Time to Love Again (13 page)

Stephen felt awful. Damn, he couldn't stand seeing her in this state. So fragile, so alone. What was it going to take for her to trust?

 
After he left her yesterday, he went to talk to her friends about her. She'd probably be furious with him if she found out, but curiosity had gotten the best of him. Stephen told them if they didn't want to talk to him, he'd understand. But George was especially talkative.

"I've known Rose a long time." George said. "When Frank died so soon after her parents, she went into a shell. Louise tried to get her to join in with the volunteer group they had enjoyed together through the years, but she wouldn't participate." George didn't even give him a chance to ask a question.

 
Stephen listened, saddened at what he heard.

 
"After her sister died she really fell apart, withdrew from life. She even pushed her kids away. I'm surprised she stayed in touch with Louise," George said.

Stephen figured it was something like this just from the little Rose told him.

"But Louise wasn't the type to ignore a friend in need." George got up and paced while he talked.

"I think she tried to distance herself, but Louise wouldn't have any of it." George went on to explain how she had vowed never to marry again after Frank died.

"She locked herself away only seeing Louise and Emma. After Emma died, she wouldn't even see or talk to Louise. It took months of phone calls and uninvited visits before Rose resumed their friendship."

"What happened with her kids?" Stephen asked. He wanted to know everything about Rose.

 
"The kids gave up calling so often. She hardly talks to them. Whenever they call, Rose makes some excuse or another to hang up. They think she isn't interested in them anymore. People can only take so much rejection. Kids aren't any different." George sighed and poured a cup of coffee.

"Rose doesn't know they keep in touch with Louise. Those kids are worried sick about their mother." George stopped and sipped his coffee. "Rose told Louise they're young and have their own lives. She keeps saying they don't need a meddling old lady telling them what to do." George shrugged. "Not like the Rose I remembered."

Stephen understood some of Rose's feelings. Wasn't any different for him. Hell, wasn't any different for anyone who lost a spouse. Fortunately for him, he enjoyed people and didn't allow himself to fall into such a deep depression. Friends helped and his son's family was there for him, although they lived an hour away until they went overseas. Now he had Sarah until they came back. That took up most of his time.

"Louise figured it was more that Rose didn't want her kids to suffer the loss the way she had when her parents passed." George continued. "I guess she doesn't realize she can't prevent those feelings no matter how you distance yourself. They were such a close knit family when those kids were growing up. They're gonna miss her no matter what. Hell, they miss her now. And she's causing undue hurt on the kids because she won't talk to them."

"I don't suppose she talked to a grief counselor or anyone." Stephen figured the answer was no. From the little he knew about her, she seemed like the type to want to work it out herself.

 
"Louise tried to get her to seek help from a professional or speak to a grief counselor, but Rose won't have any part of it. All Louise and I can do is offer support and a sympathetic ear." George shook his head. "I'm glad you're Rose's friend. She needs someone else in her life. Especially now. This thing with Louise is bringing it all back."

 
"Whoa, I've only known her for a couple days, hours really. Until yesterday, we hardly spoke.” Stephen tried to explain.

 
George smiled. "Well, I hope it turns into a lasting friendship. I'd like to see Rose happy again. Don't you give up. She'll come around. You come and talk to me if you want to know more."

George could count on that.

* * *

Rose came out of the bathroom and looked at him. "I'm ready."

"This is for you." Stephen handed her the rose.

"Thank you." Rose took the rose and sniffed the fragrant flower. Light pink meant gentleness, admiration and sympathy.

"Okay, let's go."

A shiver of excitement went through Rose when he took her arm. Frank used to have the same affect on her. Her insides turned to jelly with just a look from him. She had to stop this nonsense. She didn't like this feeling at all. Stephen Daniels meant nothing to her.

Or did he?

They were quiet on the ride home. Rose was grateful he didn't try to make small talk. She dreaded going into the house. Dreaded going up to her bedroom. Sergeant Pilsner warned her. She hoped she was ready for it.

Stephen pulled into her drive, got out and hurried to her side of the car. Being independent, Rose usually didn't wait, but today she hesitated. She knew what awaited her. Pausing at the front door, she looked to Stephen for reassurance. He nodded and she opened it. Someone had fixed the hinges.

 
He gasped as they walked into the room.

Her legs trembled. She pulled back, took a deep breath. A wave of nausea swept over her as she looked at the room again. Stephen put his arm around her, and they walked to the stairway. He mumbled something that sounded like he had no idea.

Even staying with Stephen would be better than spending another minute here. But she had to go on. Even if she did agree to stay with him, she needed clothes. She cringed at the entrance to her bedroom and then walked inside, looking at the destruction.

Tears swelled in her eyes when she ran her hand along the damaged dresser. Opened fingernail polish remover lay on its side, peeling the varnish off the top and halfway down the side. Gouges from a sharp object pierced the wood. Her clothes were strewn from the drawers and scattered around the room. The blankets and sheets pulled from the bed. The mattress slashed. The headboard bore deep gouges the same as the dresser. Rose remembered how excited she and Frank had been when they bought the set forty years ago. She closed her eyes and tried to fight the tears. She turned away so Stephen couldn't see her tears, grateful he had stopped at the doorway.

* * *

 
Stephen stood and waited, ready to offer support. He wanted to go to her. Wanted to offer his comfort and strength, but knew she'd resist. He had the irresistible urge to hold her, wipe the tears from her eyes. Damn, the room's a disaster, but it was her bedroom, and he wouldn't violate her privacy. She'd turn to him eventually.

 
This woman had already found a place in his heart, now he had to find a way to break through hers. He chuckled to himself. Sarah had been right. He did like her. He watched as she picked up a picture. From this distance, he couldn't see it, but something told him it was Frank. She was feeling his loss greater now than when he died. He wished he could help her, but it had to be her decision. He wouldn't force himself on her. But he wouldn't give up either. He just waited and sighed.

* * *

Rose glanced in Stephen's direction. The tears streamed down her cheek. She sensed his hesitancy and the look on his face told her he didn't want to intrude. But she also noticed the sympathetic look in his eyes.

She turned away, resisted the desire to run to him, to let him hold her and tell her it would be okay. God, how she wanted to hear those words. Needed to hear them.

 
Emma chided her yet again. "You're a fool, here's a man ready to offer comfort, and you avoid him like the plague. These are only possessions, your memories will stay intact, let yourself go. Frank wouldn't have wanted this for you. He wanted your happiness."

She shrugged off Emma's voice, looked at Stephen framed in the doorway, and took a step toward him, ready to give in. She wanted to feel his arms around her. Wanted to feel the comfort Frank used to offer.

Emma was right. Frank wouldn't have wanted her to go on this way. He would have wanted her to find someone. To get on with life. Frank loved life, loved to entertain and be around family and friends. They had always shared their lives with others. Frank wouldn't approve of her cutting herself off this way. She hesitated a moment before she took another step toward the doorway.

Stephen stood there. Was he waiting for her? She walked slowly toward him. Held her breath. Was she right? Was he ready to offer comfort? Or would she make a fool of herself? She took another step toward, ready to receive all he was willing to offer.

Chapter Twenty

A door slammed downstairs. Stephen motioned her to stay put and went to the top of the steps.

"Mom," Francis' voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Rose heard him taking the stairs two at a time, like he always did. "Who are you?" he asked Stephen.

"Francis? What...? How...? What are you doing here?" Rose hurried to the doorway, stepped from the room and went to him. She hugged him and for a moment felt the strength and energy she had wanted from Stephen. She made the introductions.

Francis let out a low whistle as he looked around. Welcoming his strong shoulder, Rose leaned into him and the tears began again. She hated the weakness she showed to Stephen and her son. Hated how she couldn't control the tears.

Stephen shook hands with Francis "I'll see you later." He excused himself, gave her a half-hearted smile, and left.

Rose was almost sorry Francis was here. She'd been so close to turning to Stephen. If Francis hadn't come in, she probably would have been in his arms. Just as well. Much as she wanted to, it was for the best. She didn't need a new relationship.

"Well, we can't stay here," Francis said. "Looks like we need a motel room. Did you call your insurance company yet?"

"No, I just came home from the hospital a few minutes ago. What are you doing here?"

Francis's blue eyes pierced into hers the way Frank's used to when he disapproved of something she did. He looked so much like his father.

"You know, Mother, a phone call telling us about this should have been priority. Linda shouldn't have heard about this from Molly. And a phone call about Aunt Louise would have been nice too."

Rose cringed. He even sounded like his father. Francis had every right to be angry. She should have called, especially about Louise. The kids had a right to know. "You're right. I should've called about Louise. I just didn't think....I mean." Rose threw her hands in the air. She didn't know what she meant anymore. "I'm glad you're here." And she was. He had no idea how happy she was to see him. She went into his open arms.

"I'm glad I'm here too. But I would have been here a lot sooner if you had called. You know, Mom, you can't shut us out of your life forever."

"No, I guess I can't. I'm sorry. I've been so stupid."

"Shh... it's okay." Francis patted her back. "Come on let's see if we can salvage some of your clothes and pack them up for you. I have a feeling this is going to take a while to put back together."

Rose went to the closet and pulled her insurance papers from the concealed safe. At least they hadn't found that. She picked up some of the clothes off the floor. Not much was salvageable. Most of them were torn. She managed to put enough together to carry her for a couple of days. Francis pulled down the stairway to the attic crawl space and found her suitcase. Rose packed what she could and followed him to her car. Stephen stood at the window when she got in car and she waved at him. He turned away without reciprocating.

Maybe he hadn't seen her.

After they registered at the hotel, Francis called her insurance company and agreed to meet them later that afternoon. To help bide the time, Francis took her to lunch. It was fun spending time with her son. She had forgotten how amusing he was. He reminded her so much of Frank that she missed him more than ever.

They met the insurance agent at the house later. "Wow, what a mess." The agent stepped through the front door and couldn't seem to contain his surprise. He opened his notepad and began writing notes. "Definitely looks like new furniture in here," he said as they walked through the living room.