Chapter 9
Rosalind
Rosalind’s heart was thumping as she walked quickly back down the hall.
She had planned on asking Jane to dinner, but that was not exactly the way she had rehearsed it in her head.
Besides, once she had gotten to Jane’s office, she had lost her nerve.
She was only planning to ask her because her father had pushed it.
That was probably all there was to it; her father wouldn’t be around for much longer, and it seemed like a simple enough thing to make him happy.
That didn’t account for the flip-flops her stomach was doing, though.
Rosalind went to her office briefly and changed clothes.
She spent considerable time in the mirror putting on makeup and trying to make herself look nice, then became frustrated with the idea.
She didn’t need to be attached to someone in this place.
As soon as all this was over, she planned on joining back up with the Army and leaving it all behind.
Jane would only be a distraction. Granted a gorgeous, exciting distraction, but Rosalind knew she’d never last long in this city; she’d die of boredom.
Jane had never really left Phoenix Ridge, Rosalind knew that much about her, and she knew that she would never be able to stay for long in the same place, especially one that Jane was so beholden to.
Her chest tightened at the thought, but her mind drifted back to the intimate moments they had shared already.
Heat shot through her despite how desperately she tried to ignore it.
She would just tell her tonight that things would never be serious between them; they were just too different.
Still, her make-up was flawless by the time she left the hospital.
She walked the few blocks over to Mario’s, which was now called Maria’s.
Rosalind couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight change in nomenclature.
Somehow it made the place better already.
She walked inside and asked the hostess if Jane had arrived yet, she hadn’t, so the young woman showed Rosalind to a table by the window.
Rosalind ordered a margarita and sipped it slowly while she waited.
The restaurant was loud and bright, with vibrant orange and teal.
Candy skulls lined the booths and hung from the ceiling, like a permanent fixture of Dia de los Muertos.
The atmosphere was jovial, a guitarist was playing on a small stage in the corner, his upbeat Spanish songs making Rosalind’s toes tap.
She could feel the stress from work and her family starting to melt away.
The waiter brought her some tortilla chips and salsa, and Rosalind picked at them, though she wasn’t really hungry, at least she didn’t think she was.
Then she looked up and saw Jane. Her dark blue dress seemed to fit perfectly against her curves, and her dark hair spilled over her shoulders in waves.
Her eyes were heavily lined as usual, and the sharp green irises almost seemed to glow, even in the bright room.
A wide smile spread across her face before she caught herself.
“Hi,” Jane said, her voice slightly apprehensive.
“Hey,” Rosalind answered and gestured to the chair across from her. “I would have ordered you a drink, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“It’s fine,” Jane answered as the server came over to them. She ordered her own margarita and turned her bright eyes on Rosalind. “What do you think of the place?”
“It’s a lot brighter than I remember,” Rosalind said with a slight smile.
“The chips are good.” She nodded toward the basket, still mostly full of tortilla chips.
Jane took one and dipped it into the salsa before popping it into her mouth.
Her red lips puckering slightly as she chewed.
She closed her eyes and savored the salsa, and warmth rushed through Rosalind.
They stared at each other for a few moments, until the tension turned awkward.
“You, uh, you like Mexican food?” Jane asked, and Rosalind suddenly felt self-conscious.
“Honestly, I don’t remember,” Rosalind answered. “We don’t really get to eat like this when I’m deployed, and I’ve been deployed for about as long as I can remember, it’s been pretty difficult to get used to things like this again.”
“Is that good or bad?” Jane asked.
“I suppose that’s all in how you look at it,” Rosalind said and shook her head. “On the one hand, I’m not difficult to please, at least when it comes to food. And on the other, I really don’t know what I like anymore, it’s just that some things are more tolerable than others.”
Jane narrowed her eyes, and Rosalind struggled to read her emotions. “How’s your father?” she asked.
“He was sleeping when I left, Mom was staying with him. I’m not sure if he’ll wake up again,” Rosalind said, and it felt as though a wet blanket settled over them.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Jane said, and her eyes dropped to the table.
“It’s alright, sort of the elephant in the room,” Rosalind said and tried to shake it off.
“I know this is probably about as tactless as it gets, but I’m a little jealous of you,” Jane said after a couple more moments of tense silence.
Rosalind’s eyes narrowed in question.
“You’ve been all over, you’ve seen the world, you’ve led this exciting, adventurous life, and I well… haven’t.”
“You’re an accomplished surgeon, in one of the best hospitals in this country,” Rosalind said with a shake of her head.
“Also, it must be nice to have a place to call home. I never really felt like I belonged here, or anywhere for that matter, that’s probably why I’ve always been on the move.
” Rosalind’s mouth snapped shut. She hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud.
Hell, she’d never even considered it before now.
Why was it so easy to open up to Jane like this?
Jane lifted her eyebrows in surprise at the confession. “So, do you think you’ll be leaving again soon?” She pressed her lips together. She needed the answer to this question much more than she realized.
Rosalind just shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly, but I can’t see myself staying in one place for too long. I guess I’m just too old to change now.” Rosalind noticed how Jane’s face fell, but she caught the expression quickly and turned her lips upward in a smile.
“I understand that. I guess I feel the same way. I’ve always wanted to travel, to see the world, but I think I’m too settled into myself and my family here to really do that, at least as more than just a tourist.”
They stared at each other for a moment. It felt like something grew still, a wedge driven between them.
It didn’t quite fit, though. It was as though the wall between them was flimsy at best. It felt wrong, fake, almost like neither of them actually believed the words they were saying.
Perhaps they were both just going through the motions here, and whatever spark was between them was destined to fizzle out, no matter what they did.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy tonight,” Rosalind said and picked up her margarita, raising it in a toast.
“To tonight,” Jane said, though it felt forced. They tapped glasses and sipped their drinks before settling into another uncomfortable silence.
From there, things only seemed to get worse.
They placed their orders with the waitress, who seemed excited for them, but Rosalind wasn’t sure if it was professional curtesy in the restaurant world, even now she was still unused to the service expectations of being back home.
The guitarist in the corner played a more upbeat song, singing happily in Spanish while they looked at each other, both trying to come up with something to say.
They circled around to talk of work, asking about the patients they’d treated from the cave in, though neither of them was any less informed than the other. Rosalind continued to sip on her margarita, the tequila giving her a warm fuzzy feeling in her head.
“I like this place,” Rosalind said, trying to quell the awkwardness of the situation. “Maria really brought it to life.”
“I agree,” Jane said and averted her eyes. “It had gotten pretty run down under Mario, so really there was nowhere left to go but up.”
“That makes sense, but I remember it from thirty years ago, when Mario was just starting out and trying to make something of it. He did well enough for a while,” Rosalind said and smiled. She locked eyes with Jane and wondered what she was thinking about. Her expression was pensive, almost guarded.
The waitress returned with their plates: Rosalind’s chimichanga buried under a blanket of cheese, Jane’s vegetable fajitas still sizzling excitedly.
Steam clouded the air between them. Jane began assembling her fajita with neat, practiced motions, while Rosalind attacked her chimichanga with clumsy urgency.
She was aware of every bite, every drip of sour cream, as if Jane might be cataloguing them.
The gap between them seemed to grow. Rosalind was so used to the way her mostly male counterparts in the military treated food as just a necessity that watching Jane so delicately eating was surprisingly intimate.
When the check came, they both reached for it at the same time, their hands briefly touched, and Rosalind felt as though she’d been shocked by the brief contact.
She had to be imagining it. There was nothing there.
She had spent the entire meal with Jane, and they couldn’t seem to do much more than penetrate the surface of their relationship.
Once they finished their meal, in a fit of chivalry, Rosalind offered to walk Jane home.
The night air was cool, and Rosalind welcomed the fresh mountain air. As they approached Jane’s apartment building, Rosalind began to struggle with her own emotions. They were overwhelming; it had to be about her family and the pressure, and probably the three margaritas.
“Jane, what are we doing?” Rosalind turned and asked, stopping Jane in her tracks. Jane had enjoyed just as many drinks, so they were both a bit on the buzzy side.
“I don’t understand,” Jane said, her brows furrowing.
“What is this? I know we are attracted to each other, but this whole night has been a surface level, small-talk nightmare, what are we doing?”
“Wow, I didn’t realize I was such awful company,” Jane answered, her eyes sharpening in insult.
“You’re not, but you’re holding back, and so am I, why?”
“I don’t know the answer to that any more than you do,” Jane snapped. They approached the door to Jane’s apartment and Rosalind turned to face her.
“What is blocking us?” Rosalind’s voice caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she wanted to cry and scream and laugh all at the same time.
“We’re blocking ourselves,” Jane said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Then we need to stop,” Rosalind said. She took Jane by the shoulders and pushed her into the door, kissing her hard on lips.
She crushed against her and half-expected Jane to shove her away, but she didn’t.
Instead, Jane took Rosalind’s face in both hands and kissed her back, crushing their lips together and slipping her tongue between Rosalind’s teeth.
Her hands wrapped around the back of Rosalind’s neck and pulled her closer.
Rosalind pressed her body against Jane’s and her veins were set on fire as she moaned into Rosalind’s mouth.
Breathless, she pulled back and looked at Jane.
Her emerald eyes were smoldering with heat and desire, and need pooled deep between Rosalind’s thighs.
“What are we doing?” Rosalind whispered again as she traced her finger lightly across Jane’s lips. She kissed Jane again, softly this time, catching her breath as the scent of Jane’s hair reached her nostrils.
“I have no idea,” Jane answered and opened the door behind her.