7. Carter
7
CARTER
R osie is sitting on the step in front of my house, hunched forward as she leans against her knees where her dark fingernails tap, her braid to the side perfectly set. Her scowl would be concerning if it wasn’t for the fact that I can see that it’s a facade because she’s horrible at pretending. I was married to her. You learn every little detail of someone.
The sun is out, which adds to the sheen of sweat for my workout of carrying boxes and luggage into my house. Every time I pass her, her eyes follow me.
As I’m pulling out another box, she seems to shift in her watch post. “Are you sure I can’t at least grab something? This is ridiculous.”
I stop mid box pull from her trunk and quickly flash her a pointed look, and at last her dampened smile breaks out. “Rosie…” I quickly look around to ensure nobody is around to hear. “You’re pregnant. Over my dead body are you carrying this stuff inside. I let you carry your yoga mat and that’s all you will be doing.”
“Fine,” she huffs.
I’m relieved she’s been feeling a little better. More tired than sick, although her stomach wooziness comes and goes.
“This is the last of it, anyhow.”
Holding the box in one hand, I shut the trunk. Walking back into the house, Rosie joins me. I drop the box by the bottom of the stairs and opt for a little break.
She goes to the kitchen without me saying a word about how I need a drink. She has brisk steps, and all I can do is follow her with my lips rolled in and fighting a grin.
Noticing that she’s already grabbing two glasses, I lean against the counter and watch her pull out a pitcher of iced tea that she then pours into the glasses. My lips are sealed because she may throw something at me if I point out that she’s already made herself at home.
She sticks her arm out and offers me a glass. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
She takes a small sip then smacks her lips, causing her wince. “This tastes weird.”
“Tastes fine to me.”
“Ugh. Another thing to add to my list of side effects of a reckless night. My sense of taste has gone haywire,” she complains with a lightened tone.
“Reckless?” My brows rise from her brazen choice of definition.
She rolls her eyes to the side and her cheeks tighten from her own humor. “We’re going to have to revisit what to call it one day.”
Enjoying another sip, I’m not worried. “That’s going to be a fun conversation,” I answer dryly.
She sputters a laugh. “True.” Her focus changes to something else, and she searches my kitchen with her gaze. “Maybe I should try eating something.”
“There are some cookies in the jar over there.” I indicate with my nose. She is quick to lift the lid, but I have to stop her. “Not that one. Those are Jet’s treats.”
Her jaw goes slack before she grins with her soft pink lips. “I thought you can’t stand that dog. Someone mentioned it at the wedding, and then you pointed out to me why there are holes all over the garden when you gave me the grand tour earlier.” I do my best to avoid her gaze. “Ooh, somebody has a soft spot,” Rosie sings and slides the jar to the side. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
I roll a shoulder back. “It’s more to throw over the fence and get him out of my yard kind of thing. He sometimes wanders here.”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She pops the lid on the cookie jar and then her smile fades to affection as she picks up a cookie. “Pink wafers.”
Scratching my stubble, I try to downplay this. “Yeah, you mentioned the other week about having a craving for them.”
Lines form on her forehead. “For like a millisecond, I mentioned.” She holds up the cookie with a half-smile before taking a big bite. “Thank you. It’s exactly what I need.” Her mouth is full, but I got the gist.
“Just say what you need, and I’ll get it at the grocery store.”
She brushes a crumb from her mouth. “I can handle the grocery store on my own.”
“I know. Just thought with your morning sickness and smells and town gossip that maybe you would want to hide out a little.”
“I think I’ll be okay the next few days. Gracie is living in Everhope now.” My second cousin. “Plus, I’ll head down the street to see Esme and Hailey.” Esme is married to Keats, and she’s also another neighbor on Everhope Road.
“They won’t ask much if I say not to. Then I’m another week gone and almost to the twelve-week mark by the time the town realizes I’m really back, and then give it another few weeks before they discover the baby news. We can handle it all in waves.”
My lips quirk out, and I tilt my head to the side from her logic, and it makes sense. “We can give that a try. It’s just, well, my mom requires a different plan.”
“Ah shoot, you’re right. We need an entire wall to work out a map and project scope of how to handle her,” she teases me. “I’m well aware that Nancy Oaks will be the biggest obstacle of them all. But I don’t want to think about that now. Do you mind if I start to unpack?”
“Sure. I’ll help with the heavy stuff.” I gesture lazily behind me to the living room. “I’m going to take a wild guess that the tea set, incense, pillows, and basket of yoga supplies will find a place in the living room.”
She seems to enjoy the fact that I’m right and grimaces to herself. “It would be kind of odd to bring out the old photos of us, so yes. We will be sticking to simple objects.”
Gently, I shake my head at her humor before we head upstairs.
The moment she’s in the room, she hops onto the bed then feels the duvet with the palm of her hand.
“Comfy.”
Standing in the doorway, I watch her, realizing she’s under my roof but in the wrong bed. I swallow and inhale a long breath because I can’t think that.
“I wouldn’t know. I have a bedroom not so far from here.” And fuck me, I just did what I said I couldn’t think about. Worse is that I had a flirty tone.
Rosie wiggles her finger side to side at me. “I’ll be staying here in this bed for a while.” Her jaw sets to the side when she realizes that a while can be perceived as a temporary time.
Neither of us say anything, and we begin to search the room frantically for something to occupy us. Clearing my throat, I step forward and pick up her laptop bag to set on the dresser.
“Just make yourself at home. Do what you want with the room, the kitchen, living room, hell, wherever.”
“Of course.” She grabs a quilt, the one her aunts made for her when she was in college, and throws it onto the bed. “The, uh, other spare rooms. I mean, it’s extra space, and the baby will need to take up residence somewhere. It’s just that it’s a little permanent on the future front. Maybe we can address that issue when it’s time to figure out the living situation and which room to decorate as a nursery, and hopefully a nursery is needed in only one house… mine.” She avoids my eyes.
It's a fair point, even if there is an obvious answer for me. “Don’t worry yourself with it right now. Just take it easy.”
She offers me an appreciative look. “That sounds good.” Rosie kicks her sandals off and crawls back until her head lands on the mound of pillows. “Maybe I’ll take a little power nap before conquering all of this.”
“Good idea. I’ll help you later.”
“Thanks.”
I let her be but return a few minutes later when I realize I forgot to give her towels. I sneak in to set them in the bathroom but pause when I exit. I take a moment to take in the view of Rosie sleeping with one leg bent and her hands by her head. Maybe pregnancy is making her more beautiful, but she has a glow.
Deciding that I can’t lurk and watch her all day, I turn my feet to leave, only to see that two stacked boxes are stacked crooked and might fall. I decide to quietly shift them but fail when one box drops. I curse to myself and glance up, but Rosie barely stirs and seems to be deep in sleep. It wasn’t loud since the box is light.
Leaning down to pick it up, one flap is loose, and my eyes drive down to see the contents, and instantly my entire body tugs.
There is an array of troll figures on the floor. Some with different vibrant-colored hair and others more traditional trolls with ugly faces or dressed in national costumes. Anyone would laugh because it’s a funny thing to collect.
Leaning down, I slowly pick up the one in a fur parka with Alaska written on the coat and realize a simple fact. She’s been collecting them on her world trip.
She’s been thinking of me while she was away.
* * *
Rosie patters hesitantly into the kitchen. We are only on day three, and I’m still sensing that she isn’t yet fully comfortable or has made herself at home. My eyes slide into the living room where I see a tray of candles and a holder for incense on one of the living room side tables.
“Morning,” she greets me shyly as I pour my protein shake into my to-go bottle.
“Hey there. I didn’t wake you, did I?” I had duty yesterday and didn’t see her except for a quick check-in on my way out.
She slides onto a stool and gently shakes her head. “Nah, I was up early and couldn’t sleep anyhow.”
“Morning sickness?”
Rosie’s shoulders go slack. “A little. Not like a few weeks ago, thankfully. I just need to eat something as soon as I wake up, I guess.”
Abandoning my shake, I head to the freezer and pull out one of her oat waffles that she toasts. In my peripheral view, I notice the affection on her face, especially when I walk straight to the toaster.
“Thanks. I’ll grab a drink?—”
I cut her off. “Chai tea?”
“You remember?” She sounds surprised, but the faint smile of hers warms me, it’s promising.
“Yeah, you used to drink it while journaling in the morning before I even woke sometimes.”
Her lips press and roll in while she stays silent for a few seconds. “Carter.”
My eyes flick up to link with hers. “Yeah?”
“I know the air between us since I moved in has been a little…”
“Awkward,” I complete her sentence.
She grimaces. “Something like that. I just… I…” She is trying to wrap her words around a feeling, and I notice. “Give me time. To navigate living with you again. It’s new but not new, and my head is a mess and my stomach a rollercoaster. It’s just a lot, and it will be okay, just taking it day by day. I’ll relax, already today feels better than yesterday. I hope you understand.”
Her honesty doesn’t scare me because it’s understandable. “I get it. It’s okay. I’m also tiptoeing around you, unsure what is best for this situation.” Patience. A lot of patience.
She lets a deep breath out. It sounds as though she has been holding it in. “Good. I mean, good that we are on the same page.”
I glance on the clock on the oven and decide to use it as my escape. “I need to get a move on, as I need to be at the courthouse by ten.”
“Right. Well, stay safe. Don’t forget to drink your daily water.”
A short laugh escapes me. “Thank you for your concern. Take it easy, call if you need anything.” Like me.
“Of course. I’m just going to plan some classes and nap.”
Our connected eyes don’t seem to unwind from the knot that keeps our sight on one another. Finally, they drop, and when I leave the kitchen, I feel her gaze on me. It’s heavy but feels good.
There are emotions inside her that need to unravel, and I’ll wait. We have time. I just wish the clock had fewer hours.