Chapter 9 Rosie
ROSIE
“So what is the plan? You have one, no?” Jeanie asked the following morning.
No one would even consider talking about the latest chapters until I spilled the beans about what happened.
I told them exactly what it was and what I’d been telling myself over and over again for the past twelve hours. He’s happy, and she’s lovely.
Needless to say, Evelyn was rather peeved that Caitlin wasn’t some creature from the black lagoon.
She had concocted a literal spreadsheet of plans if she were.
She wasn’t. She was funny, interesting, and she clearly adored Wesley.
If I were being honest, that made it worse.
Maybe if she were something from the depths of hell, it would have given me the courage to tell Wesley how I felt.
How I’d always felt. Now, the right thing to do was walk away and live with wondering what if.
That was my burden to bear for being silent all those years. The consequence.
“My plan, Jeanie, is to get a cat. I just told you guys that.” I’d always wanted a pet, but wanted it to be an experience I had with my partner.
However, I was beginning to realize that I had to stop waiting for my life to start.
I only had one, and I wanted to live it, whatever that meant.
Right then, it meant I wasn’t waiting for something that I was fully capable of doing on my own.
“I am not talking about a cat, Ma Cherie. I’m talking about Wesley.”
“She knows. She’s just ignoring you,” Orla quipped. “Fuck him. That’s what I say.”
Jeanie tossed her hands up in the air at that point. “Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas chez vous, les Américains? On ne peut pas la laisser commencer à adopter des chats!”
“English, Jeanie. We speak English here,” Maggie reminded her in a way that seemed like she was also scolding her.
“She is beautiful! She cannot become a crazy cat lady. You Americans,” she chastised, but waved her hands at us while we all just laughed her off. Because that was Jeanie—overzealous.
“If the girl wants a cat, let her get a cat. Not everything in life is about men,” Evelyn tells Jeanie.
“Maybe not, but few things in life are better than a good cup of coffee and a good orgasm that you don’t give yourself, Evelyn, and you’d know that if you ever left your smock at home.”
Evelyn sputtered, “How very French of you.”
“How very American of you.”
“You two give me a headache,” Orla ground out. “You argue more than my waitresses.” She brought her hands to her temples to massage them, and her eyes fluttered close.
“Still unreliable?” Maggie asked.
“At best.” Her sigh was audible.
“I have the perfect thing,” Jeanie said as she started searching through her bag, letting out a triumphant cheer when she found what she was digging for and shoved an oval-looking pill in Orla’s face.
“What is this?”
“A Xanax. You need it, no?” Jeanie asked.
“Not in the library, dear.” Meredith appeared like an apparition.
“Put the drugs away, Jeanie. I’m fine. Just need to find some more weekend help, so if you know of anyone.”
“No, but if you don’t want a Xanax, I think I have a gummy in here somewhere…”
“Not in the library.” Meredith tsked again.
“I could always help you out,” I told Orla, and I was serious. It wasn’t like I had anything else planned, and it would get me out of my house and give me something to do.
“Have you ever served before?” Orla asked.
“No, but I’m willing to learn.”
Her eyes raked over me as if I were in a job interview I hadn’t prepared for. Thankfully, she finally spoke. “Okay. Come by tomorrow. Sundays start off slow, but pick up, and we will see how you do.”
I couldn’t help but beam at her, knowing I had passed whatever kind of test she just put me through. For some, it would seem like a bit of a drag, but I was thrilled. New experiences, new routine, new beginnings. And I was ready.
The shrill of my alarm echoed off the otherwise silent library, letting me know it was almost time for my appointment at the local shelter.
I didn’t know what the protocol was, so I called.
They told me to come by at 1 p.m. I didn’t want to be late.
Time had the tendency to slip away from us on those Saturday afternoons.
“Not in the library.” Meredith kept her voice in a whisper, but I knew she was shouting at me.
“Sorry,” I mouthed at her.
“I beg of you not to get the cat, Ma Cherie. We can figure something else out. You’re too beautiful to throw it all away so early,” Jeanie pleaded with me.
“It’s a cat, Jeanie. Take one of those pills in your purse, and you’ll be okay.” Maggie rolled her eyes while keeping the ghost of a smirk on her lips, and she shot me a pointed look. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Oh, yeah.
I jumped up, wishing them all goodbye, and that I would see Orla tomorrow, and they all promised to swing by if they could.
Jeanie made passing comments about grease and fried food, while Orla chastised her for being such a snob.
I made my exit while they were all still bickering, and knew they wouldn’t even notice me leaving once Jeanie dropped the word heathens.
I chuckled all the way out the door, feeling lighter than I had since before dinner.