“I’ll pay half the rent, of course. I can’t believe how low it is compared to Chicago apartments.”
“Isn’t it great?” Rosemary finished her drink and set the glass aside. “So tell me, how are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Honestly? No pain, no numbness, no tingling? Don’t lie to me now. I’m your therapist, remember.”
“I remember. I truly feel great. No symptoms at all. I think I’m solidly in remission.”
“Good.” Rosemary nodded. “If you have any problems—I mean any—let me know. Therapy works best if we catch the problem early. You know how sneaky MS is. One day you notice a little blurry vision, next day your big toe goes numb, and the third day you try to stand and you can’t feel anything from the knees down.”
Pam stared into the cloudy remains of her drink. “I know. Believe me, I don’t want that happening. I’ll tell you at the first sign.”
“This job at the school, do you think you’ll have a lot of stress with it? Stress can aggravate your condition, you know.”
Pam shrugged. “No more than anyone else starting in a new position in a new town.” She looked up, remembering the man who’d tackled her, the warm way he’d looked at her, then the way his eyes had frosted over when he learned who she was. “What do you know about Patrick Kelsey?”
Rosemary swung both legs over the fat arm of the easy chair, scrunching down comfortably. “His family goes way back. He’s a descendant of one of the first families. His parents own and operate Kelsey Boardinghouse on Gunther Street not far from here. Plus his father works at the Ingalls plant and his mother is receptionist for Dr. Phelps. Anna’s real personable. I want you to meet George Phelps, too. He’s a good man in case you need a doctor.”
This wasn’t what Pam wanted to hear. “Why would Patrick have turned so moody back there in the square, when before he heard my name, he was smiling?”
“Maybe he wanted the job you got. He teaches gym and coaches varsity basketball. He’s some kind of hero around here, dating back to his high school football days.”
“Sounds like the people of Tyler take high school sports seriously—and have long memories.”
“You got that right. Fierce loyalty around here. They give newcomers a hearty welcome, then sit back and wait for them to prove themselves. They accepted me, so don’t worry.”
“But you’ve been here three years. It seems I was here three minutes and managed to offend one of their favorite sons.”
“Patrick will come around. He’s really a great guy, always helping people, very family oriented. I’ve often wondered why he’s never married.” Rosemary eyed Pam as she slipped out of her running shoes. “Maybe he’s been waiting for the right woman to come along.”
Pam shook her head. “Don’t look at me. Besides, he seems a bit touchy. If he’s lived here all his life, it can’t be my fault I got the job and he didn’t. Or is it having a woman coach he’s against, possibly?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about it. Don’t add to your own stress level.”
“Good idea.” Pam stretched and yawned. “I should unpack, go get some groceries and turn in early tonight. I want to look around tomorrow, and Monday morning I meet with the principal.”
“Oh, she’s nice. Everyone likes Miss Mackie. And she’ll understand about your limitations with MS.”
Pam leaned forward, her eyes serious. “I don’t plan to tell Miss Mackie or anyone else that I have multiple sclerosis. And I don’t want you to say anything, either.”
Slowly, Rosemary raised a questioning brow. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“I don’t know. I do know I need to prove myself, and I can’t do that if everyone’s waiting for me to fall over from fatigue or show up one day in a wheelchair.”
“But if they know, they can—”
“No. Please, Rosemary.” She had to make her friend see. “This is my life and my decision. When we first started working out together at the rehab center, I was going through the aftermath of depression, really feeling sorry for myself. Well, I’ve spent all the time doing that that I plan to. You’re the one who challenged me to learn to live with MS, and I’m honestly trying to. I realize that remissions are temporary, but I feel good and I don’t want constant reminders that I could slip back again any day.”
“Remission periods can last for months, even years.”
“I’m hopeful that’s the case with me. But I want no quarter given because I’ve got a problem here. I want to earn people’s respect, not their pity. Listen as my friend, Rosemary, not my therapist, and try to understand.”
Gracefully Rosemary untangled herself from the chair and walked over to Pam, hugging her as she sat down on the couch. “I do understand. I just don’t want to see you hurt. Over the past two years, I’ve grown to care about you a lot.”
Pam blinked back a quick rush of emotion. “Me, too. I just have to do this my way, okay?”
“Sure.” Rosemary stood. “Now, let me get your bag, so you can unpack while I start dinner. You can shop tomorrow. Tonight I’m cooking my specialty. Chicken chow mein.”
“Sounds great.” Pam searched for her keys. “I hope you’ll make enough so Samson can have dinner, too. He loves Chinese.”
“Not dog food?”
Pam grinned at her friend’s surprised look. “He never touches the stuff. And he likes a wedge of lemon in his water dish.”
“Of course he does.” Rosemary smiled at her friend. “I’m really glad you’re here.” Glancing down, she pointed. “Grass stains. I hope they come out of your slacks.”
Pam considered the green stain on her pantleg. “Think I could get Patrick Kelsey to clean them for me?”
“You really should get acquainted with him. He knows the boys at Tyler High better than anyone else. They trust him.”
Pam tossed her keys in the air and caught them in her fist. “Then I guess it’ll be my job to get them to trust me. Why haven’t you gotten to know him better, since you think he’s so swell?”
Rosemary shook her head. “I’ve been divorced five years and I intend to stay that way. Once burned is twice shy.” She sobered, studying Pam’s face. “Do you ever hear from Bob?”
“No, never. It’s best this way, really. When something’s over, it should stay over.”
“Amen,” Rosemary agreed.
“YOU LOOK even younger than your picture,” Josephine
