The Girls on Rose Hill (5 page)

A tall sandy-haired man, early forties I'd say, shirtless and clad only in faded khaki shorts, jumped from the boat with a thick rough rope in his hand. I swallowed the remainder of my wine as he pulled the boat closer to the dock. The boat secured, he reached in and lifted out a cooler. He held the cooler in his right hand and ran his left though his wild hair. He had the hard physique of a man who clearly hadn't spend his life behind a desk. His boat was tied to our neighbor's dock so he must be one of the Conroy boys. Hard to believe this Adonis with once one of the scrappy little boys who'd hit baseballs twice through my grandmother's front window.

"Catch anything?"

He looked over and smiled. "A few fluke. Ellen, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Billy Conroy. " He climbed the low fence that separated the two properties and walked towards me.

"That can't be. The Billy Conroy I know had long hair and a motorcycle."

"Well," he said, "I still have the motorcycle."

"Billy, when was the last time I saw you?"

He smiled. "I think I had flunked out of college, and you were off to law school."

"It can't have been that long. Anyway, things have been so crazy I didn't have a chance to thank you. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't found my mother when you did."

"How is she?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. They moved her to St. Francis Hospice last week."

Billy's bright blue eyes clouded over. "My father was at St. Francis for his last two months. It's a good place. Clean, and the staff is kind."

We were both silent for a moment and then I asked with forced cheer, "How did you manage to escape from work and go fishing?"

"Helps when you're the boss."

"I didn't realize that you owned Gold Coast Construction," I said, somehow remembering the name on the truck that was often parked in Barbara Conway's driveway.

He smiled again. "I didn't remain a screw up my whole life, Miss Murphy."

"I didn't mean it like that."

He laughed. "Yes, you did, but I'll forgive you if you pour me a glass of that wine."

"Of course, sit down and I'll get you a glass." Billy took the chair next to mine. In Lisa's well stocked kitchen, I loaded a tray with the bottle of pino, a glass for Billy, a small bowl of salsa and large bowl of nachos.

"I brought a few snacks." I set the tray down on a side table.

"Perfect."

After I filled the glasses, I sank into my chair. "When did you become such a sailor? Didn't you used to avoid your dad's sailboat like the plague?"

He laughed. "Probably because he wouldn't let me smoke pot on it. No, the boat was my dad's and Jimmy's thing. And Tom's when he wasn't busy memorizing the periodic table."

"It must be tough being the black sheep. What have your brothers been up to anyway?"

"Jimmy's a hot shot lawyer in the city and Tom's an oncologist out in California. They're both married, Jimmy has three kids and Tom has four."

"Impressive. Barbara must be proud."

"Yeah, although who does she call when she needs a bulb changed or the driveway shoveled? Yours truly." Billy smiled, but was unable to hide the sting underneath.

"You have your own business, Billy. She must be proud of you too."

"Yeah, well, you'd have to ask her."

"So you never answered my question. When did you start sailing?"

"I'd say about fifteen years ago. My father was so happy that I was finally interested, and once Jimmy wasn't around to tell me what I was doing wrong, I enjoyed it. Almost up until the end, my father loved going out with me and Kyle, so I was glad that I had taken it up."

"Kyle?"

"My son. He's fourteen."

"I didn't know you were married." Billy, with his ripped muscles and wild hair, didn't give off a married vibe.

"Divorced. Melanie lives with her new husband in Cold Spring Harbor. He's a dentist. Kyle splits his time between there and my house in Northport."

"A dentist?" I could not imagine leaving a hunk like Billy to marry some nerdy dentist.

As if reading my thoughts, Billy said, "I know, but the truth is I wasn't the best husband. I worked construction sporadically. Spent a lot of my time on my bike and with my friends. Probably too much time at Gunther's bar. Melanie liked to pretend she was a bad girl, but once we had Kyle that changed. She lost patience with me, I guess. But now we're friends. Melanie leaving me was probably the best thing that could've happened. After that, I settled down, borrowed some money from my dad, and started my company."

"Well, it sounds like everything worked out."

"It has, I guess. What about you. You still married?"

"Yes. My husband's a partner at a law firm in D.C. He talks about retirement, but I'll believe it when I see it. They'll have to pry the blackberry from his cold dead hands."

"Oh, that's right. My mom told me that you married an old dude."

I laughed. "If Brendan could hear you calling him an old dude, he would die. He thinks he's sixty going on twenty-six."

"He's sixty? But wait, you're only a year or two older than me, right?"

"That's right. I'm forty-three. But believe me, his age is the least of our problems."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

God, I didn't mean to say that. I sputtered, "I mean with my mother and all."

"Of course. How is she, really?" Billy placed his strong warm hand on mine. I shivered slightly; it had been an eternity since a man had touched me.

"We're getting near the end now."

We were both silent then, his hand remained on mine while we looked out onto the water. I felt the band of tension lodged across my shoulder loosen.

Billy took his hand off mine. "Listen, Ellen, I have all this fish and no one to share it with me. Why don't you let me cook you dinner?"

"I would love that, Billy." I looked at my watch. "But, I should've been at St. Francis an hour ago. I promised to relieve my uncle Danny by five, and its almost six now. Can I take a rain check?"

"Of course, any time."

I awkwardly stood up and Billy grabbed the tray and took it into the boathouse. Before I could stop him, he had rinsed out the glasses and put the tray away. I couldn't remember the last time Brendan put his coffee cup in the dishwasher.

We walked out of the boathouse in silence, and I locked the door and lifted the planter to return the key. I then turned to him. "Thanks for sitting with me. It really helped me take my mind off things."

Without warning, Billy took me into his arms and gave me a hug. He smelled of saltwater. My pulse quickened as his strong arms surrounded me. "Ellen, I know this is a terrible time," he said into my ear. He then released me. "It's easy to get caught up caring for the sick person. You have to remember to take care of yourself as well."

I willed my cheeks not to blush, to no avail. Jesus, I thought, I'm a grown woman, not a horny teenager. I forced myself to adopt a friendly, but detached tone. "I will. Thanks again. I'll see you around."

Billy gave me a little wave as he headed back to the boat.

Chapter 5

Rose

I sat up, looked around the unfamiliar room and missed, for not the first time, the heavy rhythmic breathing of my cousin Molly. I wriggled out of the tight sheets and swung my feet over the side of the high narrow bed. The floor was cold and I shivered in my thin nightdress. I crept to the door and opened it, slowly, and prayed it wouldn't creak. The hallway was dark except for a faint line of light underneath my mother's door. All was quiet except for the clang of a distant buoy.

I turned to go back to bed when a low thumping sound stopped me. I walked into the hallway and placed my hand on the door to my mother's room. The door vibrated as if something was being thrown against it. I turned the brass doorknob and pushed against the door with all my might.

"Go back to bed!" my mother shouted. A stream of blood dripped from her forehead.

"Mama! Mama what's wrong?"

Her voice ragged with tears, she said, "Rosie, love, go to bed."

"No, Mama."

Peter came up behind her, threw open the door and pushed Mama to the floor. In the light I could see her left eye was swollen and almost completely shut. I stepped back and fell against the hallway table. A porcelain vase crashed to the floor. "Sorry, Peter," I whimpered. "I'm sorry."

Peter lifted me like a rag doll and threw me onto my bed. My head slammed against the wooden headboard. Then darkness.

* * *

Ellen

I looked in the rearview mirror. My roots were over an inch long. Back home, every four weeks I religiously visited the same Georgetown salon frequented by the First Lady. I'd forgotten that under my carefully maintained artifice of "number 5, ash blonde" lay the same steel grey strands that covered my mother's head. How could I've thought that hot Billy Conroy was flirting with me? No man would look at me twice in this state. "Ellen, grab hold of yourself," I muttered. It's not like I'd ever given Billy or his scrawny overachieving brothers the time of day in high school.

I walked through the now familiar halls of St. Francis and tried to shake off all thoughts of Billy and my seemingly awakened libido. Armed with a large thermos of coffee and a stack of magazines, I braced myself for the evening shift. The door to my mother's room was ajar. She was asleep while my uncle Danny read in the corner.

"Sorry I'm late, Danny," I whispered.

Danny looked up, his wire rim glasses perched on his large nose. "No problem. You okay?"

I ran my fingers through my lank two-toned hair. "Yeah, just a little tired."

"I can stay tonight if you want to go home and get some rest." Danny's long thin face was pale, as though it was January and not July. I wasn't the only one suffering through the ordeal of Rose's illness.

"No, I'll be fine. I'm a bit drained, that's all."

"You've been great, Ellen. I know it wasn't easy for you to drop everything and come up here, what with your big job and all. But we appreciate it. Me, Paul, Molly."

I smiled. "Maybe not Molly."

"No, even Molly. She knows how much your being here means to your mother."

"To tell you the truth, sometimes I feel like I do more harm than good. Either Mom's so out of it from the drugs that she doesn't know I'm here or when she is awake, I snap at her and say the wrong thing."

Danny shook his head. "No, I'm sure that's not true."

"It is, Danny. We haven't been close for years. Hell, I don't think we were ever close. And now, well, now it's too late to do much about it."

"Ellen, you were her life. You have to know that."

"I don't think I know anything anymore."

"You have to stop beating yourself up," Danny said, his homely face filled with concern. "It won't help Rose and it won't help you."

"You're right. I know you're right." I leaned against a table and knocked over a vase. The vase fell and shattered.

"I'm such an idiot." I crouched down to pick up pieces of the cheap glass.

"It's fine, it's fine. There are too many damn flowers in here anyway. I'll get the paper towels." Danny walked to the bathroom.

"Mama!" Rose shouted from the bed.

My mother sat up, her eyes wide with fear.

"Mom? What is it?"

"Mama, Mama open the door!" Rose said, her voice high and trembling.

"It's me, Mom. It's Ellen. You're okay, everything's okay."

Danny walked over from the bathroom and grabbed Rose's hand. "Rose? Rose, are you all right?"

Rose stared at Danny and howled like a wounded animal. Danny and I looked at each other, frozen. Neither of us knew what to do.

My mother said in a small, pitiful voice, "Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break it. I'm sorry Peter, don't hurt me."

I looked at kind, sweet Danny who unfortunately bore an uncanny resemblance to his father. "Danny, go get the nurse."

Rose took my hand and repeated, in a frantic shriek, "Mama, Mama, Mama."

Almost instantly I channeled my grandmother, and said, "Rosie, love, you're all right. Hush pet, everything's fine." I rubbed her back, as I would a small child. "Ah, Rosie, you're my girl, you're my good girl." My mother smiled at me, uncertainly. "That's right, Rosie, lie back."

I slowly stroked my mother's hair, and murmured what I could remember of Kitty's comforting phrases. The nurse inserted a needle in her arm while Danny looked on. After a few moments, Rose's face went slack.

"She should sleep through the night now," the stout nurse said.

"She was so confused. What caused that? Was it her medication?" I asked.

"They get like that near the end." The nurse shrugged, although her broad face was sympathetic.

I turned to Danny. "Have you seen her like that before? I know she's been in pain and out of it sometimes, but never like this."

"I guess it's just what the nurse said. She's near the end."

"But they said she had another few weeks," my voice rose an octave.

"They said she could have another few weeks, Ellen," Danny said.

I sank onto the chair next to her bed. "It's too soon. I'm not ready."