Page 79 of Saving Graces
But Lane wasn’t her client anymore and outside of simple professional supervision once or twice a year, counseling Lane was no longer her role. There was a boundary now that Lane was her best friend’s much loved employee, de facto family member, and Rosalie’s star volunteer. She loved Lane, but she knew that getting to be in their life at all meant sticking to those boundaries.
The tiniest flicker inside Rosalie also thought about handing over even those occasional counseling duties to Shelby just in case, in future she and Kinsey… Rosalie shook herself. There was no just in case. There’d never be one of those awkward double dates between Rosalie, Kinsey, Cassidy, and Lane that she’d freaked out over in her imagination. Cassidy had fled and Kinsey with her.
So instead, Rosalie hugged Lane the first day they came downstairs, which they tolerated. Barely. Lane was so clearly withdrawing back into themselves, into that place where they didn’t think they deserved anyone’s care or love, and it broke Rosalie’s heart. She sought out Brynn.
“I can’t tell you anything,” Rosalie said, wringing her hands and thinking about all Lane had suffered. “But just… please make sure Lane knows how loved and wanted they are? Whether they’re with Cassidy or not? And keep checking in with them, like a lot?”
Brynn gave her arm a warm squeeze. “I’m on it,” she said. “Don’t worry, mama bear.”
Rosalie smiled. She never regretted not having babies of her own; instead she’d had dozens of teenagers. They were her favorites anyway.
Back in Nashville Rosalie couldn’t help checking in. Brynn kept her updated. Savannah was practically suffocating Lane with home-baked cookies, Brynn wouldn’t let them spend all their downtime alone in their suite, dragging them out to play video games and very, very occasionally getting them to talk. Cassidy was fine, Savannah said, off with Kinsey on an extended national tour with Coral’s band.
So, there was that temptation gone. Rosalie had considered, once or twice, how in the world she would ever be able to get in touch with Kinsey, if she’d ever figured out what to say to her. Could she cautiously finagle information out of Cassidy that would allow her to casually bump into her, perhaps where she worked, or at one of their shows?
Even that option was gone. Kinsey was off traveling around the entire country, and she’d been more than clear that Rosalie’s confused combination of clingy and noncommittal was wearing out its welcome. She’d been granted one more chance with Kinsey and she’d tripped over her own feet.
The weeks began to drag by and Rosalie threw herself into work, the way she always did. When she couldn’t hide at work any longer she returned home, Lemonade greeting her noisily and Rosalie put on a record to block out the remaining silence. Still, even as she finally slipped into her cold bed, no amount of music or reading or cooking or thinking seemed like it could quite fill the nothingness that found her there.
Savannah called every night. Rosalie knew she was being monitored and carefully loved exactly the same way Lane was, but she secretly didn’t mind it.
One night, she propped her phone up on the counter to see Savannah’s face as she cooked dinner, her best friend’s voice the only thing that seemed to fill up the emptiness.
“Are you ever going to talk to someone?” Savannah asked out of the blue as Rosalie poured a glass of wine for one.
“I’m sorry?” Rosalie took a sip and turned away to put the bottle back in the fridge. Savannah was silent until her face reappeared in the screen.
“About all of it,” she continued. “Rachel. Your parents. Your fucking mother. Your relationship issues.”
“I don’t have ‘relationship issues,’” Rosalie air quoted. “This is just what I want for my life. Peace and quiet with the occasional hot sex.”
Savannah cocked her head.
“And Kinsey didn’t make you want more?”
Rosalie’s hand tightened on the stem of her wine glass. “Oh stop.”
“She did though.”
“Fine!” Rosalie huffed. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. But we both know what ‘more’ ends up being. Too much, too crowded, too close. It would just be the same as every other time. Why even go there?”
“Sometimes,” Savannah said quietly, “I think it’s my fault.”
Rosalie stilled. “What?”
“I mean think about it. You’d just lost your sister. Then we got together for one night. Your first time. My first time. And then I left you too.”
“Savannah,” Rosalie said, waiting until her best friend met her gaze through the screens. Her best friend looked immensely sad. “That was more than twenty years ago.”
“I know,” Savannah said. “And since then, you’ve run away from everyone else you’ve ever had sex with. Before they can leave you first.”
“I…” Rosalie found herself lost for words, coherent thoughts coming slow. “That’s not true. Right after you I had my first ever girlfriend, before high school had even finished. There was no running.”
“Yeah, well I blame her too. She cheated on you.”
“Ugh,” Rosalie said. “I love you, but you don’t get to take credit for my lifelong dysfunction.”
“So you admit it,” Savannah pounced.
