rubbed easily away, but the tightness in her chest wasn’t headed anywhere.
Exhaustion sunk in. Rosalie considered crawling into bed, but rising off the couch took too much effort. Instead she rested her head on the same pillow David recently used and fell asleep.
The phone call from Marissa jerked her awake. “Alex and I are headed over to Ross’s. Do you want a lift?”
Rosalie had completely forgotten about the Thanksgiving party. The last thing she wanted was a celebration. Rosalie hunted for a good spur-of-the-moment excuse, but came up empty. She told Marissa, she’d meet her there and hung up.
Rosalie stumbled into the bathroom, hoping a shower would wash away the sinking depression. The hot water did nothing. She dressed and grabbed her purse and then noticed Billy’s keys on the table. She picked them up and felt the tears again. The car was a constant reminder David had exited her life. The sooner she dumped the car, the better. She could drop it off at the airport after dinner and then catch the bus home, but if she showed up with a new car at Ross’s people would ask questions. His house was only a five minute walk from Penrose’s. Rosalie decided to park there instead. In the far corner of the lot no one would notice one stray vehicle.
As Rosalie walked up to Ross’s door, she saw Marissa’s car parked out front. Pausing on the stoop, she took a deep breath and forced a smile. Marissa had enough problems of her own. She didn’t need to hear Rosalie’s tale of woe. Besides, she thought grimly, how could she possibly explain she spent the night with an E.L.F. and not sound like a lunatic?
The house was crowded. Ross always held an open door policy for the holidays. His two oldest kids were home from college and each brought friends, not to mention all the people from Penrose’s who dropped in. Rosalie was delighted to see Mittens helping Miss Lu set out pies on the sideboard.
Alex spied Rosalie and his pale face lit up. He scampered over with arms wide, demanding a piggyback.
“Alex,” Marissa scolded, “at least let Miss Rosalie get something to eat first.”
“I’m fine,” she maintained, bouncing Alex up and down. “I’m not hungry.”
“Nevertheless,” Marissa insisted. “She isn’t your horsey, Alex.”
He scrunched up his face. “Yes, she is. I said so.”
Rosalie chuckled. “How do you argue with logic like that?”
Marissa gave him the mom-look. “Young man, get down this instant.” Disappointed, he slid to the floor.
“May I sit next to Miss Rosalie at supper?” he pleaded. “I promise not to blow bubbles in my milk.”
“We’ll blow them in mine,” said Rosalie with a straight face. Alex burst out in giggles.
“Neither one of you will blow bubbles—period. Alex, Miss Lu brought her grandson. Why don’t you find Jonathan and play?” The boy scampered off.
“He looks better,” Rosalie stated with a show of optimism.
“Alex always rouses some after the start of a new treatment.” For an instant the wan, distressed expression of an anxious mother eclipsed the calm self-possession of the assistant store manager. “The medicine is so expensive. What with the mortgage and all the other bills...”
Rosalie draped her arm around Marissa’s S Mae. Wshoulders. “Sell the house. Then you and Alex can live with me and we’ll all eat beans together.”
“You have barely enough space for yourself.”
“We’ll be cozy.”
“You’re crazy.” Marissa’s voice dropped as if she was afraid someone would overhear. “I have relatives in California. We’re not close, but they’ll take us in.”
Rosalie stared at her aghast. Her best friend, the one person who always spouted optimism for the future, gave up hope. “Do you really want to leave?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should quit instead of waiting to get fired. Even if Stephanie manages to end the year on a profitable note, Penrose’s days are numbered. Unemployment is only a matter of time
Exhaustion sunk in. Rosalie considered crawling into bed, but rising off the couch took too much effort. Instead she rested her head on the same pillow David recently used and fell asleep.
The phone call from Marissa jerked her awake. “Alex and I are headed over to Ross’s. Do you want a lift?”
Rosalie had completely forgotten about the Thanksgiving party. The last thing she wanted was a celebration. Rosalie hunted for a good spur-of-the-moment excuse, but came up empty. She told Marissa, she’d meet her there and hung up.
Rosalie stumbled into the bathroom, hoping a shower would wash away the sinking depression. The hot water did nothing. She dressed and grabbed her purse and then noticed Billy’s keys on the table. She picked them up and felt the tears again. The car was a constant reminder David had exited her life. The sooner she dumped the car, the better. She could drop it off at the airport after dinner and then catch the bus home, but if she showed up with a new car at Ross’s people would ask questions. His house was only a five minute walk from Penrose’s. Rosalie decided to park there instead. In the far corner of the lot no one would notice one stray vehicle.
As Rosalie walked up to Ross’s door, she saw Marissa’s car parked out front. Pausing on the stoop, she took a deep breath and forced a smile. Marissa had enough problems of her own. She didn’t need to hear Rosalie’s tale of woe. Besides, she thought grimly, how could she possibly explain she spent the night with an E.L.F. and not sound like a lunatic?
The house was crowded. Ross always held an open door policy for the holidays. His two oldest kids were home from college and each brought friends, not to mention all the people from Penrose’s who dropped in. Rosalie was delighted to see Mittens helping Miss Lu set out pies on the sideboard.
Alex spied Rosalie and his pale face lit up. He scampered over with arms wide, demanding a piggyback.
“Alex,” Marissa scolded, “at least let Miss Rosalie get something to eat first.”
“I’m fine,” she maintained, bouncing Alex up and down. “I’m not hungry.”
“Nevertheless,” Marissa insisted. “She isn’t your horsey, Alex.”
He scrunched up his face. “Yes, she is. I said so.”
Rosalie chuckled. “How do you argue with logic like that?”
Marissa gave him the mom-look. “Young man, get down this instant.” Disappointed, he slid to the floor.
“May I sit next to Miss Rosalie at supper?” he pleaded. “I promise not to blow bubbles in my milk.”
“We’ll blow them in mine,” said Rosalie with a straight face. Alex burst out in giggles.
“Neither one of you will blow bubbles—period. Alex, Miss Lu brought her grandson. Why don’t you find Jonathan and play?” The boy scampered off.
“He looks better,” Rosalie stated with a show of optimism.
“Alex always rouses some after the start of a new treatment.” For an instant the wan, distressed expression of an anxious mother eclipsed the calm self-possession of the assistant store manager. “The medicine is so expensive. What with the mortgage and all the other bills...”
Rosalie draped her arm around Marissa’s S Mae. Wshoulders. “Sell the house. Then you and Alex can live with me and we’ll all eat beans together.”
“You have barely enough space for yourself.”
“We’ll be cozy.”
“You’re crazy.” Marissa’s voice dropped as if she was afraid someone would overhear. “I have relatives in California. We’re not close, but they’ll take us in.”
Rosalie stared at her aghast. Her best friend, the one person who always spouted optimism for the future, gave up hope. “Do you really want to leave?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should quit instead of waiting to get fired. Even if Stephanie manages to end the year on a profitable note, Penrose’s days are numbered. Unemployment is only a matter of time
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