“I’m asking the grandparents for their cooperation,” Sully said. “Lisa, Rose and I need some time to get to know each other. We need time to adjust. So I’m asking that you all leave within a week’s time. Feel free to call Rose anytime you’d like.” He stood. “Anything you want to add, Lisa?”
“I think that’s a perfect plan,” she said.
“I’m hoping that you two succeed,” her father said. “But we’ll be ready anytime you need us. Just call.”
Sully’s mother fussed with one of her diamond studs. “I’ll get Rose’s bedroom ready at our condo. Just in case.”
“Please, no more remarks like that,” Lisa said, standing. “You must know that we’ll do our best to raise Rose.”
Sully’s mother nodded. “You are absolutely right, Lisa. I apologize.”
“Thank you,” Lisa said, relaxing a little. “I know that you all have Rose’s best interest at heart.”
Lisa held the precious letter in her hand. Now that the sun was shining, she decided that she’d like to read it in Carol’s beautiful garden in the backyard, where the spring flowers were blooming.
Carol always had a green thumb and had spent hours digging in the dirt.
Lisa would much rather skim the clouds in a jet than garden.
“I think we’re done here,” Mr. Randolph said. “I’ll let you get back to your guests.”
Lisa made her way through the crowd of people gathered in the house. Mrs. Turner and some helpers were busy refilling the buffet and picking up the discarded paper plates and plastic forks.
As she walked by the gathering around the buffet table, Lisa pasted on a smile, thanking people for coming and for paying their respects. They were a friendly crowd, and Lisa had a pang of regret that she hadn’t made friends with any of her own neighbors in Atlanta, but it was near impossible considering her lifestyle.
She made her way out to the backyard to the garden. Sitting down on a concrete bench, she smiled at the little purple resin door in the tulip garden that said, “Carol’s Garden. Fairies enter here.”
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the mix of floral scents—daffodils, tulips and hyacinths. That was the part of living in the city that she missed most—the spring flowers that bloomed after the snow. Soon the bulbs would die out and the perennials would bloom, and Carol’s garden would be a riot of color and different scents.
Could she possibly keep up Carol’s garden? She didn’t know a weed from a potential flower.
Could she be a good mother to Rose? She didn’t know that, either.
She stared at the back of the huge Victorian, admiring the turrets and the porches that jutted out. It had more rooms than most B&Bs, and she knew that Carol and Rick had wanted more children to fill those rooms.
Looking to her right, she saw a big statue of some goddess—maybe Athena, maybe not. Lisa didn’t know her goddesses, but this one was emptying water from some kind of pitcher into a concrete pool.
Currently, Sully was roping Athena. He twirled a rope over his head, then he’d let it loose and it would fly, catching under Athena’s breasts and above the pitcher. Every now and then, he’d stop and stare off into the distance, as if he were thinking.
He roped over and over again and stared, until finally he shook his head and walked over to where she was sitting.
“Mind if I sit down?” he asked, loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He tossed the rope on the ground.
“Are you done roping?” she asked.
“I always rope when I think.”
She moved over to give him room on the bench. “I’ve been thinking, too.”
“We have some decisions to make,” he said.
“No kidding. Maybe I should learn to rope, too, so I can sort things out.”
Sully raised a perfect black eyebrow. “I’ll teach you. It’s good therapy.”
Why did he have to have eyelashes like paintbrushes? In contrast, she was pale and had to glob on mascara and eyebrow pencil to show that she even had lashes and brows.
His blue eyes met her dark green ones. “First of all, do you think we can work together? I mean, we don’t even like each other. Rose will sense that.”
He certainly believed in laying his cards on the table, didn’t he?
Taking a deep breath, he continued. “We are two adults. And we both love Rose. And there’s no way I want her raised by my parents. They’re too controlling, especially my father. He always treated Rick and me like army privates. I can’t see him with a little girl.”
“I don’t want her raised by mine, either. They’re not controlling enough,” Lisa said. “And we don’t want her in a foster home with strangers. So we’re all she’s got.”
“Poor kid.” Sully smiled, and his eyes twinkled.
Lisa could understand why the buckle bunnies fell at his feet. The cowboy could be charming when he wanted to be.
“Yeah, poor kid,” she agreed.
They shared a smile, and Lisa couldn’t believe how much they’d agreed on in one sitting, unlike their past history.
Suddenly, Lisa’s smile faded and tears cascaded down her cheeks—not for herself, but for Carol and Rick, who’d never see their little girl grow up. And for Rose, of course, who’d never know her parents.
Sully hesitantly reached for her hand, and she didn’t have the strength to move it away. She appreciated the gesture. When his hand closed over hers, she could feel his strength, his warmth. For a brief moment, she felt confident that they’d do okay.
“I really don’t want her to have to do a six-month split between her grandparents,” he said again. “It’d be too disruptive on top of everything.”
“I agree, Sully. No way.”
“So we’re going to have to make this work, Lisa.”
“I know. And I’m scared.”
“I’m not scared of a crazy, two-thousand-pound bull with horns the size of baseball bats, but I’m damn scared of raising a little girl.”
“I’ve seen Rose with you. You’re great with her. And she adores you.” All her negative feelings about him aside, it was the truth.
“Back atcha.” He shook his head. “But I’m not the kind of guy who can stay in one place for any length of time.”
“Neither am I,” Lisa said. “And we can’t live in your motor home, and my apartment in Atlanta wouldn’t work. Carol and Rick wanted Rose raised in this house.”
“I
