204 Rosewood Lane. Debbie Macomber
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“Do you want breakfast?” she repeated.
He sat up, suddenly wide-awake. “Yeah,” he said with enthusiasm.
This was more like it.
“The chocolate ones are my favorite.”
“Chocolate what?”
“Pop-Tarts.”
“I fried you bacon and eggs.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose as if she’d suggested he dine on slugs. “No, thanks.” He flopped back on his pillow and reached for the comforter on the floor.
All right, so much for that. Venturing toward the master bedroom, she found Zach just as he was coming out of the walk-in closet, dressed in his suit and tie.
“I cooked breakfast,” she said, a bit stiffly.
He nodded as though he approved.
“Are you ready to eat?”
“I can’t now,” he said, looking down at his watch. “I’ve got an early-morning appointment.”
That was just great, dammit! No one appreciated her efforts or the fact that she was functioning on less than five hours’ sleep. Whirling around, Rosie returned to the kitchen, dumped the congealed bacon and egg in the garbage and forcefully opened the dishwasher. She shoved in the plates.
Zach entered the kitchen. “I’m leaving now.”
“Have a good day,” she muttered under her breath.
“You, too.”
Her husband stopped in front of the door leading to the garage. “Would you like to meet for lunch this afternoon?”
So Zach did realize what she was doing. Now he was making an overture, too. “I think that’s a lovely idea.” She offered him a grateful smile and he smiled back.
“Eleven-thirty?”
Rosie nodded and he walked over to her and kissed her cheek.
“Dad,” Allison called, racing into the kitchen. “Can I get a ride with you?”
“Only if you hurry.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“Meet you at the car.”
Allison dashed toward her bedroom and returned two seconds later with her sweater, grabbing her backpack from the table as she went.
“Do you have your lunch money?” Rosie asked.
“Duh? Of course I do.” Allison kissed her cheek in the same fashion Zach had and was out the door.
No sooner had they left than Eddie appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Is my Pop-Tart up yet?”
“Almost,” she muttered and searched the cupboards until she located a box of her son’s favorite breakfast food.
An hour later, Eddie left to catch the school bus and Rosie straightened up the kitchen, turning on the dishwasher. Still in her ratty, ten-year-old housecoat, she went to the bedroom and pulled open the dresser drawer to take out fresh underwear.
It wasn’t until she was in the shower that she remembered she had to be at the school by noon as a lunch volunteer for Eddie’s class. She groaned and raised her face to the water. She’d be away tonight, too. As it was, Zach didn’t approve of her chairing this PTA committee. She’d taken the position a year earlier and had promised to serve until the end of term and no longer. But last June not a single parent had stepped forward to volunteer. Rosie had no choice but to continue as chair.
She dressed and was about to call Zach’s office when the phone rang. A half hour later, she was rushing out the door, about to ward off an emergency concerning the new choir robes at church. Somehow their order had gotten switched with that of another church, somewhere in Florida. It was imperative that the correct robes show up before the end of the month. At the church, she painstakingly repackaged the robes, made half a dozen phone calls and took the boxes to the post office to return to the company. Not until eleven-thirty did she realize she still hadn’t called Zach. Taking out her cell phone, she punched in the number to her husband’s office.
“Smith, Cox and Jefferson,” came the pleasant—and unfamiliar—female voice.
Rose eased to a stop at a red light. “This is Rosie Cox. Could I speak to my husband, please?”
“Hello, Mrs. Cox, this is Janice Lamond. I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?”
“No, we haven’t,” she said. The light changed to green and she sped forward.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Cox left the office. I understand he was meeting you?”
They hadn’t agreed to meet anywhere, at least not that she remembered. Where the hell would Zach go? Think, think, she ordered herself.
“Did he bring his cell phone?”
“I’m sorry, he didn’t. Mr. Cox said he didn’t want to take any calls.”
Rosie groaned. “Did he tell you where he was headed?”
The woman hesitated. “I believe he mentioned D.D.’s on the Cove.”
Of course. It was her favorite and Zach always took her there for her birthday.
“Are you going to be late?” Janice asked. “I could phone the restaurant and let him know, if you’d like.”
“I can’t make lunch at all,” Rosie muttered, truly regretful. Zach would never forgive her. Especially when he learned she had to cancel because she was volunteering yet again.
“Is there anything I can do?” Zach had never mentioned how helpful this new employee was. Rosie liked her already. She pulled into the school parking lot and cut the engine.
“You wouldn’t mind phoning him for me?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Would you like me to tell him where you can be reached?”
“No,” she said quickly, not eager to have Zach call her in the midst of a volunteer activity. “Tell him I’ll explain everything once I’m home.”
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Janice said.
Rosie appreciated that the firm’s new assistant was so friendly and accommodating.
If Zach was upset with her for skipping out on lunch, he didn’t give any sign of it when he walked into the house that evening. Rosie was thawing hamburger in the microwave for spaghetti, Eddie’s favorite dinner, when her husband came in. As usual, she