Chapter 30Rose
Chapter 30
Rose
“I found him, Rose! I found him!” Lauren blurted out as we walked into Fay’s. My heart started beating faster, and my belly clenched. Finally. Our first chance to talk without little ears—well, not so little these days—listening in.
“Up high!” Lauren wiggled her hip onto the stool at our bar table and pushed her hand toward me head height, fingers spread wide. I obliged, knowing what was coming next in her version of a high-five.
“Down low!” She giggled, lowering her hand and turning it palm up. When I made a move to slap my hand on hers, she pulled away at the last moment.
“Too slow, Joe!”
“You’re a dork, a complete dork,” I informed her, hugging the fido out of her. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“Yeah, the phone calls don’t cut it, do they?” Lauren patted my cheek with her impossibly long and polished fingernails and smiled into my eyes. One high heel hung off her foot as she swung her crossed leg back and forth. The same shoes from the drive up—my feet would’ve been aching, but she wore heels every minute of every day.
“Nope. We need in-your-face time.” I smiled back.
An old joke with my first, best and only roomie. My found sister. My ride-or-die.
Literally.
She’d stuck by me and shouted down the mean girls when nobody believed me. She’d bundled me and future-Finn into her car and got us back home to my parents.
Now it was my turn to have her back. Lauren could count on me for any help—legal, illegal or just liquid—in escaping her control-freak-smothering-soon-to-be-ex.
And help in winning the custody battle. Her heartbreak would…well, break my heart if she had to leave her Baby behind.
“Hey, before we get started, I’ve got a new one.” We had a running contest for the most creative and obscure insults. Extra points for incorporating canine references.
“Great! Lay it on me,” Lauren said, raising an expectant eyebrow.
“ Dogbolt . It’s old English, kinda like Oliver, for a wretched, contemptible fellow—definitely like Oliver.”
She giggled again. I loved it when I could make her laugh these days.
Vera ambled up to take our order. We decided on Manhattans—no surprise there. She headed back to the bar, and we got down to business.
“So, Rafe’s uncle. Spill,” I urged.
Of course, Lauren had to drag out the suspense.
“You remember I was trying to narrow down that list of Amato men in the Bay area by searching Facebook and Instagram—right?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” There was no hurrying her at this point. I didn’t know why I was even trying.
“Epic failure, as we expected.” She started laughing, although I didn’t see the humor. “The only guys I found with the surname of Amato looked like they were in their twenties. Not nearly old enough to be Rafe’s uncle.”
I frowned. “Well, then. Doggone it. So much for my idea….”
“Until.…” Lauren grinned big time.
“Until?”
“Until I got smart. Lucky, really. I saw a post from one of the guys, with a ‘like’ and a comment from a woman…”
She paused. Aaand I was having second thoughts about her moving up here.
“…by the name of Angelina.”
Lauren must have seen something on my face because she reached over and grabbed my hand.
“Oh, girl, it gets better.”
My face scrunched up. I pressed my knuckles below my eyes to blot the sudden tears. Of course, our drinks arrived at that critical moment. I stared down at my lap while Vera unloaded her tray. We murmured our thanks, and she left.
When I looked up, Lauren had pulled out her phone and sat it face down between us.
“First, Rose,” she said, raising her Manhattan, “a toast to the good luck we both deserve.”
We clinked our glasses and tossed off healthy doses. Then she flipped over her phone and tapped her way to a screen.
“I linked to her page, and our girl Angelina seems to post her entire life on Instagram. Including these pics from a recent birthday party for her dad.” Lauren pushed her phone over in front of me.
I was looking at Rafe. Rafe, ten or fifteen years older. But Rafe.
Yeah, his uncle had longer hair, more pounds, deeper wrinkles on his smiling face. Even so, the strong family resemblance was there. Angelina’s brother and another younger guy, all crowded close for a group photo, had it too. The Amato men “look.”
My tears escaped, sliding down my face. Lauren reached around me and hugged me tight.
“When are you going to tell him, Rose?” she said softly.
“I’m not,” I breathed out. “At least, not right away.”
“Okaaay…. Help me understand here. You’ve found Rafe’s lost family—his uncle, his cousins, maybe more relatives. You don’t want to pass on the good news to him?”
I swallowed around the big lump in my throat. “He doesn’t know we’ve been searching, right?”
“Right. You wanted to keep it secret in case nothing panned out.”
“There’s another reason. He’s so…private, so…reserved in many ways.”
“Reserved? Really? That’s not what you said when we talked earlier.” Lauren gave me an exaggerated wink.
“Oh, snap!” Now it was my turn to laugh. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. In fact, what’s the opposite of reserved? Friendly, outgoing, forthcoming? Yeah, that’s Rafe when we’re together together .”
We grinned at each other for a moment and took swigs of our drinks.
“No, what I mean is that I’ve had to coax him to talk about his past. Well, to talk period. He’s shared some things, but I feel he’s holding stuff back. I realize a lot of veterans don’t like to talk about their experiences. My intuition tells me there’s more to it than that.”
I paused and winced. “I’m afraid he might get upset or even mad that I’ve looked into his background without asking him first.”
“Is that gonna hold you back?”
“You know what? Nope. I refuse to be a scaredy dog.” I sat up straighter on my stool and wiped my eyes. “If this search for his mom’s family results in something good for Rafe, I’m gonna do it.”
“You go, girl,” Lauren cheered and raised her glass to me.
“So here’s the thing. I want to reach out to the family first , before I tell Rafe.”
“Why’s that?”
“I need to take the hit if his uncle doesn’t want to acknowledge him, or if there are some bad feelings in the family.” I shook my head. “I don’t want Rafe hurt.”
“Makes sense. How can I help?”
“Let’s start with Angelina. Since we still don’t know her dad’s name, maybe she’d be willing to introduce us. What do you think about DMing her? Could you help me compose the message?”
“Of course! Let’s get going on a draft right away.” She pulled her phone back and opened up her notes app. “When do you want to send it?”
Vera delivered another round of drinks to our table, along with a basket of Fay’s spicy tater tots and dipping sauce. We needed something to soak up the Manhattans. Lauren must have given the high sign to Kurt behind the bar while I’d been gaping at the photos.
“I’m thinking I’d like to contact Angelina after Thanksgiving—maybe even Monday or Tuesday. People are usually super busy with family things the entire long weekend—look at us.”
Yep, we had turkey day prep Wednesday, the big day itself, a meeting to plan the grocery store pilot on Friday, the Turkey Dog Jog the next day, and the Finn-and-Lauren-leaving-and-me-crying-all-day on Sunday. Busy, busy, busy this year—the one benefit being there wasn’t much time to be sad about Mom…and the other people I’m losing.
“Except…” I sighed. “Except the problem is…I might not hear back before Rafe leaves.”
“Wait…he’s still leaving?” Lauren asked, her eyes widening in shock.
“Uh-huh. He’s had this commitment in Boise like…forever. What’s changed is that he got a call yesterday that they want him sooner. Like early next week. The owners decided to visit their children before they leave on their trip and wanted to get Rafe over there ahead of schedule.”
“Oh, damn, Rose. That’s coming right up. Have you guys talked about what happens after that job is over? About him coming back here?”
“Coming back to the roastery…or coming back to me?”
“To you, girl.” Lauren rolled her eyes.
That’s the question. Does Rafe have staying power, or will he leave and not return, like the others?
“Nope, we haven’t talked yet,” I admitted. “Guess I’m afraid of what he’ll say. Maybe it’s all in my mind—this closeness between us. Maybe it’s just pure physical chemistry, nothing more.”
You know better, girl. He wouldn’t be doing all these things for you, he wouldn’t be saying words of more than two syllables to you if he doesn’t care. Would he?
“Anyway, Rafe hasn’t asked, and I haven’t invited…so far.”
“Time’s a-wasting, Rose,” she cautioned. “I get it’s hard for you to trust, but you gotta put yourself out there. He’s not a mind-reader.”
I sighed and finished off my drink. No argument there.
His toothbrush and toothpaste were nowhere to be seen—ditto for his shaving gear and nail clippers. His toiletry bag had disappeared from under the sink too. The dresser drawer I’d cleared out for him was barren—I’d checked there first thing.
Even the shrinking supply of condoms on the bedside table had vanished. Although by mutual agreement—and, yes, trust—we’d dispensed with those barriers a while back.
I peeked into the shower. Hmmm…nothing different here.
Wait. Is that a brand-new bottle? Could’ve sworn we had at least half of one left.
Oh. I squeezed my eyes shut. Rafe’s strong fingers massaging the shampoo from my head down through my hair, me returning the favor on his silky short cut. Kneeling in front of him, water buffeting my back.
I turned to stare at myself in the mirror, rubbing one hand back and forth, back and forth, across my lips. What a crybaby—shaky, head-achy and holding back tears.
Well, that was partly from those three Manhattans on little food. But mainly the teary state swelled up when I’d come home to find Rafe gone. I didn’t know why I was getting so worked up. I’d told him to move out, after all.
Shuffling into the bedroom, I stood by his side of the bed. Pirate chose that time to grumble again, turning around twice in the bed he usually shared with Princess before settling down with a huff. He was sulking because I’d yelled at him to stop scratching at the closed bedroom door.
I grabbed Rafe’s pillow and buried my face in it. Inhaling deeply, I got all those notes of roasted coffee, dark chocolate, even roses— roses?…strange— that seemed to cling to him. After a minute or three of indulgence, I crawled into his spot and pulled up the covers.
It was some time before I could sleep.