Say You Will(66)
“I can’t do it differently, so it’s pointless to think about it. But I can change the road I walk on going forward.” Her mother looked at her steadily. “I intend to be more”—she paused, as if searching for the right word—”present, Rosalind. In your life and your sisters’.”
“I’d like that.” She swallowed. “I’m thinking of leaving.”
Her mother stilled, but Fran exclaimed, “Leaving where?”
“Leaving here, to go home. To San Francisco.” She played with the handle of the teacup, her head lowered. “It’s time, I think.”
Silence lay thick over the kitchen.
Fran flanked her other side. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that young man, does it?”
“Yes, it does.” She firmed her lips, not going to say anything more. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell her mother her husband had another child.
Her mother touched Rosalind’s hair, tucking a piece back from her face. “I wish I had motherly wisdom to give you, but we both know what utter bollocks that’d be. But let me just say most men aren’t like your father.”
“Nick might be,” she said, feeling miserable.
“No, he isn’t.” Fran shook her head, lips pursed with conviction. “I saw the way he looked at you, lamb. He’s nothing like Reginald Summerhill.”
She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How did he look at me?”
“Like you were his sun.”
“‘No sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved.’“At their questioning looks, her mother smiled sadly. “Rosalind said it in As You Like It.”
“You were the one who told me that life didn’t turn out like Shakespearean comedies.” She pushed back from the chair.
“That’s not the moral of your story, Rosalind.” Her mother took her hand. “And your ending hasn’t been written yet.”
“Think about it, lamb,” Fran added, squeezing her other hand.
“I can’t believe you two are tag teaming me.” Rosalind shook her head, trying to look stern, but their caring thawed some of the iciness that had settled in her chest. She kissed the back of Fran’s hand, and then her mother’s, before letting go.
She was halfway out of the kitchen when she stopped. Then she went back and took two shortbread cookies, smiling at the women, before going to her room to think things through.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“I have an idea for how to win her back,” Luca declared, smacking the bar with his hand.
Nick lifted his pint to take a sip.
His manager, Jon, nudged him. “Listen to Fiorelli. Italians know women.”
“Yes, but I will only tell him if he agrees to race in Monte Carlo.”
“Fair enough.” Jon nudged him again. “Say you’re going to race, Nick.”
“I’m giving up racing.”
“If this crazy way is how you’ve been speaking to her, no wonder she left you.” Luca pointed a finger at him. “Women want a real man who drives fast and hard, not one who sits in an empty house.”
“My house is empty because I’ve been too busy driving fast. Rosalind left me because I was dishonest.”
“Forget women.” Jon lifted a finger to Niamh, silently asking for another beer. “They take fifty percent. Not even my take is that big.”
He faced his manager. “I want to talk to you about that.”
“I knew you were going to go there.” Jon winced, tossing another bill on the bar top as Niamh set a glass in front of him. “Fine, I’ll cut my percentage. What do you want? Seven percent? Five percent? I’ll throw my firstborn in, too. The kid’s giving me ulcers.”
“I want to go into business with you.” Saying it made some of the weight that had been on his shoulders ease. “I’m going to manage endorsements.”
“What? You’re joking.” Jon turned and studied him. “You aren’t joking. That’s your I’m-taking-no-prisoners look.”
“I’m being very serious. You’re an excellent manager, Jon, but we both know that I’m better negotiating the endorsements than you are.”
“I need to think about this.”
“Think about it this way”—Nick picked up his beer and drank some, trying to project the detachment he wasn’t feeling—”I can go into business with you, or start a rival shop.”
“After all these years? You wound me, Long.” Jon put a hand over his heart. “You’re leaving me no choice, you know. I wouldn’t want you to be guilt-ridden over this.”