“Is there something good on TV tonight or do you want me to stop and pick up a movie?”
“There’s not much on except the news magazines.”
“We always watch those. How about a movie tonight?”
“Sure, sounds good. Hey, my speed is up to fifty words a minute now.”
“Oh yeah? Great.” A tiny thought formed in the back of her mind. “Have you been studying those business letters and forms?”
“Of course. I even retyped some old letters you had lying on the desk just to get the practice.”
“Good.” Ronnie smiled broadly at the extra effort on Rose’s part. “Hey, Laura told me today that she’s pregnant.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great.”
“Great for her, lousy for me. Now I have to find another secretary. I hate looking for a secretary. I’m worse than Murphy Brown when it comes to that.”
“Oh please,” Rose laughed. “I’ve been watching that in the mornings. She had one that talked to the devil.”
“I had two that believed Satan was going to swoop down and take over any minute. Needless to say they didn’t last long. I have terrible luck with them. Laura’s the best I’ve had and it took me six months of wading though the flotsam of the secretarial world to get her.” A buzz on the phone brought Ronnie’s attention to the flashing light of line two. “Hon, I’ve got to go. Tell Maria not to bother with dinner and I’ll be home in a little while.”
“Okay, Ronnie, I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Ronnie gazed at her beloved mechanical pencil for a few seconds before reluctantly pressing the button on the phone. “This is Veronica Cartwright.”
“Prepare to meet the Crusher, arg arg arg,” Susan’s oldest son Ricky said. “He’s gonna pulverize you.”
“Worse than the Undertaker?” Rose queried.
“Oh, he’s nothing compared to Crusher.” He caught his aunt walking past. “Hey, Aunt Ronnie, come see me pulverize Rose.”
“Can’t you find something nicer to play? Whatever happened to Pac-Man?” she said as she entered the living room.
“Pac-Man?” The twelve year old laughed and pressed several buttons in rapid succession, throwing Rose’s man out of the ring and onto the mat. “I’ve seen that game in the arcades. Boring. You’ve got to get with the times, Aunt Ronnie. It’s Virtual Fighter and Super Wrestlemania now.” He lowered his voice so only Rose could hear him. “Next thing you know she’ll bring out those old records she has from the eighties.”
“Hey, I like the music from the eighties,” she protested.
“That’s ‘cause you’re old like Aunt Ronnie and Mom.”
“Old? I hate to tell you, Ricky, but twenty-six is not old.”
“Twenty-six? Oh man, that’s way old. Come on, get your man back into the ring before he gets counted out.”
“Why? Every time I get back in you throw him out again.”
“That’s the point,” the boy replied, moving his character into position. Rose looked at Ronnie and rolled her eyes, causing the older woman to laugh before leaving the room.
Ronnie found Susan out on the sun porch, monitoring the steaks and burgers cooking on the grill. The late January thaw had the temperature in the lower fifties, practically balmy for Albany. Susan’s other sons, Timmy and John, were enjoying the bright sunshine, riding bikes they had found in the garage. “Ricky sure enjoys those video games, doesn’t he?” the oldest Cartwright said as she walked over and sniffed the cooking meat.
“I can’t get him away from them,” Susan replied. “Do you think we should start frying up the mushrooms yet?”
“No, not for another ten minutes or so.” They were interrupted by six year old John riding up on the purple bike, tears streaming out of his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Honey? Did you fall?” Susan went into mother mode, lifting her son’s arms to look for any scrapes. He shook his head, still blubbering.
“Timmy won’t stop teasing me ‘cause I’m riding a girl’s bike,” he wailed, pointing at the flowered basket on the front.
“I’ll take care of this,” Ronnie said, holding her hand out to take the smaller one in her own.
“Come on, John. There’s some tools in the garage. We’ll take that basket off. Will that be better?” She received a shaky nod in reply. With her nephew in tow, Ronnie headed for the garage.
Satisfied that the meat would cook without supervision, Susan stepped inside to warm up for a little while and to check on her oldest son. She found him still playing the wrestling game with Rose, who only made token efforts to fight back as her character was beaten time and again.
“Having fun?”
“Oh yeah, Mom. Rose is more of a challenge than Aunt Ronnie,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“Ricky, why don’t you go play pool with your father? I want to talk to Rose for a few minutes.”
“But I’m having fun,” he whined.
“Richard…” she said in that age old ‘mother’ tone. The game controller landed on the floor and a pouting boy headed for the game room. Rose set her controller on the couch next to her, nervousness setting in as it had when Susan ran into her at the Christmas party.
“Where’s Ronnie?” she asked.
“Out helping John with the bicycle,” the redhead said as she sat down on the cushion previously occupied by her son. “So your legs are getting better?”
“Doctor Barnes says my right leg is healing beautifully.” She looked down at the bright white of her new casts, the left leg still encased up to the hip but the other one stopping just below the knee.
“What about the left one?”
Rose sighed, remembering the X-ray of her ankle that resembled a road map. “That one will take longer. I broke it pretty good.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” There was an awkward silence before Susan spoke again. “That pen and pencil set you gave Ronnie is very nice.”
“Thank you,” the blonde replied. “She was complaining she could never find a pen when she needed one and I thought she’d like it.”
“She loves it. I never see her use anything else now, and I never thought I’d see her stop biting her pencils.” Susan looked at the graphics flashing on the television, begging them to press the start button and enter another round of video wrestling. “You know I love my sister very much. I don’t like to see her hurt.”
“She’s a very special person,” Rose agreed, uncertain where the conversation was going.
“I hope you understand just how much she’s putting on the line having you here.” Susan’s voice held no reproach, just concern for her sister. She turned sideways on the couch, looking carefully at the young woman across from her. “She was hurt very badly by Chris. I just hope that doesn’t happen again.”
“What did he do?” Rose asked. Susan’s eyebrow raised. Remembering her sister’s repeated denials of a relationship, she now questioned her previous assumptions.
“Um…oh…well, I think maybe you should ask Ronnie about that. I need to check on the steaks. Excuse me.” She stood up quickly and left, leaving a confused Rose to watch her retreating form.