CHAPTER 13 - Amon

E ven though my weekend was very busy with work at the compound, I could've found time to swing by Rosie's place at some point. But I had already planned this day and anyway, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It's Monday, which means Rosie Harlow is working at the diner in Revenant. She's gonna have her hair pulled back in some messy old-timey updo, she's gonna be wearing a pink waitress uniform, and she might even be clicking some gum.

So I'm gonna pay her a little visit down there and I'm gonna show up in style.

The motorcycle isn't mine—it belongs to Lucas, the leader of a colorful motorcycle club here in Revenant called the Deceivers that riles up the Revival people up in Disciple every now and then as part of the script. He's Collin's cousin. But it's a nice bike with a stars and stripes theme to it.

I'm dressed like Lucas's twin—clothes not borrowed—with a black biker jacket and boots to match, a white t-shirt underneath, and some faded, nearly threadbare, jeans.

I park the bike in front of the diner, revving it up and making noise to announce my arrival. Things are always dead down here in Revenant on Mondays, so there's really no one to see me. Just the woman who matters.

Rosie is peeking out the window as she wipes down a table and when she realizes it's me, her whole face lights up. And that smile makes all the trouble it took to create this moment worth it.

I open the door to the diner and find her waiting for me at the hostess station. Now Rosie Harlow is an actor. She don't live in Hollywood and she's never played a part outside of the Revival, but she knows a scene when she's presented with one. And besides, I already told her we were gonna court in costume.

So she's ready for this and when she says, "Good morning," to me, it comes out like a coo. "Table for one?"

"How about… table for none?"

One eyebrow goes up. But she doesn't break when I turn and start walking over to the jukebox. I brace myself with both hands as I lean down, pretending to study the songs inside. Then I casually look over my shoulder so I can side-eye her.

Rosie Harlow is smiling, wondering just what the hell I am gettin' up to. I glance around the diner, which isn't empty, but nowhere near full, either, and find Jonesy Price, the cook and owner of the Revenant diner, winking at me from behind his kitchen counter. I cleared all this with him first, as one does when they are about to disrupt a working day to charm the skirt off a woman.

I turn, just as the distinctive opening of ‘Stand By Me' begins to play. Then I lean against the jukebox, letting her get a good look at me. Her smile grows and when I push off, extending my hand in her direction as the song eases into that first verse, she blushes.

We're only about ten steps apart, so it's just moments later when she takes my hand and I spin her around in a complete circle, hugging her up close to me when she stops.

She's looking right into my eyes, her face filled with intrigue, fascination, and probably a little bit of embarrassment too, since we're dancing in a diner, she's on the clock, and there are a dozen people watching us.

I hold her close, my arms all the way around her waist, our bodies moving slowly to the beat of the song, and I whisper in her ear, "Let's go for a ride on that bike outside."

She huffs out a little air. "I'm working, Amon."

"Well, if you want to come with me, I've taken care of that little problem ahead of time."

We stop dancing and she looks up at me. "In my waitress uniform?"

"Go check your locker." She huffs again. But I just encourage her. "Go on. Check it. I'll be waiting out front."

Rosie looks around, finds Jonesy's beaming face on the other side of his kitchen counter. He says, "Go on. Get out of here. We got ya covered."

She looks back at me one more time, then lets out a breath and makes her way to the back where the break room is.

I salute Jonesy with two fingers to the side of my head. "I owe you one." And then I go out front and arrange myself on the bike, sitting sideways with legs kicked out in front of me, arms crossed, so when Rosie comes out a few minutes later, she can get a good long look at me.

Her laugh is immediate. It's neither a mocking laugh nor a bemused one. It's good-natured astonishment. "What are you doin?"

Her outfit is a more feminine version of mine and it came straight out of McBooms because I went over there on Sunday and I took Lowyn McBride with me. So this outfit right here that she's wearing is right up Rosie's alley.

I stand up, unbuckle two helmets from the handlebars, swing my leg over the bike, put my helmet on and offer her the second. Then I nod behind me. "Get on and find out."

She doesn't even hesitate. She comes over, takes the helmet, and a moment later her breasts are pushing up against my back, her sweet, warm breath gliding over my neck as she coos, "You're fun, Amon Parrish."

I smile, kick the bike, and tell her, "Hold on," as I pull away from the curb and point us downhill on the loop highway.

It's a beautiful summer morning and the ride down the highway is picturesque. Every time I drive around, I marvel at how pretty West Virginia is. There are lots of pretty places in this world. It's easy to get lost in the ugly, especially with the job I had. It was a lot of cities—which can be beautiful in their own way if you've got a forty-thousand-foot view and all you see are the tall buildings, or the waterfront, if it has one, or the exotic things to do. But cities are mostly just a collection of chaos when you get up close.

So when I had the chance I would remind myself to appreciate places filled with nothin' but slow livin'. And West Virginia is like this. We've got our own chaos here, of course. But we've wrapped a little bubble around Trinity County and the surrounding areas.

This is not a bad thing, in my opinion.

I'm taking Rosie to the Canyon Rim Boardwalk just outside Lansing because it's close, it's pretty, and it's got a helluva view of the New River Gorge Bridge. Of course, I've been here many times—as has Rosie, I presume. We came as a class three or four times in school. But I haven't seen it since I've been back and I doubt very much that Rosie has been here recently either.

We arrive at the visitors' center and Rosie hops off, removing her helmet. I kick the stand down on the bike and do the same, then secure both helmets to the rear seat.

When I turn back to Rosie, she's smiling at me. "What?" I ask.

"You. You're so… different."

"Different good or different bad?"

"Neither. I mean, as a boy, and from a distance, you were always nice."

I grin. "Always in trouble too."

"Yeah. You were. But that was the outside you. The inside you has always been considerate. You were just a little bit wild, that's all. Itching to see the world, maybe."

"I guess I was. And I got my wish. But now all I want is to be back." I could say more here. I could make the whole declaration. Move things along, get her to agree to be exclusive. But I don't want to miss out on the stuff that comes before that. I want us to take our time.

"And settled?" Rosie asks. Like she's reading my mind.

"Something like that." I point to the path that leads to the boardwalk. "Ready?"

Rosie takes a breath and chuckles. "Well, the walk down isn't the part you need to be ready for, is it? It's the walk back up."

"Don't worry, I'll piggyback you if ya get tired."

And this makes her blush. While she's doing that, I offer her my hand. She looks at it dubiously. "Seriously, Amon? You wanna hold hands?"

"Why not?"

"It's just… kinda high school, don't you think?"

"You don't like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it. It's not that I don't like any of this. The costumes, the dates, the effort ." She stresses that last word. "Because you are definitely putting in the effort. But… why me?"

I wiggle my still-open hand at her. "Walk with me and I'll tell ya."

Rosie's eyes roll up a little, but only a little. She likes this courting thing I'm doing, but she's wary. She wants to fall for it, but at the same time the rational part inside her is filled with caution. Telling her to guard her heart.

And once again, in my head, I see her that day in high school. Standing there in the cafeteria with that look of horror on her face as her water broke.

That was the first time I ever saw fear. Like real fear. I would witness thousands of ways in which fear could manifest in the years after that, but Rosie Harlow, a teenager on the verge of giving birth, was the very first time and I will never forget it.

She comes towards me and slides her hand in mine. Instantly, there's a connection. I didn't come back with Rosie in mind, but she was the very first person I saw from Disciple when I got coffee that morning. And ever since then, we just seem to find each other.

We're quiet at first as we make our way down the first part of the boardwalk, which is an easy-sloping ramp, taking our time and just looking at the forest all around us as we descend into the New River Gorge. It's still very early, but getting to the first lookout to see the magnificent single arch bridge is easy, so there's a small crowd of families.

If you keep going to the lower one, the rest is mostly steps.

We keep going and Rosie doesn't complain, even though the way back up is gonna be a hike.

When we get down to the lower platform we lean on the railing and take in the view. It's a sea of green trees with the bridge and river below as the main focus.

Rosie turns a little, looking at me. "It's nice."

"It is," I agree.

"You're a good date planner, Amon."

"You're worth the effort, Rosie."

She laughs. "Oh, my God. You're so…" But she can't find the word, so she just shakes her head.

"So… perfect?" I ask, teasing her a little, but only a little. Because I am making an effort.

To my delight, she agrees with me. "Yes. That. But… seriously, I'm not the only single woman in Disciple, Amon. You could have your pick. You know that, right?"

"Well… I did have my pick."

She blushes pink now and I turn away, looking at the bridge again to give her a moment. But I've got things to say to her and right now is a good enough time to do that. And anyway, this is what she's looking for. She wants to know why I'm putting in so much effort and it's a reasonable question that I am more than willing to answer.

So I turn back to her, ready to say all the things and put her heart at ease, but I find that she is frowning. And not some slight frown, either. But a deep one that goes all the way up to her eyes. "What?" I ask. "What did I do?"

"You? Nothing, Amon. You didn't do anything. But before this goes any further, I need to tell you something."

"OK." My heart beats a little faster. Because this was a little speed bump I wasn't expecting. "What is it?"

"Remember those letters?"

"The ones I sent into the lab for testing?"

"Yeah. Those. Well…" She bites her lip and wrings her hands a little.

"What, Rosie? What is it?"

"I know who they're from."

"Who?" This comes out a little bit too loud and a little bit too surprised as well.

"Cross's daddy."

"What?" Now that right there is a little more than a speed bump. "How do you know?"

She begins to tell me the story of her illumination and how she ended up at some waterfall just outside Fayetteville. Not far from here, actually.

"It's where we used to go," Rosie says. "When we were kids, ya know?"

"What's his name?" As soon as it's out I know I shouldn't have asked. Especially since it comes out kinda mean. So I really don't expect an answer, but she surprises me.

"Erol Cross."

"Cross?"

"Yeah. I named our son after him. By the time Cross was born Erol had been missing a few weeks already."

"Missing? What kind of missing? Like people kidnapped him or he fell off a cliff or something? What happened to him?"

Rosie shrugs. "I don't know. I still don't know. But he was gone before I even gave birth."

"So that's why you were so scared that day."

She crinkles her face at me. "What?"

"When your water broke at school. I was looking right at you when it happened and I had never seen somebody look so scared."

Rosie smiles, then laughs. "Oh, wow. I haven't thought about that moment in years." Then she frowns again. "So that's why you said that."

"Said what?"

"Alone and scared. In your ad. That's how you remember me. Pregnant and terrified. On the verge of giving birth. All by myself."

"Was I wrong?"

"No. I was scared. And sad, too. Erol and I had made a lot of plans."

"And that was the moment that you realized they were ruined?"

Rosie nods.

"OK. All right. So…" I look at her in earnest now, staring deep into those gray eyes. Because there is only one reason why she felt so compelled to tell me this story right now, in the middle of our date. And that's because she loved him.

"So…" Rosie picks up the sentence I didn't finish. "So I just figured you should know. He's back. Cross's father is back and wrote me a real letter."

There is a crushing feeling inside my chest. Like I just got the worst news ever. My mind is jumping with scenarios, trying to figure out which way is up, as I come to terms with the idea that this… might not work out.

She might not want me.

Which leaves me with only one more thing to say. "Do you want him, Rosie?"