Page 27 of Saving Graces
“Kids are dying,” she snapped into the phone. “Go fuck yourself you fascist cunt.”
“Nice to know you haven’t lost any of your finesse.”
Rosalie’s head snapped up, and there in the doorway, blonde, beautiful, and looking like a billion bucks, stood Savannah Grace. “I heard,” she said simply, her eyes meeting Rosalie’s. Rosalie covered her face and cried. Savannah tugged her up out of her chair, into her arms and held her.
An hour later the two of them sat on Rosalie’s sofa, curled up like bookends. She felt Savannah’s eyes on her face. After security had escorted them to Rosalie’s car, Savannah had straight up pretended she still knew how to drive after too many years of being chauffeured from place to place. Rosalie was grateful to have made it home alive. She looked back at her friend.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that I’m maybe having a mid-life crisis.”
Savannah snorted.
“Only if you’re only planning to live until-”she paused and did a mental calculation.“Oh shit, maybe you are,” she breathed, her eyes going wide. Rosalie laughed. “What are your symptoms?” Savannah asked her, topping up her glass of wine before curling back up on the couch. “Have you started purchasing luxury vehicles?”
“No, but I did start rock climbing,” she said. “And I considered starting a language class or maybe doing pottery.”
“Pottery…” Savannah whispered, looking truly disturbed. “Ros,” she said, her face serious, “it’s been forever. I think you probably need to go and get laid.”
“Ugh.” Rosalie tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She scrunched back down on the sofa as if she could hide from her own actions. “That’s maybe what kicked all this off,” she said with a slight wince. “I had some super hot sex with someone I shouldn’t have.”
“Oh my god, finally! This is why we’re still friends,” Savannah said, sitting up straight, her eyes bright. “Tell me everything. In detail.”
Rosalie opened her mouth. Then she closed it again.“I don’t want to. I feel like if I talk about it, it’ll ruin the…magic.”
“You don’t want to tell me because you don’t want me to ruin your ability to fantasize about it,” Savannah accused, looking straight up intrigued.
“It was really hot,” Rosalie admitted, cheeks burning at the memory.
“Someone you shouldn’t, huh?” Savannah tapped her chin thoughtfully with one perfectly manicured finger. “Well, that’s going to drive me nuts.”
“I’m not telling you,” Rosalie said. “But it all seems to have left me spiraling a little, and I don’t really know why.”
Savannah raised her eyebrows.
“I mean, sure. That, and the burnout,” she said.
Rosalie frowned. “Have you been talking to Shelby?”
“No,” she said, cocking her head, “I just have eyes, Ros. And ears. I know the state of things. But if Shelby is saying the same thing then I’m really worried.”
“I’m okay, honestly,” Rosalie said and attempted a shrug. “It’s rough on everyone. And today… god,” she fought back tears again. “She was fifteen, you know?”
“A baby.” Savannah’s voice cracked. “Her poor parents.”
“Fuck her parents,” Rosalie snapped. “They should have done better by her.”
Savannah took a sharp breath. Her slow exhale sounded like a warning.
“Honey,” she said, “I think you need to take a break.”
“What? No. Absolutely not. This is not the time to take leave. Everyone is in crisis.”
“The crisis is ongoing,” Savannah pointed out. “It’s not going anywhere any time soon. But you are.”
“The hell I am.”
They squared off across the couch, Rosalie’s chin raised and Savannah’s eyes reflecting steel. Then Savannah sighed.
“I don’t pull this very often, but technically, if it comes down to it, I’m your boss. You’re taking a vacation. I’m not giving you the option because I know you won’t take it.”
