Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Lacey

M y mind is clearer. My heart is lighter. I feel refreshed.

I agonized over having a conversation about a difficult topic and, now that it's taken place, I'm relieved.

After we decided to forego our run this morning, I left Carter with Declan on the porch with fresh coffee. Hopefully, they'll enjoy some 'bro time' in the quiet of the morning before joining their mother in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Beautiful. How are you today?"

"It's a little too early to be up and about if you ask me, but here I am," Rose scoffs. "I try to listen to my body when I'm on vacation. You know what I mean, right? I eat when I'm hungry, sleep in a little later ... vacate my normal, everyday life when I get up at six a.m." She smiles. It's obvious this is a special time for her, despite her lazy morning desire because the grin crinkles the corners of her eyes. "I see my boys are up. I'm going to make breakfast."

She goes about her business as I sit quietly. I miss my mother and watching as Rose rummages through the cupboards to get the needed pots and pans reminds me of mine and Mom's lazy weekends. Though Rose seems relaxed, the longer I take in her actions the more I think she looks worn. If I had to take a guess it would be the aftereffect of yesterday's argument.

"Can I help? You look like you might have had a restless night."

"No, thank you. You're too perceptive, Lacey. The argument left me exhausted. I tossed and turned all night. My boys don't often argue, and I don't like it when they do."

"I spoke with Carter this morning. I think I might have convinced him to speak to someone about his obsessive-compulsive disorder."

She stops what she's doing and gives me a surprised look.

"What? You don't think he has a problem?"

"Oh, I know he has a problem. He's been like this since he was a teenager."

"He told me. He thinks he knows exactly when it started."

"He told you that?" She pauses. "When did he say?"

"Before his dad left. When you two were arguing."

Sorrow flashes in her eyes. "I thought that might have been when. The arguing was gradual, then grew in frequency and intensity. Believe it or not, Carter was a very boisterous and vocal kid. I suppose I was too lost in my own troubles to notice. It wasn't until after my husband left that I did." She grabs a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread. "I'm going to make French toast. Do you like it?"

"I do."

"I don't make it all fancy with Brioche. After their father left, I had to watch my budget. This was a cheap and easy meal, but they thought it was fancy."

"You don't have to tell me. I grew up in a trailer park. My mom did the same."

Rose goes back to her task and places an iron skillet on the stove, concentrating on whipping the eggs with milk and a dash of vanilla. "You know, whenever I mentioned something about him seeing a professional, he pooh-poohed it away. He said he was fine."

"I can only speak from experience, but I wouldn't have wanted my mom to worry about me if I could prevent it. I can't say what will happen but, at least we talked about it."

"I'd say you're a miracle worker, Lacey. Carter' a very determined man."

"You mean hardheaded," I add.

A sputtered laugh escapes Rose. "Yes. Exactly." She pauses. "There's no pulling anything over on you, is there?" She lifts two pieces of egg-soaked bread with a fork and sets them in the frying pan. It sizzles and pops, and Rose turns down the flame and turns her attention to me. "Do you mind me asking if you mind Marisol sharing a few days with us? I'm curious."

"Not at all. I say, the more, the merrier. I think Marisol's gorgeous. I'm hoping she'll pass along a few tips for me. As you know, I'm no fashion plate. Money was always tight when I was a kid. I'd like to look a little prettier."

"I think you're perfect," she immediately blurts out. "And I think you're perfect for Carter."

A sweet, comforting feeling comes over me as my lips erupt into a smile. "You think so?"

"Of course, I do." Her expression is tender. "Lacey, the truth is, if I could have picked out a woman who would be perfect for my son, it would be you. You are so swe?—"

Rose stops. A bewildered expression shows on her face as she swoons. I fly to her, terrified she's about to faint and catch her as she grabs onto the countertop.

"Easy. Easy." I soothe, holding her for a moment. We stay there as a measure of silence falls over us both. I reach over and flip off the knob feeding gas to the burner on the stove. After a few moments, she pushes against it and me, righting her posture.

"I'm okay, Lacey," she says, "I'm good."

Gradually, I loosen my hold on her as she incrementally regains a more solid posture. Embarrassed, she puts distance between us and runs her hand over her hair and down her clothes.

"What just happened?" I ask, though I'm about to go get Carter and Declan.

She pooh-poohs me off with a wave of her hand. "It's nothing. It was a little lightheadedness, is all. It's probably because I didn't sleep well. I'm fine now."

I watch, studying her as she shuffles to the refrigerator and retrieves a container of orange juice. I try to help, and grab a glass from the cupboard above me, placing it within her reach on the countertop.

Rose lifts her gaze and presses a quick smile onto her lips. She pours until the glass is half full, then sips it down. I follow her back to the table, where we both take a seat.

"Maybe you shouldn't bother with breakfast today, Rose. I'll go get Carter. If you're up to it, we can go out for breakfast."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to wait a little while."

"That's fine," I assure her. "We can go whenever and wherever you want. Where is your favorite place to eat around here?"

"There is a little place I love, and they serve a lovely brunch."

"Whatever you want," I assure her.

"I think I'd like to lie down. I have a tendency to overdo it on our first day with grocery shopping and washing dishes. Not to mention my restless night."

"And the boys didn't help with their antics," I add.

"No, they didn't, but I'm used to them." She slowly drains the remaining orange juice, stands, and retrieves a paperback book from a small table over in the corner of the room. She tucks it in the crook of her arm and, as she passes me by, places a hand on my shoulder. I look up, my eyes meeting hers. "Please, don't mention anything to Carter or Declan about this little incident, okay? There's no need to worry them. I'm sure that, after a nap, I'll be good as new."

I eye her warily.

"Lacey, please," she pleads, concern written all over her face.

After a moment of hesitation, I nod, though I'm not happy about agreeing.

"Thank you. When I wake up, I'd love to do brunch, if the boys agree. Maybe Declan can get Marisol to join us. It would be nice to get to know her a little better."

"Sounds good," I say softly.

I watch as Rose continues down the hallway to the bedroom door. Once through, the door drifts closed. Somehow, a note, or something like it, cruises on a current of air.

"Rose ..."I call, but she doesn't hear me.

I push out from the table, the chair legs squelching a noise against the linoleum floor. As I approach the bedroom, I tiptoe, so as not to bother her, and pick up the note from the floor. My eye catches on a bright, bold, red magic marker and my breath catches in my throat as I make out the words.