Time to Love Again (6 page)

"What are you going to say? You haven't thought this through, Rose. You're going to make a complete fool of yourself, again. You should leave before it's too late."

Rose shrugged off the warning from her sister, shuffled her feet, and stamped the snow off her boots, while she waited. Finally, the door opened.

Stephen stood in front of her. He towered over her. Heat crept up her neck as the look in his eyes went from surprise to smoldering.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

Heat singed her face. Her hands trembled. What was she doing here? Why had she acted so impulsive? Why hadn't she listened to Emma? Those kids weren't hurting anything. In fact, she kind of liked their singing. It reminded her of when she was young and went out caroling with her brother and sister.

Heck, they had even caroled at the neighborhood grouch's house, too. That was the only time the old woman didn't yell at them. She never gave them any money either, but she listened to them sing before she turned away and closed the door.

"Are you all right?" Rose heard the concern in Stephen's voice. "Please, come in." He moved aside, held the door, and motioned her in.

"No, no, I... I'm sorry the kids..." Oh, dear Lord, she prayed, open the ground and swallow me.

"Sarah and her friends, now what have they done? She promised she wouldn't bother you again. I'm sorry. I'll talk to them."

"Thanks," she mumbled, then turned, and ran home. Stupid old lady, what was the matter with her? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Chapter Nine

Sarah and her friends peeked around the corner of the house and watched Mrs. Asbury.

"We're in big trouble now, Sarah." Jenny chewed on her hair. "I told you we shouldn't go over there.

Sarah shushed her friend. "Quit worrying, we were caroling at everyone's house. I can't help it if she's so mean."

"It's time for me to go home." Billy and Jason said at the same time.

"Me too." Jenny followed them.

Sarah went into the house. Her grandfather sat at the table, waiting for her.

* * *

"Sarah, sit down." Stephen motioned to the chair. "What did you do to Mrs. Asbury?"

Sarah lowered her eyes, shrugged, and sat down. "We were just singing Christmas carols."

Stephen turned away and hid a smile. What was wrong with that woman? Couldn't she handle a couple kids singing Christmas carols?

 
Drumming his fingers on the table, he explained again, that she and her friends were not to bother Mrs. Asbury. "That means no playing in her yard, no building snowmen, no caroling. Nothing, understand? I don't want you near that woman's house."

Sarah nodded. "Can I go now?"

He shook his head and waved her off.

"You like her don't you, Grandpa"

"What?" Stephen laughed. "Sarah you come up with some of the silliest ideas. Go, watch television for a while, it's almost bedtime."

He sat and thought about Rose. What was it with that woman? Didn't she like kids? She doesn't want them in her yard, doesn't like carols, what's her problem? She's an attractive woman if she'd fix herself up a bit. Just a touch of lipstick would work wonders. Too bad she didn't join the
Senior
Center
. It might improve her attitude. Make her more pleasant. Oh, well, he shrugged, thank goodness Sarah wouldn't be bothering her anymore. Still, he wondered what tragedy had caused her to become so crabby.

According to the neighbors, Len and Millie Fisher, Mrs. Asbury's house had been one of the best decorated on the street years ago, and their yard was always full of kids.

"One would have thought it was the Kool-Aid house," Millie referred to the old television commercial that advertised one house where all the kids gathered. "Rose always had fresh-baked cookies and hot chocolate for the kids in the winter and a never ending supply of popsicles and juice in the summer. She loved kids. Heck, even when her kids weren't home the neighbor kids gathered there to wait for them. Our own included."

 
Len agreed. "You usually found her helping the kids build snowmen or having snowball fights. Our own kids played at the Asbury's house. Couldn't hardly keep 'em home." He laughed.

"Course, always knew right where to find 'em too. Sometimes the adults gathered there too, and we had big snowball fights. The Asbury's always had hot chocolate, and sometimes we ordered pizza. What a lively house. In the summer, it was cookouts and swimming in their pool." Len shook his head. "She changed a little after Frank died, but more so after her sister died." Len looked at his wife.

"Sad that. The sisters were inseparable. Where you found one, you found the other, along with Louise Jordan and her family." Millie took over.

Stephen shrugged off his thoughts and joined Sarah in front of the television. Can't be bothered about a crotchety old woman, but still there was something. Something inside that wanted to know her better. Wanted to break through that tough exterior.

Funny, he'd felt the same way about Margaret Ann those many years ago. Difference was Margaret was shy, not a crotchety old lady. He smiled, remembering their first meeting. A county fair of all things. Margaret was there helping her mother in the pie booth. Apple pie to die for, if he remembered correctly. But back then he only had eyes for Margaret Ann. He couldn't resist buying a slice of pie just so she'd have to talk to him. Not that she did much of that. Nope, he did most of the talking. Felt like a chatterbox, he couldn't get her to join the conversation. No matter what he asked, she just nodded yes or no. For the life of him, he couldn't think of a thing to ask that would make her speak. Stephen let out a loud chuckle.

"What, Grandpa?" Sarah asked.

"Huh? Oh, nothing, was just thinking about the time I met your grandma."

Sarah leaned against him. "Where did you meet her?"

"At the
Cuyahoga
County
Fair. Prettiest thing I ever saw. She was helping her mother with the pie booth." Stephen stroked Sarah's head. "I had to go back two days in a row to get her to talk to me."

"How come?"

"She was shy. I think I scared her. Finally, I convinced her to go out with me."

"What did Grandma look like?"

"She had dark hair, brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when she laughed. She had a perky little nose just like yours." Stephen tweaked Sarah's nose, and she laughed.

"Do you miss her?"

Stephen pulled Sarah onto his lap. "Very much." He kissed her forehead. "Come on, peanut, it's time for bed."

Chapter Ten

Rose threw her jacket on the chair, picked up the still warm coffeepot, and poured a cup. She took a deep breath and grabbed hold of a chair. Managing to set the coffee on the table without spilling it, she sat down and lowered her head between her knees to stop the dizziness. What was the matter with her going over there like that? And the desire, she saw in Stephen's eyes when he opened the door, sparked something she'd not felt in a very long time. She couldn't recall when the last time she saw such raw desire. Way back when she and Frank were just starting out maybe. God, what was wrong with her?

She shivered, even now, thinking about the ways his eyes changed when she mentioned the kids. Turned them to ice.

Of course they did. What would she have done in the same situation? Oh, what a stupid fool. Why didn't she listen to Emma? Now she'd gone and made the situation worse. Stephen probably thought she was crazy or at the very least a silly old grouch. She raised her head and took a sip of her coffee and met Emma's gaze.

Emma looked at her with that smug look she used to get when Rose proved her right.

"Okay, you were right!" Rose held up her hand to silence her sister. Maybe she was crazy. Something was seriously wrong with her that's for sure. All the signs pointed to insanity. "Who cares what he thinks?" She looked around but didn't see Emma. "Maybe now those kids will leave me alone."

"Why do they bother you? What are they hurting? You used to love kids. Loved having them in your yard. Loved the noise and commotion. Especially the laughter." Emma appeared next to her.

Rose stood, went to the sink, turned on the water, rinsed a glass, set it in the dish drainer, and wiped the counter. Anything to keep busy, anything to avoid that voice. But Emma wouldn't leave her alone.

"Remember when you helped Francis and his friends build a fort in the back yard? Then Melinda wanted one too. Thank goodness, Frank came home and helped, building one fort was enough. You had so much fun, though. Picture it, remember it, Rose."

"Afterwards we had a big snowball fight." Rose stared out the kitchen window.

 
Even now she saw the two forts on opposite corners of the back yard. Of course Frank's was better than hers.

"There must have been fifteen or twenty kids in the yard that day and even some of their parents joined in. I don't think I knew half their names." Rose turned away from the window and then turned back. "We had a huge snowball fight. Girls against the boys." She swiped at a tear.

"Frank snuck across and tackled me, washed my face in the snow." Rose laughed. "The girls ganged up on him and knocked him down, but that left no one tending their fort. The boys blasted across the yard and tore it down." Rose shook her head. "The girls were devastated and wouldn't talk to Frank for hours after. It was all his fault, they said. He had to build them another fort the next day."

"Then you all came in and had hot chocolate and ordered pizza." Emma touched Rose's shoulder.

Rose felt just a wisp of the touch. It was so slight it could have been her imagination. Probably was. She looked away, hurried into the living room and turned on the television. The shadowy figure had disappeared again. She shivered.

"And the memories, you can't ignore the memories. You'll always have them. You can't go back, but you don't have to live in isolation. You used to have so many friends. You loved life. Look at you, you're shriveling up inside. It's eating you alive. You've turned into a crabby old lady. Is that what you want? The neighborhood grouch, that's what the kids call you." Emma's voice came from behind the couch.

Rose turned the sound on the TV louder and stared at it, not even sure what was on. She wanted to drown out the sound of her sister's voice. She closed her eyes, leaned back, and thought about the friends they had entertained when Frank was alive.

Hardly a weekend went by they didn't have a group of people over for dinner or to play cards. She loved to cook and bake. Like her mother, she started baking Christmas cookies right after Thanksgiving. Often times Francis and Melinda invited their friends to help.

 
"Gee, Mom Asbury," one of their friends had said, "I wish my mom baked like you."

Rose smiled at the memory. Life was good back then. But all that had changed. If only she could bring it back.

Rose stood up, stretched, and turned off the television. She went up to bed and tossed and turned most of the night, finally settling into sleep about five a.m.

Chapter Eleven

The shrill ring of the phone jarred Rose out of a deep sleep. She focused on the green numbers glowing on the clock. Who could be calling at seven in the morning? Her heart skipped a beat. Fear welled up inside. A bitter bile taste filled her mouth. Her stomach churned. Only bad news came at this hour. She hesitated and let the phone ring again. Her hand shook as she grabbed it.

 
"Hello," she answered, afraid to hear the voice at the other end. Afraid something had happened to Francis or Melinda. Terror tore at her heart. She ran her fingers through her uncombed hair and listened to an unfamiliar voice.