank you,” Rose said quickly.

“Why not?” Veronica asked, although she was certain she knew the answer.

“I don’t like television.”

“Uh huh.” The raven haired woman turned toward the vendor. “Turn it on and leave it on for as long as Miss Grayson is here.”

“It’s three dollars a day, twenty dollars per week.”

“Fine.” Veronica picked her attache off the floor and pulled out her wallet. “Here.” She handed the television woman two twenties.

“Very well.” She made a notation on her clipboard, then reached behind the TV and unlocked the attached box. A few seconds later the set hummed to life with Judge Judy yelling at the defendant on her courtroom style show.

“There, now you’ll have something to help you pass the time,” Veronica said after the vendor left.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Rose replied, feeling very uncomfortable. “I would have been fine without it. You were in my apartment. You know I don’t own a TV.” She sighed. “Besides, whatever they’re giving me for the pain makes me tired. I don’t know how much I would watch. Certainly not twenty dollars worth.”

“Let’s make a deal here, okay? You need help and I want to help. Now the television is paid for. You can either accept it and enjoy it or you can leave it off and stare at a blank screen all day.”

The noise from the television interrupted their conversation. “…and if you think for one minute that I believe that some stranger broke into your apartment and stole everything that belonged to your roommate here and left all of your stuff behind then you’re a complete idiot. I wasn’t born yesterday, Mister Richards. Judgment for the plaintiff in the amount of six hundred fifty three dollars and twelve cents. Case dismissed.” Veronica looked over to see Rose watching with complete interest.

“It’s like being in court,” the young woman said, her attention never leaving the set.

“It’s a good show.”

“Is it on every week?”

“Every day, Rose. You can watch it every day at noon.” She smiled and whispered conspiratorially. “I’m too busy to watch it when it airs but I tape it and catch up on the weekends.”

“Thank you,” the young woman said sincerely, her green eyes smiling at Veronica. “It will make it easier to pass the time here.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She leaned her arms on the railing of the bed. “So are you going to tell me who I can contact besides your job to tell them that you’re here? Surely someone will miss you.”

The small smile that had been on Rose’s face disappeared. “There’s no one to contact.”

“No one? Not even a friend?”

Rose gave a sad smile. “I haven’t lived in Albany that long,” she said, not wanting to reveal the truth, that she deliberately avoided making friends because friends liked to stop by and visit and she was too embarrassed at her meager living conditions. She shifted and a shooting pain burned up her left leg, making her cry out. “Oh god that hurts,” she hissed. Veronica immediately reached over and pressed the call button repeatedly.

“What is it?” Mary asked as she entered the room.

“She’s in pain. Can’t you give her anything?”

“She’s receiving an appropriate amount through her IV but if she needs more I can give her a shot.” She looked at Rose, who was trying hard not to cry. “Miss Grayson?”

“Yes she is. Can’t you see she’s suffering?” Veronica answered testily.

“Miss Grayson?” The nurse repeated. Rose reluctantly nodded, the pain too much to bear any longer. To her surprise, a larger hand enfolded her own. Another twinge of pain shot through her and she gripped Veronica’s hand tightly. The nurse left and returned a minute later with a needle. She unceremoniously pulled the sheet and hospital gown back to expose Rose’s right hip and stuck the needle in. “This will sting for a minute.” The young woman gripped Veronica’s hand even tighter as the medication was injected. “There, all done.” The nurse looked up at the dark haired woman. “She’ll probably fall asleep in a few minutes.”

“Fine, I won’t be much longer.” The nurse nodded and left, not bothering to pull the sheet back into place. Veronica used her free hand to reach over and cover Rose’s hip with the stark white linen. “Do you want me to stay for a while until you fall asleep?”

“No, that’s…” She was unable to stifle a yawn. “…that’s all right…I’m fine…” The powerful drug acted quickly, causing her head to loll to the side and her eyes to take on a glassy look. “Are you sure you’re not an angel?” She asked sleepily as her eyelids sagged. “You look like an angel…you…” Another yawn, “…act like…” Her eyes closed and the hand that had been holding Veronica’s fell limply to the side.

She waited several minutes until she was certain that Rose was asleep before standing up and tucking the blanket around the injured woman. “Sleep well, Rose,” she whispered.

Part 2

Veronica opened the door and dragged the litter box, scratching post, and bag of toys inside.

“Tabitha, come on you little fuzzball, I’ve got toys for you.” She sat down on the floor and pulled out the various items. The orange and white kitten came buncing over to see what the tall human was up to. She sat back and watched as the packages were opened and fake mice, bagged catnip, and various toys were tossed into a pile. “There you go,” she said, fully expecting the feline to dive into the pile and play. Tabitha did what any cat would do, walked past the pile of cat toys and started batting at the empty wrappers. “Hey, the toys are over here.” She grabbed the little ball with the bell hidden inside and shook it to get the cat’s attention. “See? Toys here, garbage there.” Tabitha looked at it, looked at the wrappers, and went back to playing with the clear plastic.

“Fine, be that way, see if I care,” the dejected woman said, stuffing the wrappers into the plastic bag. “I got you a litter box too, think you’ll use that?”

“Mrrow?”

“That’s what I thought.” She stood up, tucked the bag of litter under one arm, the cat box under the other, and headed to the kitchen. “Seventy five bucks on toys and the stupid thing wants to play with the packages they came in.” She set the bag and box on the table. A note held to the refrigerator with a magnet told her Maria had left for the day along with instructions on how long to microwave the dinner she had prepared.

Exhaustion begged her to stop and rest but there were just too many things that had to be done. She quickly set up the litter box and put it in the mud room, leaving the door ajar so Tabitha could come and go freely. That task done, Veronica strode out to the living room, picking up the cordless phone and dialing the familiar number on the way.

“Cartwright Insurance, how can I help you?” The crisp feminine voice on the other end of the phone asked.

“Susan Cartwright, please.”

“She’s busy right now, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Veronica Cartwright. Interrupt her, this is important.”

“One moment.” She heard a click followed by the most boring hold music she had ever heard. Flopping down on her soft brown leather couch and kicking her shoes off, she tucking her feet beneath her. Tabitha bounded out of the kitchen and climbed up next to her.

“Mrrow?”

“What do you want?” she asked, reaching out with her free hand to scratch the cat behind the ears. “Let’s get something straight right from the start, okay? I bought a scratching post for you. The ten thousand dollar couch is off limits to your claws, got it?”

“Mrrow.” The orange and white feline laid her upper body across Veronica’s thigh and began purring.

“Ronnie, how are you?”

“Fine Sis, listen, I need you to add an employee to the insurance rolls.”

“Usually Human Resources sends over their paperwork once they’ve reached the appropriate service mark.” Veronica heard the clacking of the keyboard. “What’s their social?”

“She’s not in the computer yet, Susan. I need you to add her and push the paperwork through.”

“She has to be in the system. All employees are added once they’ve filled out their I-9’s and W4’s.”

“She hasn’t filled them out yet. She’s a new hire.” Veronica heard the clacking stop and the squeak of her sister’s chair moving.

“What department does she work for?”

“Um…she’s a clerk in the accounting office downtown.”

“An entry level? Ronnie, don’t you know they have to have six months service before we give them benefits?”

“I didn’t realize that.” She rubbed her forehead, drawing a protest from the purring pile of fluff on her leg.

“What’s that?”

“I’m watching a friend’s cat for a few days. Look, I hired her personally and promised her full benefits. Can’t you push it through?”

“It’s so rare that my only sister asks me for a favor. Of course I can. Fax me her forms and I’ll add her to the rolls.”

“Actually Susan, I need you to fax me the forms for her to sign. I also need you to give her the best medical plan we have and backdate it to the first of the month. Can you do that?”

“It’ll cost you,” the younger sister said in a sing song voice. “Dinner with Mom next Friday?”

“Can’t I just buy you a new car or something?” the executive groaned.

“Veronica Louise, you never spend any time with Mom. Jack and I are there every Friday night for dinner and Tommy is there on Sundays. She always asks about you.”

“She knows my phone number, Susan. I talk to her.”

“I know. We heard for two weeks about how you called her on her birthday. Funny, that was a month ago.”

“All right, all right. Fax me all the forms and I’ll get them back to you later tonight.”

“So we’ll see you next week at Mom’s?”

“Fine. I’ll be there, but don’t expect me to stick around after dinner while she goes through the scrapbook and tries to relive our childhood.”

“At least you’ll be there. That’ll make her happy.”

“Whatever. Fax those forms over, will ya?”

“They’ll be there in a few minutes. Wish you’d let me in on why you personally hired someone for an entry level job.”

“Sis, if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you. Nice talking with you too, bye.” Veronica pressed the off button on the cordless phone and set it down on the coffee table. “Well Tabitha, that’s all set. How about you hop down and play with some of your toys while I take a nap, hmm?” She tried to nudge the feline but the purring pile of fur refused to move. “Fine, be that way.” She adjusted the end pillow and closed her eyes. At first the rhythmic purring annoyed her but within a few minutes Veronica was sound asleep, as was a very contented Tabitha.

Rose was awake but very obviously in pain by the time Veronica returned to the hospital. “Hi.”

“Hi, Rose. How are you feeling?” She set the attache on the floor and pulled the chair next to the bed.

“Everything hurts but other than that I’m fine,” she joked.

“Doesn’t the medicine they give you help?”

“It puts me to sleep, but yeah. It’s the only thing that touches the pain,” she replied, smoothing the blanket covering her.

“I brought some forms that I need you to sign. I filled them out as best I could but I didn’t know all the answers.” She pulled a manila folder out of the case and set it on the bed. “I never realized how many forms it takes to hire someone.” She held the pen out and was surprised to see Rose take it in her left hand. “You’re a lefty?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” she smiled. “The first three just need your signature. The others have some blanks that you have to fill in.”

“You know, I still can’t believe you’re just giving me a job, especially since I can’t even work,” Rose said, shaking her head. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“I do a lot of things that don’t make any sense, just ask my mother.”

Rose signed the forms quietly before handing the pen back. “Are you close to your mother?”

“Not really. We have different opinions on how I should live.” She hesitated for a moment before deciding to broach the subject that had tugged at her mind. “What about your family? Did you have a falling out with them or something? I mean, it seems strange that you wouldn’t want them to know that you were in the hospital.”

Green eyes turned away to stare at the venetian blinds that covered the window. “I was a baby when they died. A car accident. A drunk driver ran a stop light and hit them. That’s all I know.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” She felt bad for bringing the subject up.

“It’s all right,” the young woman said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t remember them. I guess you can’t miss what you never had.” Rose tried to sound casual about it but Veronica suspected it was an act put on for her benefit.

“Who raised you?”

“The State. Sometimes foster families, but mostly I lived in state-run orphanages or homes. As soon as I graduated high school I got a job working as a cashier. I’ve been on my own since then.” Not wanting to continue the topic of her past, Rose changed the subject. “So how’s Tabitha?”

“She’s fine. She likes to purr a lot.”

“Mmm, that means she’s happy,” Rose replied. “You must be good with animals.”

“I wouldn’t know. This is the first time I’ve ever had one.”

“You never had pets when you were growing up?”

“No. My father was allergic to cats and my mother was afraid that a dog would wreck the place. How’d you end up with Tabitha?”

“Oh.” She reached for the water glass only to have Veronica help her. She took a long swallow of the cool liquid before answering. “I found her, or rather she found me. I was walking home one night and she appeared out of nowhere. Just skin and bones. Followed me home. She’s been with me since.” A fearful look came to her eyes. “The landlord didn’t see her, did he? I’m not supposed to have any pets.”

“Actually…he came downstairs while I was there.”

“Oh no.” A worried look covered the young woman’s face. “Was he nice?”

“Not in the least,” Veronica replied. “He seems to think the word fuck is an adjective and should be used every time he opens his foul little mouth.”

“What did he say to you?” The trepidation was evident in her voice.

“Nothing you need to worry about right now.”

“He kicked me out, didn’t he?” While the executive would never consider it a great loss, the young woman was obviously upset by the news.

“Rose, don’t worry about it, please? I promise everything will be all right.” She looked at her watch. “Come on, I think Jeopardy is coming up soon. We’ll sit back and see who gets the most questions right, okay?”

“I like Jeopardy,” Rose said, pressing the button to raise the head of the bed slightly. “There’s a TV in the employee lounge at work and sometimes my dinner break is at seven-thirty so I can watch it. I’m pretty good too, although I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay awake too long.”

“Oh, do you want me to leave so you can get some sleep?”

“No.” She reached out for Veronica’s hand. “Please stay.”

“Sure, just don’t get upset if I get more answers right. No one will play Trivial Pursuit with me.”

“Oh, do you have that? It’s such a fun game. I played it once down at the community center.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll bring it in tomorrow for us to play and I promise not to beat you too badly.”

“We’ll see who beats who,” Rose countered with a smile. The Jeopardy theme song drew their attention to the television. “Ooh, it’s starting.” She settled her head back into her pillow to watch the show but before the first commercial break she was sleeping. The dark-haired executive gently tucked Rose’s blanket in and shut the television off. She sat there for several minutes looking at the large casts and the stitches that formed a line on the young woman’s cheekbone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before leaving the room.

Tabitha was waiting none too patiently at the door when Veronica returned home. “Mrrow!”

“What? You have food.”

“Mrrow!”

“You have toys and you have food. What more do you want?” Tabitha responded by rubbing against Veronica’s leg, leaving orange and white hairs all over her black slacks. She bent down and picked the feline up, apparently turning on the purr button at the same time. She held the happy cat with one arm and the attache in the other. “Wanna see how the fax machine works?

Come on.”

Veronica’s office was on the first floor near the stairs. Five minutes later the insurance forms were faxed and the dark-haired woman ran upstairs to change into her ‘comfortable’ clothes, namely an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. She glanced at her watch and groaned. She had a meeting first thing in the morning and had yet to review the monthly reports. “I think it’s gonna be a long night, Tabitha.” She plodded over to her desk and turned on her computer, dreading the idea of spending the next few hours pouring over spreadsheets and reports. Of course, the heads of each division would go over the same things with her tomorrow but Veronica prided herself on knowing exactly how good or bad each department was doing before hearing the glossed over version from her relatives. A push of the power button and the computer hummed to life, the Cartwright corporate logo covering the twenty-inch screen. She typed her password and the logo disappeared, revealing the main screen. “Mrrow?”

“No. This is human stuff, nothing up here for you to see,” she said to the anxious cat standing up on hind legs in anticipation of being picked up. Tabitha extended her front claws into the light gray of Veronica’s sweatpants. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Mrrow?”

“No. Go play with your toys.” She turned her attention to the first report, Cartwright Real Estate. Veronica’s younger brother Tommy was in charge of that division. Several tracts of land had been purchased throughout the region in anticipation of building housing developments but they were seriously behind in their growth projections. The timetable had called for one hundred homes to be built and sold, yet as of the end of last month only twenty had actually been completed and barely half of those had bids in on them much less sold. “What am I gonna do with him?” She leaned back in her comfortable leather chair and rubbed her eyes. The movement seemed to be an open invitation to Tabitha, who quickly jumped up onto her lap. “Come on, I can’t get any work done if you’re here.” She gently scooped the purring animal in her arms and set it down on the floor. “Go play.”

The clock in the lower right corner of the computer read 2:53 a.m. by the time Veronica gave up and shut the computer down for the night. She went out to the main room to set the alarm for the night when she spotted the dark blue vinyl checkbook sitting on the entry table next to the library books. Her conscience told her not to look, that Rose’s financial business was her own, but curiosity got the best of her and she found herself sitting on the soft brown leather sofa with the checkbook in hand.

There were not that many entries. The register only went back four months, but it gave a wealth of insight into the life of the woman lying in the hospital. Small, neat writing detailed every deposit, every check. No deposit was over one hundred fifty dollars. Four withdrawals were listed as being for rent, each time wiping out money that had taken most of the previous month to build up. Two entries existed for the power company, and several were written to Money Slasher. Every week deposits of various meager amounts were recorded followed by checks to the supermarket for groceries. The highest check was for slightly over ten dollars and the lowest was for just over five. What Veronica found most interesting were the remaining checks, all written to someone named Delores Bickering. Those checks ranged in amount from five to twenty-five dollars, each one taking what little remained in the young woman’s account after paying for her weekly expenses. Those entries appeared just as often as the checks to Money Slasher. The current balance showed one hundred twelve dollars and change in the young woman’s account, far less than the rent that had been due. Veronica’s eyes went back to the entry for the November rent. It was that week that Rose had purchased the five dollars and change worth of groceries, the register showing a negative amount of two dollars and fifteen cents after that entry. It was the only time that Rose had overdrawn her account and Veronica could not even imagine what the young woman had purchased to try and survive that week.

She closed the checkbook and set it down on the coffee table. Why was Rose, who did not have two dimes to rub together, constantly writing checks to someone else? Did she have an old debt she was trying to pay off? What other explanation could there be? The young woman said that there was no one to contact, so this Bickering person could not be a relative. The late hour and the heavy thinking took its toll as exhaustion finally won out and the couch once again became the wealthy woman’s bed for the night, with Tabitha curled up against her.

Somewhere in the distance a phone was ringing. Veronica rolled over, disturbing the sleeping cat. The ringing became louder and louder, penetrating her dream world and pulling her out of her sound sleep. Her arm shot out and clumsily fumbled about the coffee table for the annoying telephone. “Mmm…Cartwright.”

“Ronnie?”

“Yeah?” came the sleep muddled reply.

“Ronnie, do you have any idea what time it is?” The sound of her sister’s voice helped to clear the cobwebs in her mind as she slowly rolled into a sitting position. “It’s quarter to ten.”

“Oh shit!” Blue eyes shot open as she realized the purpose of the call. “Dammit, I fell asleep on the couch. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She was already heading for the stairs, cordless phone in hand. “Susan, not a word. I had a flat tire, got it?”

“I can’t believe you overslept,” the younger sister chuckled. “I thought you had a built in alarm clock. Wait until Mom hears this.”

“Susan…” she growled, reaching the top of the stairs and racing into her bedroom. “I’ll be there, stall them or something.” She hit the off button on the phone and tossed it on the bed as she headed for her bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she was in her Jeep Cherokee and heading for Albany, speed limits be damned.

At ten-thirty, the double oak doors opened wide as Veronica raced into the meeting room.

“Sorry, flat tire.” she said while taking her seat at the far end of the long rectangular table. “Shall we get started?” The silence she received caused her to take a look around. Apparently she was not the only one to have trouble getting to the meeting on time. “Where’s Tommy?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been calling him ever since I got off the phone with you and there’s no answer at any of his numbers,” Susan replied. Seated just to the right of her older sister, the head of Cartwright Insurance could never be mistaken for Veronica. Susan had, thanks to hours with a stylist, flaming red hair permed into large curls that swarmed about her head and on down to her shoulders. Though married for thirteen years to a successful lawyer, she refused to give up her family name, deciding that the stature it provided was far better than the common name of Smith. Unlike Veronica, who outside of light nail polish could only rarely be coerced into wearing the slightest amount of makeup, Susan believed wholeheartedly that it enhanced her features and thus spent two hours every morning applying everything from base to blush to mascara.

“Did you try his beeper?” It was a stupid question but Ronnie still had to ask. Over the last few months, her youngest sibling had become increasingly difficult to get hold of and his attentiveness at meetings left plenty to be desired. Looking at her watch, she decided not to wait for the wayward sibling any longer. “Fine, we’re running late enough, let’s just get started.” She opened her portfolio and pulled out the first report. One by one they went around the room, ten different Cartwrights or relations of Cartwrights explaining how their particular division was doing and what their plans were for the next month. Most of the words sailed past Veronica, who nodded occasionally but paid hardly any attention. Her mind was several miles away, wondering what Rose was doing, how she was feeling, and how Delores Bickering fit into the young woman’s life.

It was quarter past twelve when the doors opened to reveal a sandy haired man, looking disheveled and rumpled. “Sorry,” he mumbled, slinking over to his chair. “Power outage, alarm didn’t go off.”

“I suppose you didn’t have a clean suit either?” Veronica said disapprovingly. The various cousins and relatives surrounding the table looked from the black-haired woman to Tommy and back again, fully expecting a battle. The young man, however, pretended not to notice his oldest sister’s comment.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“No, of course not,” her tone barely betrayed her annoyance at him. “I was just getting ready to go over the figures for your latest project.”

“I’d say we’re in pretty good shape, all things considered,” he replied. Ten pairs of eyes flew back to Veronica.

“And just what things would you like me to consider in light of the figures I’m looking at?” She pulled out the computer-generated report and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. “Sales are off almost thirty percent over last year and expenses are through the roof.”

“I can’t help it if the contractors raised their prices. Inflation, you know,” he shot back angrily. Veronica didn’t miss the bloodshot eyes or the way Tommy kept looking at his watch.

“Inflation has nothing to do with this. According to these figures, over fifty housing units should be completed. As of last week, only twenty were finished. What the hell is going on, Tommy?”

“I’m on top of it, all right?” he shot back angrily, his fist striking the marble tabletop with enough force to shake the water glass in front of him. Silence filled the room as everyone waited for Veronica to react. Instead she turned her attention to Frank.

“I hear you got the variance you wanted. When’s the ground-breaking?” For the rest of the meeting, the black-haired woman refused to look at her angry brother, and vice-versa. Tommy left the instant the meeting was over, only adding to the speculations and comments by the relatives.

“Ronnie, what’s going on with him?” Susan had pulled the executive aside, concern clearly written on her face. “He’s been so strange lately, so angry. You don’t think he’s doing drugs, do you?”

“I don’t know what I think, Sis, I just know that something is wrong.” She glanced at her watch.

“I need to be somewhere.”

“Yeah, what’s going on with you? What’s with this Grayson person?” Her younger sister’s natural curiosity for gossip, particularly whenever it concerned anyone in the family, was showing through.

“Nothing, just someone I met and decided to hire. Did you take care of that insurance?” As she was talking, Veronica was heading toward the door.

“Of course. It’s on my list of things to do today.” Susan replied casually.

“No. It has to be done right away. And don’t forget to backdate it to the beginning of the month. It’s very important.” She gripped her younger sister’s upper arm to stress her point.

“I’ll do it the instant I get back to my office. Really, Ronnie, you’d think it was a life or death situation.”

“Just make sure it’s done today, Susan. Fax the confirmations to me at home.” Veronica walked out to the elegant hallway and pressed the down button for the elevator. She stepped in only to have her younger sister stick her arm out to keep the doors from shutting.

“Hey, I almost forgot to ask. What’d you get Mom for Christmas?”

“I’ve got to go, Susan.” She pressed the button and waited expectantly.

“You mean you haven’t gotten her anything yet? Christmas is only twenty days away.”

“That’s twenty days that I have to pick something out. Don’t worry about it. Mom will have an appropriate gift from me. Come on, Susan. I need to get going here.” She pushed her sister’s arm out of the way of the doors.

“Just don’t forget to be at Mom’s next Friday for dinner. You promised.”

The Jeep wound its way up Madison Avenue just as a light snow began to fall. Veronica remembered her promise to bring a Trivial Pursuit game with her but the darkening clouds and the late hour made her decide to forgo a trip to the mall to pick one up in favor of getting to the hospital before it got too much later.

She walked through the open door to Rose’s room only to find the bed empty, an orderly changing the sheets. “Where’s Miss Grayson?”

“X-ray. They’ll be bringing her back in a few minutes,” the burly man replied, tucking the last corner in. She went to the chair in the nearby corner and sat down to wait for the young woman’s return.

Fifteen minutes went by before Rose was wheeled back into her room. The first thing Veronica noticed were the fresh tears that streamed down the sides of the injured woman’s face. The two orderlies were as careful as they could be with their patient but Rose still cried out in pain when they switched her from the gurney back to her bed.

“Hey, how’ya feeling?” the tall woman asked softly, pulling the stiff plastic chair closer to the bed.

Rose forced a smile to her face at the sight of the black-haired woman. After a long night of being in agony and an even more grueling morning of having doctors and residents coming in to poke and prod her, the sight of the woman who made her recovery possible was quite welcome.

“They took new X-rays of my legs to make sure everything is still lined up right.” Her face betrayed her pain as she shifted and she rubbed her hip. “They’re giving me Hepa-something to thin my blood. Doctor Barnes is worried about clotting.”

“Did he say anything about how you’re doing? I mean, he doesn’t foresee any long term problems, does he?” Veronica reached over and helped adjust one of the pillows behind the blonde woman’s head.

“She said we won’t know that for weeks,” Rose replied.

“She? Well, what did you think of her? Did she seem competent? If you don’t like her, Rose, you just let me know. I’ll get you another doctor.” The words came out in a rush and Veronica was just as surprised as the injured woman. “I mean, if you aren’t happy with the way she’s treating you, you have the right to ask for another doctor.” She hoped her explanation did not sound as lame to Rose as it did to her.

“No, she’s fine, really. I mean, she can’t help it if I’m in pain. She said I’m getting the most pain medicine she feels comfortable giving me.”

“If you need more…”

“No. I don’t think they make anything strong enough to touch the pain. It just hurts so much all the time. Even when I’m sleeping, I’ll move and the pain is just so strong it wakes me up.” She looked down dejectedly at her smashed legs and ankle. “It feels like the pain will never end,” she said sadly.

“Rose, it may not seem like it now, but you will get better. It’s just going to take time.” Veronica tried to keep her voice as reassuring as possible. “Tabitha is quite the character,” she said, hoping that the change in subject would help take Rose’s mind off her injuries.

“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” the young woman said honestly. “Whenever I need her, she’s right there. All she ever asks for is food and attention.”

“And I’m sure you give her plenty of both,” Veronica replied.

“Well, the love and attention I can always give her.” The green eyes took on a sad look. “Food isn’t always as easy.” She looked up at the sculptured features of her generous benefactor. “I’m sure she’s very happy with you.”

“Rose, I haven’t taken Tabitha away from you, believe me. I’m only watching her while you’re here. Once you’re back on your feet, I’ll bring her right back to you, I promise.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said softly, tears from both the constant pain and the fear of losing her beloved pet clouding her eyes and threatening to spill over. “I can’t even take care of myself anymore much less her. I don’t even have a place to live.”

“That place wasn’t fit for a rat to live in. When you get out of here…”

“When I get out of here I won’t be able to walk, I’ll have no money, and I won’t even have a place to live,” Rose snapped. “You should have left me there on the street.”

“NO!” Veronica stood up and leaned over until she was only inches from Rose’s face and looking into deep green eyes. “Listen to me. You will walk again and you don’t have to worry about finding a place to live. Rose, I’m not going to give up on you so don’t you go giving up on yourself. I know you are a survivor. Don’t let this take that away.”

“What am I supposed to do when they release me? It’s the fifth already. Cecil would certainly have changed the locks by now. He warned me to never be late with the rent.”

“That overgrown bully wouldn’t bother changing the locks.”

“He did kick me out, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Veronica admitted. “But I wouldn’t have let you continue to live there anyway. It’s not fit for a human to live in and certainly not you. When they release you from here they’ll probably send you to a rehabilitation center until you can walk again. After that I’ll make sure you get a decent place to live.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Rose, we both know that you need help and that I want to help. I know you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time but right now you need someone else to look out for you. Please let me be that someone.”

The room was quiet for a minute while Rose looked down at her lap, chewing her lower lip. “I haven’t had to rely on anyone to take care of me for a long time. I guess I don’t have much choice now.” Her face betrayed her feelings of failure and the hopelessness of her situation. “This is hard for me. I’d rather go without than take charity.”

Veronica found it hard to believe that it was so difficult for Rose to accept the help being offered when the alternatives were so clear, but when she paused to consider the story that the checkbook told, it made perfect sense. There was a depth to the young woman’s character that she would not have believed still existed in the modern age where so many people seemed more than ready to accept anything the state or government offered, whether they deserved it or not.

“Don’t think of it as charity, Rose. I don’t.”

“What do you think of it as?” she asked curiously. Before Veronica could answer, another blast of intense pain shot through the young woman, causing her face to screw up with agony. “Oh God, it hurts,” she hissed. “It hurts so much.” Tears began to stream down her face and she reached for the offending limbs. “Make it stop, please make it stop hurting,” she begged.

Unable to take the pain away, Veronica did the only thing she could think of. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Rose into a tight embrace, unmindful of the tears that soaked her silk blouse. It did not matter. Nothing mattered except trying to help the incredibly brave young woman get through this. “It’s okay, Rose. I’ve got you,” she murmured into the golden hair while her hand gently rubbed up and down the bare back exposed by the hospital gown.

“It hurts…it won’t stop hurting…oh God, please make it stop, make it stop hurting so much,” Rose sobbed, her grip around Veronica’s neck tightening. The strong arms wrapped around her offered comfort, something which had almost never been offered to the young woman before, and Rose accepted it gratefully.

“I’m sorry, Rose, I’m so sorry,” Veronica whispered over and over, feeling her own emotions threatening to come forth in empathy for the young woman’s pain, pain caused by her actions on that fateful night. “It’s gonna be all right. Shhh…okay now, it’s all right.” She continued to make shushing noises and hold Rose as the sobbing continued. Mercifully the nurse arrived a few minutes later and gave the injured woman a shot that brought on an uneasy sleep. Veronica remained for quite a while, watching Rose sleep and wishing that there was something, anything that she could do to remove the damage she had done to the courageous young woman.

Rose awoke several hours later to find herself alone. She pressed the call button for the nurse.

“What do you need, deary?” The dark skinned woman said as she entered.

“Nothing really, ” Rose replied, embarrassed about having pressed the button just to see another face. It had been four days since she was brought in and the only people she ever saw were hospital personnel and Ronnie.

“Well, I’m glad you’re awake,” the nurse replied. “It’s time to check your vitals.”

“Do you know what time Miss Cartwright left?” the blonde woman asked just before the thermometer found its way into her mouth.

“Would that be your friend that was here earlier?” Rose nodded. “She left shortly after I went on duty so I’d say about an hour or so ago. She left you a note.”

It was only then that Rose saw the cream colored paper folded in half sitting on her bed tray. She reached for it but her arms were not long enough. The nurse handed it to her before wrapping the black blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. Rose let the note lay on her chest until the nurse was done, preferring to read it in private. She grimaced as the cuff constricted more and more around her small arm. When she thought it could not possibly get any tighter she heard the hiss of the air being released. “Fine. Your pressure is good and your temperature is normal. At this rate you’ll be out of here in no time.” The nurse removed the Velcro fastened cuff and made a notation on the chart. “Your dinner will be here shortly and I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you.” Rose smiled, she had been put back on solid food the day before and her appetite had returned stronger than ever.

Once the nurse was gone Rose picked up the note and unfolded it. There on Cartwright letterhead was a note from Veronica.

Rose,

I had to return to the office to take care of a few things. I’ll be back in time for Jeopardy. Try to rest and don’t be afraid to ask for more painkillers if you need them. Leave some room after dinner. I hope you like Chinese food.

Ronnie

The young woman’s fingers slid over the textured paper. Where her own handwriting was small and neat, Veronica’s was full of flourish and style. She grinned at the comment about leaving room after dinner. When it came to food, Rose knew she could always eat everything in front of her and then some. She pressed the remote for the television, once again silently grateful to her benefactor, and noted that the local news was on. That meant less than an hour before Veronica would return. Rose took the plastic comb off of the table and ran it through her thick golden hair, trying to make herself look a little more presentable to her new friend.

“My friend,” she said aloud, smiling at the thought. She thought about the way she had cried so hard earlier and how good it felt to be held by Veronica. In her arms, she felt safe, cared for, comforted. Strangely, Rose found herself wishing for that feeling again, to be held in those strong arms, to smell the light scent of perfume on the tall woman’s tanned neck, to feel the compassion and tenderness within her touch and voice. Rose still did not understand why Veronica had chosen to befriend her but she was grateful that she had.

Wheel of Fortune was half over when Rose was treated to the sight of Veronica entering the room, a small bag full of delightfully smelling food in one hand, the ever present attache in the other. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” the young woman replied, happily sniffing the air as Veronica set the bag on the bed tray and, after tossing her leather bomber jacket across the back of the chair and setting the attache on the floor, took her usual seat next to the bed. “Smells wonderful.”

“Did you save room? I’ve got shrimp chow mein and boneless barbecued spare ribs,” Ronnie said while pulling the white boxes out of the bag along with two sets of plastic utensils.

“When it comes to food, I always have room,” Rose replied, taking the plastic fork offered to her. Her legs were throbbing but somehow the pain seemed to be diminished by the presence of her new friend.

“They didn’t give me any bowls or plates so we’ll just have to share,” Veronica said as she opened the boxes to reveal steaming hot food. “I didn’t know what you liked but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with the ribs.”

“I’ve never had shrimp chow mein but yeah, the ribs won’t last long.” Her fork was already headed for the box.

“Oh, you’ll have to try it. It’s really good.” She pulled out a forkful of the chow mein and put it into her mouth, drawing air in at the same time to try and counteract the burning hot temperature of the food. Rose was making quick work of the barbecued pork ribs, pushing several small pieces of meat into her mouth and humming with delight.

“Oh, this is sooo good,” she mumbled around the mouthful of pork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’ve even got fortune cookies for dessert.” Since Rose did not think anything of talking with food in her mouth, Veronica relaxed and did the same. “I didn’t have time to stop anywhere for dinner so I figured I’d pick some up and have it here.”

“Oh, I’m glad you did. This is delicious,” Rose said. “Thank you.” She pulled the box of chow mein close to her mouth and pulled out a forkful of vegetables and shrimp. “Oh, this is good.”

“Told you,” Veronica smiled, pleased that her choices were so well received. “So did you rest well? I’m sorry I had to leave but I had some matters to take care of at the office.”

“Is everything all right? You’re helping me isn’t causing any problems, is it?” Rose asked with concern, not wanting to do anything to add stress to her new friend.

“No Rose, my problems are with one of the divisions.” She set her fork down and gave a polite burp. “Oh, that was good. I’ve forgotten how tasty Chinese food was.” The theme music for Jeopardy began on the television followed by the host introducing the contestants. “So you didn’t answer me. Did you have a good rest?”

“Yes, I slept very well, thanks.” She turned to catch the deep blue eyes of the older woman.

“Thanks for staying until I fell asleep.”

The nurse returning interrupted their picnic. She took one look at the two empty boxes and the guilty looks on the women’s faces and frowned. “You really shouldn’t be bringing food into the hospital,” she chastised. “Miss Grayson, you’re not on any special diets, are you?”

“No. I’m sorry. I asked her to bring it,” Rose said, trying to take the blame.

“In the future you really should stick to the food we serve. Our nutritionists work hard to design a meal…”

“Who is Abraham Lincoln,” Rose blurted, her attention on the show and not on the lecture she was receiving.

“Naw, it was Johnson.”

“No. He didn’t take office in February, he took it in April.” The host verified that Rose’s answer was correct complete with the dates that the presidential succession took place. The nurse looked at the two women focused on the television and gave up her attempt to explain why the Chinese food was not as good for a patient as hospital food. She left the room knowing full well where she was going to go on her dinner break.

Just as the theme music was ending the announcement came over the loudspeakers that visiting hours were over. “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Veronica said reluctantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stood up and picked up her jacket. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into the pocket and pulled out a business card and pen. “Let me leave you my number in case you want to call or if you want me to bring you anything.” She scribbled her private phone number down on the back of the card and set it down on the bed tray before picking up the empty food boxes and bag. “Really, if you want or need anything, just give me a call. I’m usually up until eleven.” She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on the blanket before donning her bomber jacket. “Rest well, Rose. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Trust me, I’d much rather be here than there. I’ll be by sometime after breakfast. Remember what I said. Call me whenever you want to, even if it’s just to talk.” Just to be sure, Veronica pushed the phone a bit closer on the side table.

“Thanks. Good night, Veronica.”

“Hey, call me Ronnie. All my friends do,” she said with a smile.

“Ronnie. Good night, drive carefully.” Rose did not notice the look that flashed across the older woman’s face before being covered with a fake smile.

“Good night, Rose.”

Ronnie was curled up in bed with Tabitha laying next to her, when the phone rang. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was almost eleven. “Hello?”

“Um…hi, it’s Rose. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“No, no you’re not calling too late at all.” She sat up, much to Tabitha’s displeasure. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I um…I guess I just wanted to…see how Tabitha was,” came the lame excuse. Ronnie smiled, propping a pillow behind her back and leaning against the oak headboard.

“The purr machine is fine. You want to say hi to her? She seems to think that wherever I am is a good place for her to be.” Without waiting for an answer she put the phone near the cat. “Say hi to Mommy, Tabitha.” She held it there for a few seconds before putting the receiver back to her ear. “Did you hear her purring?”

“Yeah.” Ronnie could feel the smile through the phone and in turn smiled herself. “Is there anything you want me to bring tomorrow? I’ll probably be there around ten or so.”

“Um…if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, do you think you could check my mail for me?”

“Damn, I completely forgot about that. I’ll have to stop at the post office and put a forwarding address in for you before that jerk Cecil starts going through your mail.”

“Oh…I don’t know where you could have it forwarded to.”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. But yeah, I’ll swing by there tomorrow and see if you’ve gotten anything.”

“I’d really appreciate it.” There was a momentary silence before Rose continued. “Ronnie?”

“Yeah?”

“Um…sleep well, okay?” That caused the executive to smile again.

“You too, Rose. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

“Night.” She waited a few seconds before pushing the off button on the phone and putting it back in the charger on her night stand. Tabitha crawled onto her chest and began trying to imprint her paw marks on Ronnie’s internal organs. “Oof, I don’t think so, Missy,” she said, gently pushing the cat back onto the bed and receiving a dejected meow in response. “Come on, I’ve got a lot of things to take care of tomorrow. It’s a huge bed. There’s plenty of room without you having to be right on top of me.” Nonetheless, the black-haired beauty ended up falling asleep with the purring feline curled up against her.

The alarm went off at six as usual, announcing the start to Ronnie’s day. “Mrrow?”

“In a minute,” she replied sleepily, throwing the blankets off and sticking her feet into the soft blue slippers waiting next to the bed. With eyes half closed, she trudged into her bathroom. Returning a few minutes later, teeth brushed and bladder emptied, she stripped off her sweats and donned her light gray spandex workout suit before heading for the basement.

Ronnie’s private gym was the envy of any fitness junkie. With the exception of the room that held the furnace and water heater, the rest of the basement was devoted to her myriad of benches, machines, and mats. Growing up in the house that was now hers and hers alone, Ronnie had often dreamed of renovating the once musty basement into a place where she could just be herself, pumping iron and working up a healthy sweat. Her goal was accomplished with the private gym. The room was brightly lit with overhead fluorescent fixtures and enhanced by the walls of mirrors. She grabbed a fresh towel from the shelf, turned on the stereo, and headed for the stair climber to get warmed up.

Duran Duran blared through speakers placed throughout the large room while Ronnie pushed her calves and thighs to the limits on the stair climber. In her own private haven, no one could hear her singing to the music, see the sweat forming on her brow, neck and chest, or notice the way she pushed herself. She prided herself on her fit body and strength but both required constant maintenance. Twenty minutes climbing stairs that never went anywhere and she moved on to the next piece of equipment, taking the time to tie her hair up to keep it off her face and the back of her neck. She checked the amount of weights on the bar before lying down on the bench, pulling the bar off of its rest, and bringing it down to her chest. She wiggled her fingers to make certain her hands were in the proper position and began her grueling repetitions, pushing the barbell up to maximum height before lowering back down to her chest. Then it was off to the leg press, the crunch machine for her abdominals, the forearm grips, then the skiing machine for a good overall workout. By the time the CD was finished, Ronnie was a mass of well-earned sweat and muscles that begged for a break. She threw the soaked towel into the hamper near the door and made her way back to her bedroom where she peeled the sweat covered spandex from her body and entered her bathroom. Her showerhead sent pulses of hot water against her body, massaging while cleaning. Ten minutes with the hair dryer and Ronnie was refreshed and ready to face whatever the day had to offer.

Snow had fallen during the night, covering the city with a light coating of white. The bright blue Cherokee made its way up the narrow Albany streets, fighting the rest of the Friday morning traffic. She found a parking space on Morris Street and carefully made her way up the stairs to retrieve Rose’s mail. She picked through it, planning on leaving the junk mail for Cecil to deal with when one small envelope caught her attention. She tucked it into the inside pocket of her bomber and returned to the warmth of her sport vehicle. Only then did she pull it out and examine the return address. D. Bickering, RR 3 Box 4120, Cobleskill. Cobleskill, known more for its agricultural college than anything else, was a small village over an hour away from Albany. It was thought of as being mostly farmland, although there were a fair number of residents in the area. The overwhelming majority was either farmers or people who were willing to travel forty minutes or more to get to work each day, so far from any real cities was the village. Ronnie shoved the letter back into her pocket and put the Jeep into gear, determined to get to the hospital and hand the letter to Rose before the urge to go home and steam the envelope open got the best of her. She desperately wanted to know how the mysterious Delores Bickering fit into Rose’s life and why the young woman with no money was writing checks to this person.

Ronnie arrived just as the nurse finished checking Rose’s vitals. As expected, the young woman’s face showed the pain that the drugs could not completely erase. “Hey you,” she said softly, drawing Rose’s attention from the nurse to her.

“Hi,” the blonde woman smiled. “Looks like the snow got you.”

“Just a little,” Ronnie replied, brushing the melting flakes off her dark hair and the shoulders of her soft brown jacket. “Should I come back in a little while?”

“I’m almost done,” the nurse said without looking up from her task. She stood and made several notations on Rose’s chart. “There. All finished for now.” She peeled the latex gloves off into the red waste container. “Doctor Barnes will be in to see you in a little while,” she said before leaving the two women alone.

Curiosity won out the instant they were alone. Ronnie pulled the envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Rose. “Here’s your mail.”

The smile that had been on the young woman’s face melted at the sight of the writing on the envelope. She opened it and read the words written on spiral bound notebook paper while Ronnie set her attache down on the floor and hung her coat over the back of the chair before taking her usual seat next to the bed. Rose was quiet as she finished reading the letter and put it back into the envelope. “Could you do me a favor and bring me my checkbook tomorrow?”

“Is something wrong? Anything I can help with?”

“No, it’s just something I have to take care of.” She could not bring herself to meet the piercing blue eyes looking at her. “I hate to ask, but could you spare an envelope and a stamp too?”

“Of course, Rose,” Ronnie replied, still dying with curiosity about the contents of the letter.

“Look…if you have a debt that you need help paying…” She regretted the words instantly, thinking that her new friend would be offended.

“No, it’s not that. It’s from someone I used to live with.” Rose’s head never lifted up and her whole mannerism changed, withdrawing into herself.

“A boyfriend?”

“A foster mother. I lived with her for about two years. She took care of me when no one else would.” The blonde woman’s shoulders slumped and she let out a defeated sigh. “She’s had a hard time since the state took away all the kids she was caring for. You don’t want to hear about this,” she said, giving her new friend a way out if she wanted it.

“Sure I do,” Ronnie said, reaching over to clasp the smaller hand within her own. “That letter seemed to really bother you. Care to share?” She expected Rose to elaborate a little about Delores but was surprised to find the letter pushed into her hand.

“I think that will pretty much explain everything.”

Ronnie looked at Rose before opening the envelope and reading the letter.

Rose,

I haven’t heard from you for a while. Things are really hard here. I can barely keep a roof over my head much less anything else. The idiots at social services don’t understand nothing I tell them. I know your busy with your life and don’t have time for an old lady like me but you have to remember that I took care of you when no one else would. I opened my home to you, gave you food and made sure you got to go to school. You’ve been good about trying to help me but I really need more than what you’ve been sending. You know it costs a lot to feed someone else’s kid. Without me you would have starved. I was there when you needed someone to take care of you. I’ll be looking forward to whatever pit…pittnce…whatever little amount you can send me.

Your auntie Delores

Ronnie folded the note back up and shoved it into the envelope, trying to keep her temper in check, which was quickly becoming hard to do. Setting the envelope down on the bed tray, she gripped the side rails of the bed so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She took several breaths to try and calm down before feeling green eyes looking at her expectantly. “You don’t owe her, Rose,” she said through gritted teeth, unable to bring her head up to meet the gaze.

“I feel like I do,” the young woman said sadly. “When I was living with her, there were four of us. She always made it clear that the state didn’t give her enough to take care of us.”

“Bullshit.” Ronnie stormed out of her seat and went to the window, looking out at the light snow falling. “I have no right to tell you what to do with your money, Rose, but she’s just using you, playing on your sympathy. As long as you keep giving her money, money that you can’t afford to spare, she’ll just keep coming back for more.” She turned to look at the young woman. “Did she once thank you for the money you’ve sent so far? No, she just said that you needed to send more. She is guilting you into giving her money. Whatever debt you think you owe her, it’s been paid long ago. Now she’s just sucking you dry.” Not wanting to upset Rose any more than she was, Ronnie returned to her seat and lowered her voice, “Not once did she ask how you were doing, not even one kind word. That letter was nothing more than ‘send me money’. You don’t deserve to have your kindness taken advantage of like that, Rose. You’re too good a person to be treated like that.”

“She’s the closest thing I have to family,” the young woman protested, albeit weakly. She had never shared this problem with anyone else before and was surprised to see her friend’s reaction. Rose had heard for so long about how she owed Delores for taking care of her that she believed it to be a debt that she would never be able to repay, regardless of her personal feelings about it. To have someone voice the feelings that had been buried deep inside her was something she did not expect.

“You don’t need family like that. You deserve better,” Ronnie said. She gave a resigned sigh. “I told you I would bring you your checkbook and I will. I’ll also bring you the stamp and envelope but I really wish you’d think about this before you send her any more money.” She reached out and took Rose’s hand in her own. “Promise me that you’ll give this some thought first, okay?”

“Okay,” the young woman replied, drawing a smile from Ronnie. “Let’s talk about something else instead, okay?”

“Sure, name it.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your family? I’d love to hear about them.”

“It’s not as interesting as you might think.” Ronnie was going to try and worm her way out of it but the expectant look on Rose’s face changed her mind. “All right, but I’ll warn you, it’s pretty boring.” She shifted in her seat, wishing she had worn jeans instead of her dress slacks. “I’m the oldest of three. There’s me, Susan, and Tommy. Susan is the complete opposite of me. She runs Cartwright Insurance. She’s married to Jack; he’s a lawyer downtown.” She grinned as if sharing some big secret. “Susan wears more makeup than Tammy Faye Baker and she thinks she’s a knockout. But she can add numbers in her head faster than a calculator and brought the insurance division up from average earnings to being one of our leading revenue producers. I have to warn you though, don’t ever let her catch you alone at a party. My sister is the biggest gatherer of gossip and information in the state. Once she gets hold of you she won’t let go until she knows everything down to your blood type.”

“What about your brother?” Rose asked, watching as the smile left Ronnie’s face.

“Tommy is a lost soul. He’s twenty-five but he still acts like a teenager. It took him six years and three colleges to get his Bachelor’s because he wouldn’t apply himself. The family insisted that I put him in charge of something so I gave him the Real Estate division.” She sighed. “I figured it was doing so well that he couldn’t do anything to mess it up. Now we’re posting the worst growth since the recession and he acts like it doesn’t matter. That’s why I had to go back to the office yesterday. I hate irresponsibility.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Barnes. “How are you today, Miss Grayson?” she asked.

“Same as yesterday, I guess,” Rose replied. “Oh, Doctor Barnes, this is my friend Ronnie. Ronnie, this is Doctor Barnes.” She did not see the smile form on Veronica’s face at the title bestowed on her.

“Hello,” the physician said. She looked at Rose’s chart for a moment and made a notation. “Well, Miss Grayson, it looks like everything is healing up just fine.” She set the chart down and moved to the head of the bed to check the stitches on Rose’s cheek. “The bones are properly set and I see no reason why you can’t go home.”

“Home? But…” She looked fearfully to Ronnie for help.

“How can you send her home? She can’t even walk yet,” the black-haired woman said, falling into the role of protector easily. It seemed a natural thing to do when it came to Rose.

“Look Miss…”

“Cartwright, Veronica Cartwright.”

“Miss Cartwright,” the doctor corrected, unimpressed with the tall woman’s name. “There’s nothing more that we can do for her right now. Her body is reacting well to the treatment. There’s nothing more to do except wait for the bones to heal.”

“But she can’t walk yet,” Ronnie protested.

“She won’t be able to walk for the better part of a year,” the doctor replied. “There’s no sign of infection, the thinning agents have kept any clots from forming and the swelling has gone down to an acceptable level. At this point there’s nothing else the hospital can do except give her a bed. I’ll write her a prescription for the pain and she should come back next Friday to have the stitches on her face removed. At that time I’ll look at her legs and ankle then we’ll see where we go from there.”

Rose’s breathing increased and she looked ready to cry. Ronnie quickly leaned over the bed, blocking the young woman’s view of the bearer of bad news. “Rose,” she whispered. “Let me take care of this. I promise everything will be okay.”

“I can’t…I don’t…”

“Shh. Let me handle this. Trust me.” She spoke softly, as if calming a small child. “Do you trust me?” She received a shaky nod. “I promise everything will be fine.”

“But…”

“Trust me, Rose.” She maintained her gaze, letting deep blue search out and calm green, silently trying to convey that everything would be all right.

Finally the younger woman let out a heavy breath and nodded, placing her life in the hands of the woman who seemed so willing to help her. As scary as the prospect seemed, there was a comfort in knowing that Ronnie was there for her.

“What do I need to know about caring for her?” Veronica asked, turning her attention to the doctor.

“I’ll have the nurse show you how to properly bathe her to prevent infections. I suggest you get a home health aide or a private nurse if you can afford it.” That comment earned a raised eyebrow from the woman who had donated six figures to the hospital last year. “The important thing is making sure the wounds are kept clean.” She made another notation on the chart. “I’ll have an instruction sheet prepared to explain exactly what needs to be done each day.”

“Fine,” Ronnie said, her mind already figuring out which room would be turned into a recovery room. It was an unexpected turn of events, but one that she was able to handle. She dimly noted it was not guilt making her open up her sanctuary to Rose, it was something stronger—concern and caring. Somewhere in the course of trying to make up for her mistake, Veronica Cartwright had begun to care. “Whatever it takes to make her better.”

“I’ll have the nurse give you all the details. I’ll sign the discharge papers before I start the rest of my rounds.” She turned to look at her patient. “I’m sorry, Miss Grayson, I’ve heard you’ve become rather fond of our food.” Her attempt at humor was not received as well as she hoped, earning only a weak smile from the blonde. “Well, if there was any way I could justify keeping you here, I would.”

“I know,” Rose replied. “Thank you.”

“Don’t forget to make an appointment with our outpatient clinic to have those stitches removed next Friday. Make certain they schedule the appointment with me and not with one of the physician’s assistants. I want to take a look at those legs too.”

“I will.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ronnie said firmly, leaving no doubt in the young doctor’s mind that her patient would be well taken care of.

It was a busy afternoon for Veronica. Her portable cell phone was constantly on, draining the battery down enough the executive had to resort to using the phone in Rose’s room to complete her preparations. She called a surgical supply company to purchase a hospital bed, wheelchair, and various other things that the nurse insisted were necessary for Rose to recuperate properly. But no matter how hard she tried, Ronnie was unable to get them to deliver the bed that day. In frustration she told them to just deliver the other items and called several furniture stores until she found one that sold adjustable beds. Even that took some work to convince them to send a truck out with it that day. Then she had to call Maria to let her know what was going on. She explained to her trusted housekeeper which room they were to go in and what items needed to be moved in order to make room for the new furniture. The next call had been to a private ambulance service to arrange for transportation from the hospital to her house for Rose. The remaining calls had been to the various agencies in an attempt to get a private nurse to come in on a long term, full time basis, then back to Maria again to fill her in on the latest developments.

“Ronnie?” Rose called gently, drawing the tall woman’s attention.

“I’ve got to go, Maria. Call me on the Jeep car phone if there’s any problems.” She hung the phone up and sat on the edge of the bed. “I guess everything’s ready. Now we’re just waiting for the ambulance to arrive.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Rose whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

“Shh…you don’t need to be worrying about things like that.”

“But no one’s ever…I mean, it’s so much…” Her eyes welled up with the heartfelt feeling.

“Hey, it’s no problem, remember? I promised that I’d take care of you.” Ronnie reached out and caught a tear before it could roll down Rose’s cheek. “Hey, none of that. Tabitha misses you and this is the perfect way to make sure that she has someone else to get her attention from so I can get some work done.” She received the barest of smiles. “Besides, I’ve been alone for a long time. It’ll be nice to have the company.”

Part 3

As much as Ronnie wanted to ride in the ambulance with Rose to provide her comfort, there was the Jeep to consider and the idea of leaving it in Albany overnight was an unpleasant one. She had not gone near the Porsche since the accident, although she did notice that Hans had been over the day before to start the repairs. That left her with either the vehicle that did well in the snow or her prized 1967 Mustang to get around with and the Mustang would never see the salted winter roads of Albany if she could help it. Reluctantly she chose to let Rose ride alone in the ambulance while she followed behind in the Jeep.

The drive from Albany to Loudonville where Ronnie’s home was located normally took less than fifteen minutes. The black-haired woman gave the ambulance driver a warning that he was not on a life or death call, and he had better do his best to avoid hitting any potholes on his way out of Albany, even if it meant it took twice as long to get there. Loudonville was an area filled with old money and old homes, most dating back to the early sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It was often considered a rich suburb of Albany even though it was a separate entity altogether. The only relation Loudonville had with the Capital City was they were within the same county. People who lived in the prestigious village made it clear they were not residents of Albany in any way, shape, or form.

The ride to her home was the most agonizing drive of Ronnie’s life. The roads were typical of early December—slush and ice chunks made the ride bumpy enough but with the added factor of potholes, the ambulance found itself bouncing around far more than usual. Knowing that every bump meant pain for Rose, Veronica yelped when the ambulance hit a particularly large pothole just as they were leaving Albany and crossing over into Loudonville. The green and white ambulance bounced and shook over the uneven road, turning Ronnie into a nervous wreck before they finally hit the smooth streets of her hometown and turned onto Cartwright Drive.

Maria opened the door and stepped out just as the ambulance pulled up the driveway, followed closely by the bright blue Jeep. Normally Ronnie would use her remote to open the appropriate garage door and put her vehicle away but she had something more important to do. She parked in the large parking area in front of the garages and waited for the back doors of the ambulance to open. She did her best to stay out of the way as they brought Rose out, noting that beyond a few tear streaks she seemed to be none the worse for wear. “And I thought the hospital was cold,” the young woman commented, the threadbare blanket and sheet doing nothing to stop the biting wind that had picked up.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be inside and toasty warm soon enough,” Ronnie replied, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Maria had the double doors open to give them maximum room to get through with the stretcher and its precious cargo.

Flat on her back, the first thing Rose noticed when they entered the large structure was the high ceilings, dark beams against a cream colored background. She turned her head and her eyes widened at the sights. The living room was huge, easily larger than her whole apartment had been. When she felt the change in height she realized that part of the living room was sunken, something she had seen in magazines at the library but never actually seen in someone’s home. The wall to wall carpeting was the same cream color as the ceiling, thick and plush without a single sign of matting or wear. Large dark wood cabinets lined one wall; Rose guessed them to be either cherry or mahogany. A set of stairs took up another wall. They reminded her of the stairs from the television showThe Brady Bunch,except that instead of having a lower landing, these stairs curved around at the bottom. The railing was also the same deep color as the cabinets and ceiling beams. She heard Ronnie cursing somewhere in the background but could not locate her no matter how she turned her head. Then she saw her exit from a room at the far end and race up the stairs. Maria stepped into her line of vision and Rose got her first real glimpse of the housekeeper. “Hello.”

“Well hello there, you poor thing,” the housekeeper replied. “Ronnie had to run upstairs to get some sheets. She’ll be right back down.”

“My name is Rose.” She held her out her hand.

“I’m Maria, child,” she replied, taking the offered hand and shaking it. “Once you’re settled in I’ll make you something good to eat. I’m sure you’re sick of that awful hospital food.”

“That’s very kind of you but I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Oh, here comes Ronnie. I’d better go get those sheets on the bed so you can get comfortable.”

Maria took the linens from Ronnie and disappeared into the far room while the tall woman went to Rose’s side. “Sorry about that,” she said.

“Ronnie, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you cover my feet? They’re freezing.” A second later she felt large warm hands clasp around her ice cold toes, the only part of her lower extremities not encased in a plaster cast.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Ronnie looked up and glared at the ambulance attendants while adjusting the sheet and blanket to cover the exposed feet. Maria stepped out of the room a few minutes later, announcing that everything was all set. “We’ll get you in bed and then I’ll run upstairs and get you a pair of nice warm socks,” Ronnie said before backing out of the way as the attendants took hold of either end of the stretcher.

It only took a quick look around for Rose to realize that the room she was being put into was Ronnie’s office. Two tall file cabinets were pressed up against the wall, apparently to make room for the queen sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. A computer desk with the largest monitor she had ever seen was against a near wall and an immense television took up the remaining wall where she could see it comfortably.

“Okay Mike, you ready?” The one attendant asked, gathering the sheet beneath Rose in his hands. “On three,” Mike replied. “One…two…three.” They easily lifted her up but in the process of putting her back down, one corner slipped out of his hands, causing the heavily casted right leg to flop down onto the bed. The jolt sent a rush of pain through Rose and the subsequent yelp brought Ronnie over to her side. “Sorry Miss,” Mike said. “We need to roll you onto your side now so we can get the sheet out from under you.”

“No,” Ronnie said. “I’ll get it.” There was clearly anger in her tone as well as concern that Rose not be injured any further. With infinite care she worked the sheet out from under the young woman until it finally came free. She tossed it to Mike’s partner. “Is there something I need to sign?”

“No Ma’am. You’ll receive a bill from us in a few days.”

“Fine. Is there anything else?” Without waiting for an answer she nodded at Maria, who was standing in the doorway, “Maria will see you to the door.”

“It was an accident,” Rose said once the attendants were gone. Ronnie was busily reviewing the instructions on how to operate the new bed.

“It was a stupid accident. He should have been more careful. What if you hadn’t been over the bed?” She reached down and wrapped her hand over Rose’s cold toes. “Let me get some socks for you. I’ll be right back. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, thank you. I can wait until dinner.”

“Uh huh. Well, I know I could use a cup of coffee. Do you want something warm or cold to drink?”

“Um…” The look in the deep blue eyes told her that she had better pick one or the other. “Warm, please.”

“Here’s the controller for the bed.” She handed the white plastic device to Rose along with the instruction booklet. “It comes with heat and massage. Just press these buttons if you want to turn them on. These control the foot and the head of the bed.” She watched as the young woman experimented, raising the head up until she was at a forty-five degree angle. “I’ll let you get used to it and I’ll be right back with those socks.”

Ronnie returned a few minutes later with a pair of thick white socks and a purring pile of orange and white fluff. “Look who I found hiding in the mud room,” she said, setting Tabitha down on the bed and smiling when she saw Rose’s arms wrap around her precious kitten.

“Hi Honey…I missed you,” the young woman cooed to her contented cat. “You’ve gained weight.”

“Mrrow?”

“Did you miss me?” She hugged Tabitha again, unmindful of the tears that spilled out of her own eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered to Ronnie. “Thank you so much for taking care of her for me. I can’t tell you how much…” Her voice broke off and she gave up trying to speak.

“I know,” the dark-haired woman said softly. “And you’re welcome.” A week ago she would not have believed that it could mean so much to anyone to have their pet taken care of but now Ronnie understood just how important the four legged feline was to Rose.

“Hey, let’s get these socks on you.” She moved down to the end of the bed, still watching the tearful reunion between Rose and Tabitha. “These were the warmest I could find,” she said as she untucked the blanket. She gathered the cotton material up in her fingers and carefully slid it over the small toes of Rose’s feet, then up over the cast-covered foot and ankle. With the heel in place, the toe portion of the socks flopped over, clearly showing the difference in the sizes of the two women’s feet. “Sorry about that. I’ll get you some socks that fit you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ronnie. These will be fine, if you don’t mind me wearing your socks. Besides, they have to be big or they won’t fit over the cast.” The heat emanating from the bed took more than just the chill out of Rose, it eased the pain in her legs and relaxed her to the point where her eyelids felt very heavy and she was unable to stifle a yawn. “Would you mind if I rested for a little while?”

“Of course not, Rose, when you’re tired, you just tell me.” Ronnie looked over at the computer, groaning inside at the thought of the work that had been piling up all week waiting for her. “Will the keyboard bother you if I do some work?”

“Oh no. Go right ahead. It won’t bother me at all.” Rose did not know if it would or not but she was not about to tell Ronnie that she could not do her work in her own office in her own home. Tabitha seemed quite content to lie down on the heated bed and soon fell asleep.

Sleep did not come as easily for Rose, however. The clackity-clack of the keyboard drew her attention to Ronnie working hard only a few feet away. There were computers at the public library and she knew how to use them to look up the location of books but little else. Even from this distance she could see that Ronnie was looking over some kind of spreadsheet. Though the sculptured face was turned away from her, Rose had no doubt that the head of Cartwright Corporation was frowning. A pencil with the end well chewed found its way into Ronnie’s mouth again and again. When it was not being gnawed at, it was being bounced up and down on the desk, an apparent nervous habit. Every so often an incongruous expletive would spew forth from the cultured woman’s mouth and the screen on the computer would change from one spreadsheet to another.

Ronnie stood up and walked over to the file cabinets, pulling out wads of computer generated reports. “What the hell are you doing, Tommy?” she asked the air before returning to her seat and comparing the information on the paper to what the screen was telling her. Through half-closed eyelids Rose continued to watch her new friend struggle to make sense of what she was looking at. Several times Ronnie leaned back in her leather chair and let out a frustrated sigh. It was those times that Rose could see her face, brow furrowed with thought, lips pursed, jaw clenched. The young woman finally fell asleep wishing that she could do something to ease Ronnie’s problems the way the gentle woman had eased hers.

Ronnie shut the monitor off and turned in her seat to find Rose sleeping, Tabitha by her side. The orange and white feline was busily cleaning her paws and did not even bother to look up when the executive left the room.

“How is the poor dear?” Maria asked when Ronnie entered the kitchen.

“She’s sleeping right now. I’ll wake her up when dinner’s ready.” She reached into the cupboard and retrieved a glass before taking a beer out of the fridge. “I really appreciate you staying late today to do that.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, Ronnie, you know that,” the older woman said. “What happened to her?”

“She was hit by a car. She has no family and no one else to take care of her. She’s going to stay here until she’s completely healed and I don’t need my mother and sister knowing about this,” Ronnie warned, wanting to avoid any family discussions.

“I take it she is Tabitha’s mother?”

“Yeah.” She took a sip of beer and sniffed at the oven. “Smells good.”

“Uh huh and it will be good once it’s done. Don’t even think about sneaking in there and taking any.” Maria remembered far too many times when forkfuls of dinner were found missing by the time she removed it from the oven. “You didn’t tell me what she liked so I made a pot roast.”

“Oooh. Sounds good.” Ronnie’s eyes lit up. “Hope you made plenty.” She took another sip of beer and looked around at the rows of cabinets. “Do you know where that tray is that we used when Mom was sick?”

“Of course I do. Unlike you, I know my way around the kitchen.”

“Hey, I know where things are. I found the beer with no problem.” Ronnie grinned.

“Always the smart aleck, aren’t you, Veronica Louise?”

“Only with you, Maria,” the tall woman replied, leaning over and giving her beloved housekeeper a peck on the cheek and ruffling the salt-and-pepper hair. “I’ll take my dinner in the office with Rose. If you need help just give me a yell.”

“Considering that I served your entire family when everyone lived here I think bringing two dinners into the office won’t be a problem.” She opened the oven door and poked at the roast and potatoes with a large fork. “Now you go see to your guest. Dinner will be at least another half hour.”

Once she was alone again in the kitchen, the smile left Maria’s face. She walked over to the sliding glass doors and peered out into the night. The large sodium lamp illuminated the garage…and the battered Porsche sitting inside it. “Oh Veronica…” she whispered. “What have you done?”

“That was delicious,” Rose said for the umpteenth time, putting her fork down on the empty plate. “I never cared much for carrots but those were terrific.”

“I think Maria puts some sugar on them while they’re cooking,” Ronnie replied, taking the tray off of the blonde’s lap and setting it on the desk. “You ready for dessert?”

“Dessert?” Green eyes lit up.

“Dessert. I know she has fresh brownies out there and if I look real hard there might be some ice cream to go with them.” The look of utter delight on Rose’s face brought a smile to her own.

“You keep that up and Maria will make you as big as a house. Nothing pleases her more than seeing people enjoying her cooking.” She glanced at the young woman still in her blue and white hospital gown. “Of course you look like you could use a little meat on your bones, so that might not be such a bad thing. While I’m at it, I’ll get you something a little more comfortable to wear than that thing.”

“Oh, well I guess it is a little drafty,” Rose replied, tugging the material up over her shoulder.

“I don’t think I have any pants that are big enough to go over those legs but I’m sure I have a nightshirt somewhere. I’ll be right back.” She picked up the empty plates and left the room.

“Meat on my bones?” Rose queried Tabitha once Ronnie left. “I feel like I’ve gained ten pounds from all the food I’ve eaten the last few days.”

“Mrrow?”

“Yeah, you look like you’ve been enjoying some of Maria’s cooking too,” she grunted when the orange and white cat climbed over her thigh to rest on her lap. “I don’t understand it.” She scratched absently behind Tabitha’s ears while voicing her thoughts. “She finds me on the street, takes me to the hospital, and that should have been it. Instead she takes care of both of us like we were the most important things in the world to her.”

“Mrrow?”

“Oh, heaven forbid I stop scratching you, your majesty.” She resumed her gentle scratching.

“You I can understand.” She lifted Tabitha up to her chest and nuzzled the soft fur. “You’re so adorable. Anyone who sees you falls in love with you.” She listened to the soft purring for a minute, taking comfort in holding her precious kitty. “Nope, I don’t understand it at all. I’m grateful but I don’t understand it.”

“Here we go,” Ronnie said as she entered the room. Each hand held a dessert plate with a large brownie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream pierced by a spoon while a pale maroon nightshirt was slung over her shoulder. She set the plates down on the desk and handed the nightshirt to Rose.

“Dartmouth?” The young woman asked, holding the shirt up in front of her.

“Yeah. I got my Bachelor’s from there and my Master’s from Stanford,” Ronnie said as she handed one plate to Rose. “It’s old and faded but I still love it.”

“What are your degrees in?”

“Mmm, good brownie. Let’s see…I have a Bachelor’s in Business Administration with a minor in Marketing and my Master’s is in Business Management.”

“No wonder you’re the president of your company.”

“Well, that and I’m the oldest,” Ronnie grinned. “When it comes to Cartwright Corp., nepotism will get you everywhere.”

“I’m sure it took more than that to get where you are,” Rose replied, spooning the tasty dessert into her mouth.

“It did, but if I were with any other company I’d just be middle management. My father died less than three years after I graduated and I took over the reins then.”

“Oh. Were you close to your father?”

“I guess.” She shoved the last piece of brownie into her mouth. “I was the oldest and for a long time the apple of his eye. You know, it’s funny, no matter how busy he was, he always found the time to attend every parent-teacher conference, every play, even made all of my little league games. Not many men in his position would do that.”

“Sounds like he loved you very much.”

“He did. I was a hell-raiser and he was always trying to keep me out of trouble.” Ronnie set her plate down and leaned back in her leather chair. “I remember more than one time when one of Mother’s antique vases would get broken with my roughhousing and he would take the blame.” She smiled at the memory. “Only once did I get hurt and he couldn’t cover for me. I was sliding down that banister out there and fell off. Broke my arm good. Mother grounded me for the whole summer.”

“If you grew up here, why doesn’t your mother still live here?”

“Well, after Dad died, she did live here for a while. Eventually she started spending more and more time with her canasta friends. They all live in a retirement community nearby. She figured that if she was spending all of her time there why not just live there, so we bought her a condo and I took over the family home. It makes sense, though. She is pushing sixty and doesn’t need such a big place anyway.”

“Your sister and brother didn’t want the house?”

“They didn’t have a choice. I’m the oldest. That’s how it works in our family. You done with that?”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” Rose handed over the now empty plate.

“Besides,” Ronnie continued. “Susan and Jack have a nice house a few miles from here and Tommy seems to prefer apartments. If I hadn’t taken it, we probably would have put the place up for sale.” She stacked the two plates and swiveled around in her chair to face the large screen television. “So it’s almost ten. You tired or do you want to see what’s on?”

“No, I’m awake. That nap earlier helped.” Rose shifted and inhaled sharply. “I do think it’s time for another Percocet, though.”

“I’ll get it. You find something for us to watch.”

Tabitha was contentedly sleeping next to Rose, who continued to stare up at the ceiling. Ronnie had gone to bed a half-hour before, leaving the young woman alone with her thoughts. It surprised Rose to realize just how disappointed she was when her friend announced that she was going to bed. She had truly enjoyed the evening and the older woman’s constant attention. It also seemed that when Ronnie was around, her legs and ankle did not ache as much or drive her to tears quite as often. She thought back to what had happened just after they started watching the late news.

One wrong move sent agonizing pain through her and immediately Ronnie had been there. Ronnie, who held her tight, who whispered comforting words, who gently rocked her. Rose did not want that embrace to ever end. She wanted to continue to feel the warm skin against hers, to breathe in the scent of Ronnie’s perfume, to feel the rise and fall of the strong woman’s chest against her cheek. When Rose finally did let go, it was with great reluctance and a sense of loss. She adjusted the pillow behind her head and forced her eyes to close, but it did nothing to erase the feeling of Ronnie comforting her.

Upstairs, Ronnie was staring at her own ceiling. She did not want to leave Rose, but it would not have looked right for her to keep the still recovering woman up too late. She listened to the sounds of the night, the occasional truck going down the main road, the owls hooting in the distance. None of that interested her. What she was listening for was the soft, melodic sound of Rose’s voice calling out to her.

“Damn, I should have gotten an intercom system,” she muttered into the darkness. What if Rose needed help with the bedpan? What if she woke up and needed more Percocet? Was it safe to leave Tabitha with her? What if she walked across Rose’s legs? What if she was in pain again and needed to be held? Those and a dozen more questions passed through her mind, all convincing her that upstairs was not the right place to be. With the office door open to let Tabitha in and out in case she needed the litter box, surely there was no way that she would miss hearing Rose. But what if she did? What if Rose needed her and she did not hear her call? Yes, that was why she had to be closer to her…just in case she needed anything. Grabbing her pillows and blanket, Ronnie left her bedroom and headed downstairs.

Setting the bedding on the leather couch, she quietly crossed the room and peeked in on the sleeping woman. After satisfying herself that Rose was fine, Ronnie returned to the couch and laid down, sleep taking hold within minutes.

Ronnie was up and about by six o’clock. She returned her bedding to her room and changed into her spandex workout clothes before popping into the office to check on Rose. The young woman was still sleeping soundly so she felt safe in heading downstairs to get in her workout. However, what normally meant wall shaking decibels of 80’s music was changed to absolute silence lest she miss hearing Rose call out for her. What was normally twenty repetitions with each machine turned into ten and the skiing machine was ignored altogether. She ran back upstairs and checked in on the sleeping woman one more time before going to take a much needed shower. It was Saturday. There would be no sign of Maria who had the weekends off. It was up to Ronnie to figure out what to make for herself and Rose for breakfast.

As the steaming water rinsed the shampoo from her hair and the sweat from her body, Ronnie’s eyes closed and her mind drifted back to the fair-haired woman sleeping downstairs. There had been an almost guilty pleasure in holding her last night, knowing that she was the one responsible for the pain, yet also the one to provide comfort from that pain. She enjoyed holding Rose, burying her nose in the spun gold hair, wrapping her arms around the soft body, feeling the warm breath against her neck…

Ronnie’s eyes flew open and she looked down to discover her soapy hand fondling her own left breast. She quickly rinsed off, mentally chastising herself for fantasizing when she had much more important things to do.

Rose awoke to the sound of Ronnie entering the room, a plate full of pancakes and bacon in each hand. “I’m not as a good a cook as Maria, but at least I didn’t burn anything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

“Do you want coffee or tea?”

“Oh, coffee would be great,” Rose said happily.

“There’s a fresh pot made. Cream and sugar?”

“Just cream please.”

“One coffee, cream, no sugar coming right up.” She set her plate on the desk and Rose’s plate on the tray before placing the tray on the young woman’s lap. “We’ll have breakfast and then I’ll help you get cleaned up. The nurse won’t start until Monday but I think I can help you.”

“You know I really hate feeling helpless like this,” Rose said. “I mean, I can’t even lean forward without it hurting my legs. If I don’t think and wiggle my toes that’s even worse, not to mention the whole bedpan thing.” Her cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment.

Ronnie did not know what to say to that comment, knowing that if the roles were reversed she probably would not be as good about the whole situation. “I’ll be right back with the coffee and after breakfast I’ll see if I can find that Trivial Pursuit game.” She headed for the door only to be joined by Tabitha.

“Mrrow?”

“And I suppose you want your breakfast too?” She received her reply in the form of the feline rubbing against the leg of her sweatpants. “Come on, if you’re eating that means you won’t be bugging your mother for some of hers.”

Although Ronnie had helped Rose last night with the bedpan, the young woman was still highly self-conscious of having the rich and powerful woman helping her. Not a word was spoken as the pan was slipped under her, she did her duty, and Ronnie took it into the adjoining bathroom.Well at least I don’t have my period, Rose thought to herself, dreading the fact that it was only a week or so away. She had no idea how she was going to handle that when it came up.

“All right, I suppose we should get you cleaned up. Do you want a Percocet now or after?” Ronnie asked when she returned from the bathroom with a basin full of warm soapy water and a cloth.

“After. They put me to sleep too easily. Do you think we could cut the pills in half? I mean, I know that Doctor Barnes wants me to take them for the pain but I hate feeling so dopey all of the time.”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Ronnie replied, setting the container on the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll be as gentle as I can,” she promised.

Indeed the dark-haired woman was extremely gentle, as if afraid to cause the slightest amount of pain. “Okay, if I get your back can you get the rest of it?”

“Yeah.” Rose leaned forward and pulled the Dartmouth nightshirt up and off her body, laying it in front of her breasts. Firm fingers under the soapy washcloth worked their way across her back, drawing an unexpected groan from her lips.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, sorry. I guess my back hurts from lying on it so long.”

“I used to get the worst cricks in my back after studying all night during finals. My roommate was great at backrubs.” Ronnie’s mind briefly thought back to some of the other things Christine was good at. “Anyway,” she said, pushing the image from her mind, “She showed me what to do. Can you lean forward a little bit more?” The young woman complied and Ronnie put the washcloth aside. She shifted slightly to get a better position and began kneading the tight muscles with her long fingers.

“Oh, that feels good,” Rose murmured sleepily, leaning back into the gentle massage. It seemed that every ache, every knot in her back melted away under Ronnie’s touch. The soapy water made the strong fingers slide even easier across her skin. “You’re in the wrong line of work, Ronnie. You should have been a masseuse.”

“Is that so?” she murmured, her attention focused on the soft skin beneath her hands.

“Absolutely,” Rose groaned as firm pressure was placed on a particularly sore spot. “You’re gonna put me back to sleep if you keep that up.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” She picked up the washcloth, wrung it out, and cleaned off the rest of Rose’s back. “Okay, I’ll leave you to finish up while I look for Trivial Pursuit.”

Once Ronnie was out of the room, Rose set the shirt on her lap and washed the rest of her upper body and personal areas. She had just finished and was pulling the shirt over her head when the blue eyed woman returned. “I found…oh, sorry.” Ronnie shut the door quickly. “Let me know when you’re ready,” she called through the closed door, the sight of Rose’s firm breasts teasing her mind. That was one thing she did miss since putting in her own private gym. When she had been going to the local health club, there were lots of good-looking women running around the locker room in various stages of undress. It was easy for her to covertly eye their bodies and enjoy the sights without being noticed. Ronnie let out a sigh of disappointment at what she could not have…could never have again. Her experience at Stanford had seen to that.

“Okay,” Rose’s voice called out. She entered to find the bedridden woman’s upper body covered up by the Dartmouth nightshirt, her lower body hidden beneath the blankets. “You found it?”

“Yeah, sorry about barging in without knocking. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure you’ve seen half-naked women before.”

“Well, I still should have knocked.” Ronnie looked at the small tray. “Hmm…that’s not going to be big enough to play on.”

“You know, if you put the leg rests up on that wheelchair, I’m sure I could play at a table with you.”

“You think you’re ready for that?”

“Well, they put me in one to change the sheets on my bed at the hospital. I’m sure if we’re careful we could do it.”

“I don’t know, Rose. I don’t want to hurt you,” Ronnie said hesitantly.

“I’m in pain most of the time anyway. I don’t think it’ll make much difference.” She looked up at piercing blue eyes and smiled. “I really do want to play with you.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Besides, that way you can give me a tour.”

Ronnie hesitated for a moment, weighing the dangers of moving Rose and trusting that the young woman knew what her limits were. “All right, but if you feel tired or want to lie back down you tell me immediately, okay?”

“Okay.”

It required bringing the chair up against the bed and pulling Rose into it but they were able to do it with a minimum amount of discomfort. Fortunately, the renovations Ronnie had done when she took over the house included nice wide doorways. With the exception of the sunken part of the living room, there was no place Rose would not be able to go on the first floor. “Are you ready for your tour?” Ronnie asked after double-checking to make certain the afghan tucked under the fragile legs would not interfere with the wheels.

“Absolutely,” Rose replied, reaching for the wheels only to find that she was already being guided out of the room, Ronnie’s hands on the handles. The office was off the living room and now upright, Rose saw even more of the magnificent area. Classic oil paintings hung on the walls. An antique coat rack stood near the door along with an umbrella stand that looked far too elegant to hold an umbrella. Every piece of furniture matched, from the trim on the leather sofa to the end tables to the cabinets that lined the wall. “It’s beautiful,” Rose whispered in awe.

“It’s pompous,” Ronnie replied. “I only leave it this way because I don’t want to listen to what my family would say if I changed it. Sometimes we have to have functions here and I’m sure that the Monet goes over far better than a Witherspoon would.” She noted the lack of response from the young woman. “Witherspoon is an abstract artist. I have some of her works hanging in the game room.”

“You have a room just for games?”

“It’s a throwback to my father’s time. He used to entertain some of his more bawdy friends there. It’s got a pool table, a bar, dartboard, that kind of stuff. It’s over here. I’ll show you.”

Between the office and kitchen was a door, hidden under the stairs. “This is it. I haven’t been in here in quite some time until today when I went looking for the Trivial Pursuit game. Maria doesn’t even bother cleaning in here because it’s never used, so don’t mind any dust you might see.” Ronnie stopped pushing the chair, stepped in front, and opened the door.

There was hardly a speck of dust in the room, despite the warnings. Rose heard a click behind her and the room lit up with a series of hanging lights, all proclaiming one brand or another of beer as being the best. On the far left wall stood a fully stocked bar. The center of the room sported a claw-footed pool table with crushed green felt and the right end of the room had a few small tables complete with ashtrays. “It’s just like a bar.”

“Pretty much. Dad used to retreat in here with his friends when he needed a break from the stuffy business world. I learned to play pool right on this table.” She ran her fingers across the felt in memory. “During prohibition, my great-grandfather ran a makeshift speakeasy out of here, just for important clients, of course.” She walked to the far wall and pointed at a small buzzer. “This was the warning bell. Grandpa used to use it to warn when my grandmother was coming and years later my father did the same thing.”

“Wow,” Rose said, truly amazed at the history of the room. She reached over and ran her fingertips along the smooth wooden side of the pool table. “I’m surprised you don’t spend time in here. It seems like a wonderful room.”

“It is, but I’m really too busy most of the time to have friends over.” Ronnie gripped the handles again. “Ready to see the rest?”

“Sure.”

They left the game room and ventured around some more, Ronnie pointing out the mud room that led to the back driveway, the foyer, and the second bathroom on the first floor. They passed into an elegant dining room with a table longer than any Rose had seen before. “You could seat twenty people here,” the young woman said.

“Actually, it seats eighteen with the leaf in, but it does look rather large, doesn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful.” The table matched the china closets custom built into each corner as well as the serving cart, a wooden table with wheels and fold down side flaps.

“I suppose it is. I never use it except for family get-togethers. I usually eat in the kitchen or in front of the computer. Come on, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Their next stop was the kitchen. Ronnie wheeled Rose into the center of the room so she could see everything in one glance. “When I took the house over, this was nothing more than two counters and a few cabinets. Maria and I worked with one of the best kitchen designers in the area to make this.”

“It’s beautiful. It’s just like those kitchens you see in magazines,” Rose said. The colossal refrigerator sported light oak panels on the front, matching the rest of the kitchen’s decor. A state of the art cook’s island sat just off the middle of the room and was complete with a stovetop and sink as well as a garbage hole and built in cutting board. Above their heads was a wrought iron rack holding the brilliantly finished copper pots and pans. The opposite end of the room had large sliding glass doors that looked out at the driveway and the garages beyond. The entire kitchen was finished with oak, copper and steel with lots of light, giving an airy feeling to the area. “What’s that door?”

“That leads to the laundry room. It’s nothing exciting, I never go there.”

“A room just for laundry? Can I see it? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Rose,” Ronnie said, smiling at the obvious approval in the young woman’s gaze and voice. She guided them to the medium sized room. Calling it a laundry room was a bit of an understatement. Beyond the requisite washer and dryer, it also held the ironing board, several shelves to store off-season clothing, a cabinet with everything from fabric softener and detergent to spot removers and dryer sheets, and a counter to sort clothes on.

“This house is amazing. If I lived here, I’d never want to leave.” Her eyes widened at the possible ways her statement could be taken. “I-I mean, it’s a really nice place, not that I’d…”

“Relax, Rose, I knew what you meant,” the tall executive said. “I don’t like to leave here much myself. That’s why everything is designed for my comfort, and Maria’s of course.” She reached over and shut the light off. “Well, that’s it,” she said as she wheeled Rose back into the kitchen.

“The rest of the place is either upstairs or downstairs and we’re not going to venture there today.”

“It’s really a beautiful home, Ronnie.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it,” she replied, taking Rose’s approval of her home far more seriously than she had taken anyone else’s before. “So you up for that game of Trivial Pursuit or what?”

“Oh, that table in the dining room is too high for this chair,” Rose said apologetically.

“No problem. You think one of the ones in the game room would be a better fit?”

The rest of the morning was spent in the game room where they completed four games of Trivial Pursuit, ending with a tie of two wins apiece. Then it was back to the office where they watched a marathon of Judge Judy tapes that Ronnie had stored up but had been too busy to watch. Tabitha kept them company, alternating between lying on the bed with Rose and jumping up on Ronnie’s lap in the leather chair.

Shortly after lunch Rose took half a Percocet and lay down to take a nap, the morning activities taking their toll on her still healing legs. Ronnie pretended to work on the computer but in truth she was just waiting for the young woman to fall asleep. When she heard the soft, gentle snores, she stepped away from the computer desk and knelt down next to the bed. She watched the steady rise and fall of Rose’s chest for a few minutes before tucking the blanket in around her and leaving the room, making certain the door was left ajar.

Rose shook her head groggily and opened her eyes. It was dark out but with the short days of winter, she could not tell if it was five o’clock or eight o’clock. A glance at the red numbers on the alarm told her it was quarter to six. Her bladder told her that it was time for something else altogether. She sighed at the thought of having to ask Ronnie yet again to help her with the task. Her eyes fell on the bedpan, sitting on the small table next to the bed. It was within arm’s reach…perhaps…

Ronnie was chopping up mushrooms when she heard the blood-curdling scream. The knife hit the floor as she raced from the kitchen to the office as the screams continued.

“Oh God…ahhh…” Rose was still crying out in agonizing pain when Ronnie burst in. The young woman had managed to roll onto her side in an attempt to get the bedpan underneath herself but in the process her left leg dropped over the right one and twisted, sending intense waves of pain through her ankle. “Oh God it hurts!”

Ronnie wasted no time, grabbing the left foot and lifting the leg away from the right one trapped underneath it. She quickly got Rose positioned onto her back again. “What happened?”

“I…I just wanted…” Her words broke off into sobs as she cried helplessly.

“Okay now, okay.” Ronnie scrambled up onto the bed and pulled Rose against her with one arm while reaching for the bottle of Percocet with the other. “I’ve got you, Rose…it’s okay now.” The cap to the bottle went flying under the force of her thumb. “Here now, take this.”

Rose took the full pill into her mouth, followed by a few sips of water to get it down. Her sobs eased up slightly, but her arms remained wrapped firmly around Ronnie’s neck. “What happened?”

“I…I had to go…and…and…”

“Why didn’t you ask me? I left the door open so I could hear you.” Whatever Rose tried to give for an answer was lost in her sobs, the only words Ronnie could make out were ‘sorry’ and

‘bother’. “Okay…I’ve got you,” she cooed. “I’ve got you, it’s all right.”

It was a good ten minutes before she got Rose calmed down enough to get the bedpan under her hips. “I think we’d better take you back to the hospital so they can make sure that the bones are still lined up.”

“I didn’t hit it that hard…”

“You don’t know that, Rose. Even the slightest bit off and you’ll have problems walking again, you know that.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she said fearfully. “I’m sorry, please don’t make me go back.”

“Shh…I’m not making you go back. I just want to make sure you didn’t do any damage, that’s all.” She pulled Rose close again. “I promise we’ll only go to get your legs X-rayed and then we’ll come back home.”

It was almost two in the morning by the time they returned from the emergency room. Ronnie was annoyed enough at the length of time it took for the ambulance to arrive, but she was even more angry at the hour and a half wait to get a return trip. The thought of purchasing a van just so she would not have to depend on others to help her get Rose around passed through her mind more than once. Much to their relief, nothing was moved out of place. Dinner ended up not being the elegant feast that she had planned but leftovers warmed up in the microwave due to the late hour.

Ronnie got Rose settled back into bed and gave her a stern warning about trying a stunt like that again before tucking her in. “I’ll be right here on the couch if you need me,” she said before shutting off the light and heading for the door.

“Ronnie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Those words brought the dark-haired woman back to the bedside. “I know you are, Hon, and I know it’s gotta be hard for you, but please just ask for help next time, okay?”

“Okay.” There was a pause. “Ronnie?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s time.”

Ronnie drained the last of her cup of coffee and looked out the window at the morning sun bouncing off the freshly fallen snow. Behind her, Rose continued to sleep soundly, not at all disturbed by the executive’s early morning activities on the computer. Ronnie set the empty cup down on the desk and sighed. Three hours pouring over statements and spreadsheets still failed to turn up anything amiss with Cartwright Real Estate. Contractors were paid, receipts were posted, everything looked like business as usual. So why did she feel so strongly that something was terribly wrong? She slumped back into her chair and picked up the report again. The answer had to be there. But instead of returning to the world of ledgers and entries, Ronnie’s eyes drifted over to the bed, where the bright sun cast a glow around the sleeping form. “Just like sunshine,” she whispered to herself.

Time began to tick by as she continued to silently study Rose. Her blue eyes started at the top, noting the soft honey colored hair that framed the cherubic face. Reddish brown eyebrows accented closed lids with naturally curly lashes. A petite, upturned nose rested just above the softest looking lips. Ronnie’s gaze continued downward, past the oversized nightshirt and down to where the curves stopped. Her eyes remained riveted on the broken bones hidden by the casts, reminding her just why the beautiful young woman was there. With a mix of guilt and regret, Ronnie turned her chair back to face the desk and buried herself in her work.

The rustling of the bedcovers accompanied by a painful groan announced that the young woman was waking up. “Morning,” Rose mumbled, trying to bring green eyes into focus.

“Almost afternoon, actually,” Ronnie replied, putting down her work for a moment and turning to face her companion. “I don’t have much to offer in the way of brunch but if you want, I’ll run out and see if I can get some Chinese food.”

“Ooh, that sounds wonderful.” Rose’s eyes lit up as if she were receiving the biggest Christmas present in the world. “I meant to thank you again for bringing that to the hospital.”

“It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?”

The young woman cocked her head from side to side in thought before answering. “No, not really. I never had much, so extras like take-out food were out of the question.”

“How long have you been on your own, Rose?”

“Oh,” she blushed. “You don’t want to hear about me.”

“Sure I do.” Ronnie moved her chair closer and propped her stockinged feet on the edge of the bed. “Come on, it’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Sunshine,” she cajoled, realizing she had used the pet name only after she had said it. She shifted and glanced at the window. “It’s cold outside. I’ll call for delivery and you can tell me all about Rose Grayson.”

“There isn’t really that much to tell. Certainly nothing particularly interesting.”

“Let me decide that,” Ronnie urged, her eyes pleading for the young woman to open up.

Rose looked down at the blanket for a moment, weighing her options and fears. She felt so safe, so cared for here. What if something she said made her new friend think differently of her?

But…there was nothing in Ronnie’s eyes to suggest she would judge anything that was said. Maybe if she skimmed over the details….

“Well, like I said, there really isn’t that much to tell. I was almost two years old when my parents died in a car accident. After that I lived with my grandmother until she got too sick to take care of me anymore.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Then I lived in different places until I was old enough to be on my own. That’s about it.”

“How old were you when your grandmother got sick?”

“Ten.”

“She was your only relative?”

“Yeah.”

“You know this feels more like an interview than a conversation,” Ronnie said, drawing a shy smile from the young woman. “Tell me a story about you. Tell me about something nice that happened to you when you were a child.”

“Something nice that happened to me, eh?” Rose pondered the thought for a moment before coming up with a suitable tale. “All right, but first you call for that food you promised.”

“Deal,” she replied.

A few minutes later the food had been ordered and it was now time for Rose to tell her story.

“Okay, it was when I was six or seven. My grandmother came to me early one morning and told me that we were going someplace special. She packed us lunches and we took the bus for what seemed like hours. We had to switch buses a couple of times before we got there.” Rose’s eyes gleamed at the memory and her gaze was many years away from the office in Ronnie’s house.

“She took me to the zoo. Not the little petting zoos that would come to the bazaars from time to time but a real zoo. There were so many animals…tigers, bears, seals…it was incredible. We spent the whole day there and ate lunch near the cage with the bear cubs.” She placed her hand on the older woman’s ankle and leaned in. “My grandmother told me not to feed them but when she wasn’t looking I threw the rest of my sandwich into their pit.”

“Sounds like a really nice day,” Ronnie said.

“Oh, it was. It was one of those perfect days when it wasn’t too hot or too windy or anything. Grandma even had a roll of dimes to put in the machines to get those pellets to feed the goats.” Rose leaned back against her pillow and smiled at the ceiling. “I fell asleep on the way back so I don’t remember much of that but I do remember how happy I was to be walking home with her from the bus stop.”

“Sounds like she loved you very much.”

“She did,” the young woman replied. “Grandma always found ways to make our time together nice. After the chores were done, we’d always play Monopoly or cards or something.” Rose’s eyes misted and she blinked back the pain that came with the memory.

“My grandmothers were always scrapping with each other,” Ronnie said, hoping that a tale of her own would help keep her friend from thinking of the sad times growing up. “They were both the typical mother-in-law. Grandma Cartwright never thought my mother was good enough and Grandmother Mitchell thought the same of my dad. You should have seen them at holidays.”

“Did you always have a lot of people around on the holidays?”

“Yup, and always here, too—well, until I took over. Now the parties are held at Susan’s house or at one of the cousin’s places. But back then, we usually had thirty or forty people here for family get-togethers.”

“Wow, it must have been chaos.” Rose pressed the remote button for the heating unit built into the bed, hoping it would help ease the steadily growing ache in her legs.

“Chaos is a nice way of putting it. Tradition is a big thing in both families and of course what was a Cartwright tradition wasn’t a Mitchell one. On some holidays there’d be fights ten minutes after everyone arrived.”

“Fights?”

“Oh, not physical ones…usually,” Ronnie grinned. “At Christmas usually it would start with what we were having for dinner then work its way up to how the tree was decorated.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope, swear to God.” She held her hand up in solemn oath. “Mother’s family always waited until Christmas Eve to put the star on the top but Dad’s side would put it up long before, when they put the tree up.”

“That seems like a silly thing for people to get upset about, especially at a time when they should just be happy to see each other,” Rose said, realizing perhaps Ronnie’s family was not as perfect as she thought they were.

“Well, maybe it was because my family saw way too much of each other. They all worked for Cartwright Corp. in one form or another.”

“You’d think that would make them closer.”

“Sometimes they were too close,” Ronnie replied. “It’s like a soap opera at times. We all know what’s going on in each other’s lives all the time. There’s no real privacy.”

“I never thought it could be so difficult. I guess, not having a family, I didn’t see the down side to having so many people around,” Rose admitted.

“I never thought about how lonely it could be being an only child.” The two women looked at each other thoughtfully as old ideas blended with newfound truths.

“When I was at Dartmouth,” Ronnie began, “I loved the freedom being away from home gave me. No curfew, no disapproving looks. It felt so good not have to answer to anyone or worry about my image.”

“I bet you were one of those who ended up spending all your time studying and getting good grades,” the young woman ventured.

“Actually, I graduated summa cum laude and was a member of the Honor Society, but I was also a regular at all the good parties,” she acknowledged. “More for appearances and contacts than anything else but still, if there was something fun going on, I was there. That’s not to say I didn’t get into my fair share of trouble. For my sorority’s senior prank, we bought a car that had been stripped by car thieves from a junkyard and sneaked over to the Dean’s house in the middle of the night and switched it for his car. We parked his down the block a little ways but the look on his face was priceless when he came out that morning to get his paper and saw that hunk of junk sitting in his driveway.”

“Oh God, I bet he was ready to kill you when he found out,” Rose said, trying hard not to laugh at the image of the dean looking at what he thought to be his car stripped down to bare metal.

“I have a video of it somewhere, wanna see?”

“Oh, I bet that would be funny.”

“I’ll get it.” Ronnie stood up and headed to the door. “You know, I’ve got quite a video collection. Do you like comedies?”

“Love them,” she replied enthusiastically.

“I’ve got a bunch of those ‘Revenge of the Nerds’ and ‘Porky’s‘ kind of movies.”

“Sounds great.” She looked around. “Um, but where would we watch them?”

Ronnie looked around, only now noticing that in her haste to get the room ready for Rose, she did not think to have a VCR moved in. “Um…well…I guess we’ll watch it in the living room. There’s a TV just as large as this one and at least one VCR. If you’re up to it?”

Ignoring the increasing aches in her legs, she smiled and nodded. “Sure, but I don’t remember seeing a television out there.”

“Oh, you’ll see it.” Ronnie grinned with the thought of showing off her prized entertainment system. When it had been installed, her mother and sister had come over to see it. Susan thought it was ‘a bit much’ and her mother thought it was ‘nice’ but Ronnie knew it was something to be proud of. After all, she had picked out each and every component, matching just the right equalizer with the best series of Bose ‘surround-sound’ speakers. She even went to the best appliance store in the area to personally choose her television. Her entertainment system was a tribute to high-end electronics and Ronnie just itched for the chance to show it off.

“You’ll be all right here for a minute?” Ronnie queried. Rose was sitting in her wheelchair, just at the edge of the steps that led to the sunken living room.

“Sure.”

“I need to move the couch so you can see better.” The first thing she had to do was move the solid mahogany coffee table out of the way. It had a drawer full of remotes, each clearly labeled with the name of the item it operated. It also contained all the instruction manuals, the corners of which were dog-eared from use.

Next came the couch. With an ease that spoke clearly of strength, Ronnie lifted the right end up slightly from the carpet and used her legs to move it until it was facing the center cabinet on the wall. “Okay, all set.” Before Rose could yelp a protest, the black-haired woman stepped behind her, grabbed the wheels of the chair, and lifted both it and her off the carpet. Ronnie gently set the wheelchair down on the lower level. “Let me get the pillows for your head and then I’ll help get you on the couch. That way you can still lie down and enjoy the show.”

“But where will you sit?”

Ronnie just grinned. “Go take a good look at that couch, Rose.”

The blonde woman guided the wheelchair around to face the front of the couch. “Looks like a very nice couch, but…” Ronnie had come around the other side and sat down, reaching between the cushion and side to grab the hidden lever.

“It’s one of those reclining ones!”

“Yup…look at this.” She snaked her hand between a fold of soft leather and pulled, revealing a hidden snack tray nestled within the center cushions.

“Oh, that is cool!”

“What can I say? I like creature comforts.” Ronnie said with a grin. “Here, let’s get you settled. You’ll love how soft this is.”

“Oooh! This is niiiice,” the young woman drawled after sinking into the wonderful couch.

“I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen asleep on it,” the proud owner said as she walked over to the cabinets and faced the center one. The double doors opened to reveal the large screen television and the racks above it filled with stereo equipment and a top of the line six-head VCR. She slid the doors into their recessed spaces before turning to face the sight of Rose comfortably relaxing on her couch. “I’ll go get the movie and something for us to drink.” She returned a few minutes later with sodas for both of them and a black video cassette case. “I hope ‘Revenge of the Nerds’ is a good one because that’s the one I grabbed.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ve only seen it once, on television.”

“Oh, you have to see it. They cut some of the best scenes when they edited it for TV.” Ronnie reached into the drawer of the coffee table and picked up several remotes before settling on three of them. “Let’s see now, I have a list here somewhere…” She shuffled the manuals around until she found the one with all her writing on it. “Here we go.”

A few seconds later the television was on, the tape was rolling, and crisp sound came from every corner of the room. Ronnie had spent months adjusting the angles of the speakers to best blend in with the natural acoustics of the vaulted ceiling. A satellite feed gave perfect digital pictures on the fifty-inch screen of the massive television. She had originally purchased a projection television but that now resided in the gym. It was replaced with the sharper picture and higher quality of a tube. The credits were just beginning when they heard a car coming up the driveway.