“It’s none of the damn shareholder’s business who I’m sleeping with,” Ronnie snapped. “It’s not like they can vote me out of office.”
“You don’t own controlling interest, Veronica. Don’t forget that.”
“Actually, Mother,” Susan interjected. “With Tommy’s shares between us we hold fifty percent of the stock. All we need is Frank, Michael, or John to vote with us and we have controlling interest.”
“So that’s it?” Beatrice’s lips were pursed, her frustration obvious. “Fine. If Veronica wants to throw her life away and you’re willing to help her, so be it. I’ll call a cab from downstairs.” She stormed out of the office, leaving the sisters alone again.
“Well that was productive,” Ronnie sighed as she sank into her chair. “I finally stand up to her and it doesn’t even matter because Rose is gone anyway.”
“You know I’m never going to hear the end of this, don’t you?” Susan said. “I’ll guarantee there’ll be a message on my machine when I get home.”
“I know, Sis. I’m sorry you had to get in the middle of it.” She picked up her pen, the present making her heart ache even more for her beloved Rose.
“Ronnie…do you want me to try and talk to Rose?”
“Do you think it would make any difference? She won’t talk to me.”
“I don’t think it could hurt,” Susan said.
“I’d make a deal with the devil if I thought it would get her to talk to me again.” She looked up at her sister. “Please. If you think there’s anything you can do or say to make her understand how I feel, do it.”
“Which motel is she at?”
“The Maverick on Central. About eight miles west of the Arcadia.”
“That’s almost on the city line of Schenectady, isn’t it? The one that puts out all those gaudy Christmas decorations each year?”
“That’s the place.”
“I’ll go talk to her but you need to tell me what really happened that night. She deserves to know the complete truth, not just whatever those papers she found told her.”
Ronnie hesitated, then nodded in agreement. “I was out at Sam’s…”
“There you go sweetie,” Rose said as she put the plate of canned food down for Tabitha. She threw the empty can in the trash just as there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“Susan Cartwright.”
“Um…” Rose looked out the peephole, verifying that the redhead was alone. “I’m not really in the mood for company right now,” she said softly.
“Rose, it really is rude to leave someone standing outside the door.”
“But…” Reluctantly she undid the chain and bolt. She opened the door. “Susan, if this is about Ronnie…”
“Of course it’s about Ronnie,” the redhead said as she entered the room. “My sister is heartbroken and you won’t even give her the chance to explain. Hello, Tabitha.”
“Mrrow.”
“There is nothing really left to say, is there?”
“You tell me.” Susan sat down on one bed and motioned for the young woman to sit on the other.
“She lied to me.”
“Yes she did…about the accident. Not about how she feels for you. There’s a difference.”
“How can anything built on a lie be real?” Rose stood up and limped over to the tiny cube refrigerator to get some bottled water.
“Again, she lied about the accident. Everything else was real, Rose. Her feelings for you are real and you have to know that.”
“I know she feels something,” the young woman responded after she returned to her seat.
“If you could see her, you’d know that she feels more than something.” She reached out and took Rose’s hand. “Listen to me. We’re talking about my sister here. I know her. She’s not one to take people’s feelings lightly, especially her own.” Susan let go and looked down. “Rose, this is killing her. She’s not eating, she’s not sleeping, nothing matters to her now.”
“It hasn’t been a picnic for me either,” she confessed.
“Then why not go and talk to her? Come on, Rose. Think about it for a minute. If all she wanted to do was cover her tracks, then why did she stick around at the hospital? Why didn’t she just drop you off and let them worry about taking care of you?”
“I don’t know…maybe she felt guilty.”
“Tell me something Rose, when the two of you, you know…did it feel like guilt to you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why do you assume that everything she did came from guilt?” Susan smiled inwardly at the confused look on Rose’s face. “If she was just guilty, she wouldn’t have opened up her home to you. She wouldn’t have gone to the lengths she did to take care of you. Look, I know you’re hurting too but you have to look at the whole picture. Ronnie loves you.”
“How am I supposed to forgive her?” The young woman asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
“It’s been six months and I still can’t walk without pain. I have scars.”
“You see this?” Susan rolled her sleeve up to reveal a small white scar near her elbow. “Ronnie and I were fooling around on our bicycles and she wiped out causing me to fall. I broke my elbow and had to spend the summer in a cast. I still can’t extend that arm completely and I know whenever it’s going to rain now. Do you think I shouldn’t have forgiven her for that?”
“Of course not. It was an accident,” Rose said.
“Exactly. It was an accident when she caused me to fall off my bike and it was an accident when she hit you with her car.”
“It’s not the same, Susan.”
“Isn’t it? Tell me something, Rose. Do you think she meant to hit you with her car?”
“No.”
“Then it was an accident, right? Even if it was her fault it was still an accident.” She shifted on the bed, trying to find a spot where the springs weren’t trying to poke through the thin blanket.
“What do you remember about that night?”
“Not much,” Rose admitted. “I was trying to get home and some men started chasing me. I remember running through the park and then onto Madison. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital.”
Susan nodded, the events fitting with her sister’s description. “Did you run out from the corner or the middle of the street?”
“I think it was the middle. It was snowing, I don’t know.”
“Ronnie says she was going up Madison when you darted out from between some parked cars. She said there was no way for her stop in time.”
“Then why make up the story about coming up after the accident?”
“She had some wine at dinner and worried she would be arrested for drunk driving. Yes, she lied to cover herself but she made sure you were taken care of. She tried to do the responsible thing, Rose. You have to give her credit for that.”
“It was an accident,” the young woman whispered. “If she hadn’t been drinking…”