Ronnie looked up in surprise. “Yeah.” It was the first time anyone had ever expressed any understanding of her feelings when it came to being the family caretaker. “Tommy just soaked me for almost eighteen grand.”
“Oh my God! Eighteen thousand dollars?”
“It’s not even the money that bothers me,” Ronnie continued, deliberately not focusing on the fact that the amount meant completely different things to each of them. To her, it was a fraction of her savings and would not really be missed. To Rose, well…she did not even want to think about what it meant to the young woman who spent less than twenty bucks a week on groceries.
“It’s the fact that he used you,” the blonde woman guessed.
“He forged my signature on a bank loan. I can’t imagine why he would need a cosigner for that small amount anyway but I don’t manage his finances. I just can’t believe he had the balls to do that and then not bother to repay it.” As she spoke, Ronnie’s voice betrayed more of her anger and outrage. “He knew I’d take care of it. He knew the bank would never question my signature on a loan for him.”
“He used you.”
“He used me.” She looked at her desk and the still unsolved problems that waited for her there. The enormity of the problem made her take a deep breath. “I’m going to have to call for an audit of the Real Estate division.”
“Do you think he’s embezzling?”
“If you asked me that yesterday, I would have said that I wasn’t sure.” She leaned over and picked up the manila folder. “Today? Now I know he’s embezzling, I just can’t prove it.” She let the folder fall back on the desk with a thwap. Her body was a bundle of nervous energy and she needed to release it. “Rose, I need to go downstairs and work out for a while. Do you think you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” the young woman assured her. “I know you have things to do. You don’t have to keep me company all the time.”
, she thought to herself.. She stood up and pushed her chair back over to the desk. “I’ll be back in about a half-hour or so. If you’re up to it we can go out into the living room and watch some more movies.”
“That’d be nice.”
, the executive thought.
A grueling workout did nothing to improve Ronnie’s mood, which only seemed to worsen the longer she thought about her brother and what he had done. The punching bag suffered an onslaught of blows, accented by a string of curses that would make even the most raucous sailor blush. Only when she was thoroughly exhausted did she remove the boxing gloves and head for the small refrigerator to get something to drink. As she removed the last bottle of Gatorade, Ronnie noticed the clock on the wall. It was after three, well past the half-hour that she had planned on being gone. “Dammit.”
The door opened to the office fifteen minutes later with a freshly showered Ronnie holding a videotape. “Sorry, guess I got caught up in what I was doing. We still on for the movie?”
“Oh, yes. Of course,” Rose smiled. She had heard the muffled sounds of Ronnie working out, or raging, depending on how one looked at it, and seriously doubted the executive would be up to spending time with her.
As she had done yesterday, Ronnie used her brute strength to carry the wheelchair and its occupant past the steps of the sunken living room and helped Rose onto the couch. “I thought a romantic comedy would be nice…unless you prefer something else?”
“No, I’m sure whatever you’ve picked will be fine,” the young woman replied enthusiastically. And it was the truth. Rose would have been happy to watch a test pattern if that was what Ronnie wanted. The initial awkwardness was quickly fading, replaced with a sense of friendship and caring for the woman who befriended her. She was surprised when the executive did not lower the snack tray that had served as a barrier between them before and even more astonished when Ronnie sat down on the middle cushion, only scant inches away from her. “Don’t you want your footrest?”
“Naw, I feel like sitting up for a while,” she replied, tucking her feet underneath her Indian-style.
“You comfortable?”
“Very.”
“Good.” She pressed the play button on the remote and fast-forwarded through the trailers until she saw the Feature Presentation logo. “Here we go.”
The opening scene was almost over when Rose’s nose picked up a most delicious scent.
“Popcorn?” As if on cue, Maria appeared from the kitchen with a large bowl of the treat in hand as well as several napkins.
“If you don’t need anything else, I do need to be going,” Maria said as she handed the bowl to Ronnie. “Dinners are in the refrigerator, microwave on medium for three minutes to heat them up.”
“I think we’re all set, Maria. Drive carefully.”
“I’m only going home, Ronnie. You’d think I lived ten miles away,” the older woman said. “I could walk if it weren’t so darn cold outside.”
“I know, but I’m still allowed to worry about you. After all, who’d do all the cooking and cleaning if you weren’t around?” The twinkling in her blue eyes was the only sign that the blackhaired woman was joking.
“Ronnie!” Rose yelped. Maria chuckled.
“Keep it up, Veronica Louise, and you’ll find out.” She turned to Rose. “You keep an eye on her.”
“I will,” the young woman promised with a smile.
Once Maria left, Ronnie backed the tape up to the beginning and the two women settled in to watch Richard Dreyfuss try to win Marsha Mason’s heart. The popcorn bowl rested between them and both women were busily stuffing the buttered snack into their mouths. As was bound to happen, the large and small hands reached in at the same time and the greased fingers intertwined. “Oops,” came the simultaneous apology as their digits were disengaged from one another.
“Good popcorn,” Rose said as she reached back in, this time making sure to stay on her own side of the bowl.
“Yeah, really good.”
As the movie wore on and the popcorn supply dwindled, their hands continued to brush against each other in pursuit of the tasty kernels. After the fourth or fifth time, both gave up apologizing and just let it happen without comment. Rose still did her best to avoid touching Ronnie’s hand, but it seemed to always be on her side of the bowl. When only the tiniest pieces were left along with unpopped kernels, the older woman moved the bowl over to the unoccupied cushion. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything would be fine. Water is good.”
“Uh huh.” Ronnie rose gracefully from the couch and wandered out to the kitchen, returning a minute later with soda for each of them.
“Thanks,” Rose said, taking the glass. “Do you want to back it up so you can see what you missed?”
“Naw, I’ve seen this one several times.” She sat back down and tucked her legs underneath herself. “I’m a sucker for a good romance story.”