“Some clothes and a couple of computer programs,” she offered, making no effort to rise from her chair. “I didn’t go overboard.” The truth was that she had spent far more than originally planned, but the smiles Rose had given her were worth every penny.
“I didn’t say you did, Ronnie.” Seeing her sister was not going to join her on the couch, Susan stretched her legs out and let her stockinged feet rest on the far cushion. “Did she like them?”
“Yes, she liked them.” The executive looked down at her pencil and smiled, turning the writing implement over in her hands.
“So things are going well between you two?”
“Susan, she’s just a friend. I’ve told you that.” She stared at the pencil for a few seconds before speaking again, this time in a lower voice. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s very nice, Ronnie,” the redhead agreed. “I guess it didn’t take her long to figure out your habit for eating every pencil in sight.”
“I don’t eat them.” A slight blush colored her features. “I bite them. There’s a difference. I can’t help it. I’ve done it since I was a kid and I’ll probably continue to do it until I’m an old lady.”
“Well Sis, I’m willing to bet you won’t be biting that one.”
Ronnie smiled. “No, it’s too beautiful. Besides, I’d probably chip my teeth on it.”
“You said it has a matching pen?”
“Yeah, right here.” Ronnie reached behind her for the blazer resting across the back of her chair and fished the pen out of the inside breast pocket. “She even made sure it had blue ink instead of black.”
“You know, I never saw anyone so particular about what color they write with.” Susan rose and crossed over to the desk to get a better look. Ronnie reluctantly handed it over. “Oh, that is nice.” There was silence for a moment before Susan handed the pen back. “I was thinking maybe Jack and I could come over some night for a visit. Nothing fancy—maybe one of those winter barbecues like you used to have.”
“We haven’t done one of those in what…two or three years now?” Ronnie shook her head. “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”
“Well then, we should do it. It’ll be fun and we’ll get to meet Rose.”
“You met her at the Christmas party, Susan,” she pointed out. “As I recall, you weren’t all that thrilled about it.”
“Well…” A guilty look passed over the younger sibling’s face. “Maybe I jumped to conclusions.”
“Maybe you did,” Ronnie agreed.
“So maybe I’d like a second chance,” the redhead offered.
Silence fell between them for a minute before Ronnie reluctantly nodded. “We’re right in the middle of the January thaw so this would be the perfect time for a winter barbecue.”
“Exactly. I’ll even leave the boys with the nanny so you won’t have to worry.”
“No, you can bring them. They haven’t been over in a while.”
“I’ll bring their PlayStation over so they have something to do.” Susan reached over and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “You know they love beating you up in that wrestling game of theirs.”
“They still have that? I thought that was for that little black game system they had.”
“Oh, they still have that one somewhere. They only use the PlayStation now. I just got them a new wrestling game. I don’t know the name of it, of course.”
“Doesn’t matter. They’ll have my guy on the mat in three seconds flat just like they always do, except Ricky. He likes to throw my guy out of the ring a dozen times and put him into a coma before counting me out.” The sisters laughed, breaking the tension of the past few weeks.
“How about Saturday?”
“Sounds good. Excuse me.” Ronnie pressed the button on the buzzing phone.
“Your mother on line two. Says it’s urgent,” Laura’s voice said.
“Thank you.” She looked at Susan. “Now what?”
Rose held the phone against her chest, debating for the fourth time in an hour whether she should call Ronnie or not. The executive always called her by two and it was now going on four. When the phone did ring, it startled Rose enough that she almost dropped it. “Cartwright Residence.”
“Rose?”
“Ronnie?” A smile instantly crossed the young woman’s face. The background sound of someone being paged for radiology was enough to wipe the smile away. “Where are you?”
“I’m down at Albany Med.” The black-haired woman realized she was standing at the exact pay phone she had used the night of Rose’s accident to call Frank. She shook the thought off as she heard her friend’s voice come through the phone. “Oh sorry, lots of noise here. I’m fine, Tommy was in a car accident.”
“Oh no.” Rose’s legs throbbed with the memory. “Is he hurt bad?”
“I don’t know yet. The doctors are still with him and they haven’t told us much. Apparently he lost control going around a curve and ran into a telephone pole. Hey, I’ve got to go. The police are talking to Mother.”
“Okay, let me know what’s going on, all right?”
“I’ll call you later.”
Once their good-byes were said, Ronnie hung up the phone and stood next to her mother, impatiently listening to the officer’s words. “…excessive speed.”
“Everyone speeds in that area,” Beatrice snapped. “Perhaps if the State would take better care of the roads something like this wouldn’t have happened,” she said indignantly.
“The best roads in the world aren’t going to help when the driver is intoxicated, Ma’am.” The policeman pulled a note pad from his chest pocket and flipped to a page covered with writing.
“They found a dozen empty beer cans on the floor of the front seat. A breathalyzer taken at the accident scene showed his blood alcohol level twice the legal limit. You still want to blame the roads?”
Unable to protest and at a loss for words, Beatrice turned to her oldest daughter. The silent request was understood. It was time for the family caretaker. “Sergeant Mitchell,” Ronnie said, stepping between the officer and her mother. “What happens to Tommy now?”
“After they get done stitching him up he’ll be taken over to the County Jail and booked. If he gets there early enough, Judge Turner will set bail today, otherwise it’ll be tomorrow.” He shook his head. “I’ll tell you this, Miss. If you don’t get that fellow some help soon, you’d better plan on spending lots of time here.” He put the pad away and took a step back. “He was lucky this time. There’s something to be said for automatic seat belts and air bags. We could be looking at something far worse here than a few cuts and bruises.”
“Yes, very lucky.” From the corner of her eye, Ronnie saw Susan wrapping an arm around their mother, who looked torn between berating the officer and breaking down in tears. She understood her mother’s struggle. This was a problem the Cartwright name and money could not fix. “Oh.” She turned to the officer. “What about his car?”