Honey Be Mine, page 25
“My hero,” Kerrielynn said softly. “Is there anything else we can help with?”
Rosemary shook her head. “I’ve got to do a few things in the office before I head home. You two have plans?” She led them back up the stairs to the first floor.
Leif shrugged. “Hang out.”
“Well, have fun.” Rosemary waved and headed toward Everett’s office. After every class, Lorna told her to make a copy of the sign-in sheet, keep the original in her binder, and leave the copy for Everett’s secretary to input for tracking purposes. Since she didn’t have another class until next week, it made sense to do it before she went home tonight.
She opened the office door and came to a stop.
“Libby.” Rosemary hadn’t expected anyone to be here this late.
“Rosemary.” She didn’t look up from her monitor. “What are you doing here?”
“Making a copy.” She pointed at the copy machine in the corner.
“Fine.” She barely glanced her way.
Rosemary headed to the copy machine, placed the original on the screen, and closed the lid.
Libby’s phone rang. “Hey. I’m still here.”
Rosemary pressed the button. The machine whirred, but nothing came out.
“It was a horrible weekend.” Libby’s sigh was long and drawn out. “Everett and I had that fight, and he went off to sulk.” She paused. “He’s over it now.”
Rosemary pressed the button again and waited. No copy. She opened the lid and closed it again, scanning the copy machine’s small screen for any messages. Nothing.
“He’s hot, then cold.” Libby’s whisper was clearly audible. “I can’t keep up with his mood swings.”
Which was nothing like Everett. Nothing at all. Rosemary opened the top of the machine, then closed it. Nothing happened. Who was Libby talking to anyway? Why was she still here—so late? She mashed the button again. Nothing.
“But he is so hot.” Libby giggled.
Rosemary didn’t want to interrupt, but she did want to get out of here. “Libby.” She cleared her throat. “Libby, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Libby’s blue eyes were ice-cold. “What, Rosemary?” A pause. “Yes, she’s here making a copy.”
“I need a hand with the copy machine.” She nodded at the machine. “It’s not working.”
“Hold on.” She held up one finger. “I’ll call you back, Kate.” Then there was a brilliant smile on Libby’s face. “Yes. Okay. I’ll tell her.” She hung up.
Rosemary stared at the phone. That had been Kate? She shoved the long-standing anxiety aside, refusing to let the sisters get the better of her.
“Kate told me to tell you hi and that she hopes to catch up with you soon.” Her tight smile was full of menace. “The machine is old. Sometimes you have to flip it on and off for it to work.” Libby flipped the switch, then looked at her. “How many?”
“Um...one.” She swallowed.
“What’s the matter with you?” Libby frowned and pressed the button. “Are you sick? You look pale. And sweaty.” She took a step back. “I can’t afford to get sick.” She handed her the copy, then the original.
“I’m fine.” Rosemary took the papers from her.
“You don’t look fine.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “You look... Something’s wrong.”
“Tired, I guess.” She swallowed, a jagged lump blocking her throat, and held out the copy. “I’m supposed to leave a sign-in sheet for you?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Libby snatched the paper back. “I’m behind because I’ve been getting calls all day about your book.” She scanned the list and carried it back to her desk. “Everett told me you’re not going to sell it. I don’t know why you’d put it on social media like that.” She peered up at Rosemary, one brow arched high.
“I didn’t—”
“Right.” Libby rolled her eyes. “Kerrielynn did.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, Rosemary? Really? Your whole life, you’ve been bragging, over and over, about how you’ve got ‘important work’ to do.” She used air quotes around important work. “How you couldn’t wait to leave Honey. Yet here you are.”
“I never said I couldn’t wait to leave Honey.” She frowned. She’d never wanted to leave Honey. She’d thought she had to.
“Whatever. Why are you sticking around?” Libby brushed her hair from her shoulder, her features smoothing. “Is it because Everett has a chance to be happy—and it doesn’t center around you? You can’t stand that, can you? That he could be happy without you.”
She swallowed hard. “Libby... I want Everett to be happy.”
“Then leave.” She stood. “If you really mean that, you’ll go. You come home, and his family and friends are on him to pick you, woo you, always you... Even if it’s not what he wants. You put a lot of pressure on him, whether you mean to or not.” Her blue eyes swept over her face. “Do you know what he wants? I bet you haven’t even asked him. And you’re supposed to be his best friend.”
Yes, she knew what he wanted. To be friends, only. Not that she’d ever tell Libby as much. Where was this hostility coming from? Rosemary paused, scrambling for something coherent to say.
“My whole life, no one has ever measured up to you and your sisters. The Bee Girls. The good girls. The perfect Hill family and their precious bees.” She broke off, her voice turning brittle. When she spoke again, she was calm. “Could it be that, outside of Honey, you’re not everyone’s darling? That you need to make sure you’ve got an adoring fan club, so that when you leave, you know you’ll be missed?” Her tone was deceptively soft as she continued, “You’re selfish. Before you go making more decisions that affect the people who love you, you should make sure it’s what’s right for everyone. Your sisters and aunts haven’t been sitting around pining for the day you’d come home. They’ve been doing and living. I’m sure you were missed, but they were all fine without you, Rosemary. No, they were all happy. Everett was, too. Think about that.”
Rosemary was stunned into silence.
“Now...” Libby shook her head and headed back around her desk. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my work. Not important work, like yours, but work nonetheless.”
“Libby... I don’t know what happened to make you dislike me so much, but...if I did something to you to make you feel lesser or slighted or insignificant, I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “That’s a horrible feeling. I’d never intentionally try to hurt or demean you or anyone.”
Libby’s hand froze, the phone halfway to her ear. “You couldn’t make me feel any of those things.” But there wasn’t the same bite to her words.
“Then maybe it’s time you find someone else to bully? Or better yet, stop. There’s no point in holding on to such...such anger all the time. We’re not in high school anymore, Libby. You’re an adult. You can be happy. I don’t know why you’re still trying to hurt me, but it won’t work now.” She kept her voice low and even, refusing to reveal just how hard she was fighting against her anxiety. “I mean it when I say... I wish you well.”
For a split second, maybe two, Libby was shocked speechless. “Whatever. Stop wasting my time,” she snapped, dialing the phone and turning away from her. “It’s me. I told you’d I’d call you back.” She glared at Rosemary. “She’s gone. We’re free to talk.”
Rosemary backed out of the room, the office door closing so loudly it echoed up and down the empty hallway. She hurried, all but running from the building, down the steps, and to the Honey Hill Farms van parked in the staff parking lot around back. She put the key in the ignition and started the van—but she was shaking too hard to drive. Instead, she gripped the steering wheel and burst into tears.
She’d done it—tried to breech the gap between her and Libby. It hadn’t been successful, but at least she could say she tried. Rosemary had grown and changed, but Libby seemed stuck in time—as petty and hateful as ever. Chances were she’d never figure out why Libby hated her, but it didn’t matter. Rosemary wasn’t going to let any of the nastiness Libby had hurled her way get to her.
Everett wasn’t involved with her. He never would be.
She didn’t need praise or a fan club or attention—that had never been what drove her. Making a difference did.
And even though Libby would be all too happy for her to leave town, she knew her family and friends wouldn’t be.
She wiped at her tears with the back of her hands and took a deep breath. Poppa Tom had once said the Owens girls were hard-hearted because they had to be. But try as she might, she couldn’t dig up sympathy for Libby. Kindness was a choice. Libby had never shown her kindness. Instead, she’d continually zeroed in on Rosemary’s insecurities and exploited them. Like her shyness. Her “freakish” intellect. And her friendship with Everett.
Jenny and Gramma Dot were right—Libby must want Everett for herself and thought of Rosemary as competition. Considering Everett wanted to keep things status quo between them, Libby had no reason to feel threatened. Not that Everett would date someone like Libby. He wouldn’t. Rosemary knew that.
By the time she parked the van behind the honey house, she was calm. Exhausted but calm. She opened the driver’s door of the van and slipped out, unsteady on her feet. She leaned against the side and closed her eyes, sucking in deep breaths while trying to hold her tears at bay.
There was a chill in the air, enough to prick up the hair along her arms and the back of her neck. The faint coo of a dove echoed in some far-off pasture. The crickets were warming up for their evening serenade. But it was the faint buzz in the air that chased away the remaining ick from her run-in with Libby.
Honey would always draw bees, and there was always honey in the honey house. Frames heavy with honey, frames waiting to be stored for later use, or the large metal extractors or tools dotted with sticky golden beads of honey the bees were happily collecting. She opened her eyes, letting her vision adjust to the growing dark.
A bee’s life was simple. Bees did what needed to be done to take care of one another, to protect their hive, and never give up. Humans could learn a lot from bees.
“I’m not going to give up, either,” she murmured, walking along the path that led to the house. From now on, she wasn’t going to let Libby get into her head. Today, the tide had turned, and there was no going back. And it felt good.
The kitchen was crowded: her sisters and aunts, Shelby and Bea, and Van and Roman.
“Rosemary. There’s a plate for you in the microwave.” Aunt Camellia was slicing into her triple-layer honey butter cake. “But you can have dessert first, if you like.”
“Dessert first?” Tansy looked up from the puzzle covering the kitchen table. “That’s not fair.” Her eldest sister’s gaze met hers. “Rose?”
Astrid’s mossy green eyes found her. “Rosemary...what’s wrong?”
Her sisters hurried around the table.
“You’re as white as a sheet.” Aunt Magnolia draped an arm around her shoulders. “You need some tea.”
“I’m fine. I’m great, actually.” But she couldn’t manage a smile. In fact, she was dangerously close to bursting into tears again.
“Roman.” Van stood, nodding toward the kitchen door. “You still game for that chess match?”
“Yep.” Roman all but ran from the room after Van.
“They don’t have to go.” Rosemary stared after them. “Really, I-I’m fine...” She took a deep breath. “I told Libby Owens-Baldwin off. Sort of. For me anyway.” So the deep guttural sobs ripping from her chest and spilling out of her didn’t make any sense. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Oh, Rose.” Tansy pulled a chair close and sat beside her. “I can see how confronting your childhood monsters face-to-face might be a little emotional.” She draped an arm along Rosemary’s shoulders. “I wish I’d been there to see it. You’re such a badass.”
“First Dr. Voigt. Now Libby.” Astrid rubbed her hands together. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I am sobbing in the kitchen.” Rosemary wiped away her tears. “It’s just...” She broke off and shook her head.
“Don’t do that.” Astrid’s voice was gentle. “Don’t shut us out. Together, we can sort this out. Whatever it is.”
“I’m feeling insecure.” Which was true. And an understatement. “I know everything she said was just to make me do this.” She pointed at her face. “And I know she’s full of...shit. So why do I let her get to me?”
“Because she’s been responsible for years of torment?” Astrid suggested.
“Maybe she said something that hit one of your own fears?” Aunt Camellia’s tone was gentle.
“What, exactly, are you feeling insecure about?” Aunt Mags was filling the teakettle with water.
“Life.” She took the tissue Shelby handed her, smiling her thanks when Shelby set the whole box in front of her.
“Been there.” Shelby sat opposite her. “We are our own worst critic.”
Rosemary was pretty sure Libby Owens-Baldwin was right up there, but she only nodded.
“I’ve always... If I want to stay here, in Honey, is that okay? Because I want to stay here? Not for a little while. I want to stay here.” She twisted the tissue between her hands. “But...am I letting you down? Or getting in the way? Am I disappointing Poppa Tom?”
That led to a moment of absolute silence.
“Rosemary.” Aunt Camellia placed a huge piece of cake on the table in front of her, then ran a hand over Rosemary’s hair. “Sweet girl, you could never disappoint Poppa Tom. Never. And why on earth would you think you’d need to ask if it was okay for you to stay here?”
“Of course we want you to stay.” Astrid was crying then. “I’m pregnant, so I can be as emotional as I want, okay?” She took a tissue. “I never wanted you to leave.”
Rosemary smiled at her sister.
“But we wanted you to be happy, so what sort of sister would I be if I told you to stay?” Astrid blotted at her tears. “A bad sister, that’s what.”
“When you love someone, that’s what you want, Rose. Right? Even if it sucks.” Tansy sniffed and took her hand. “We’ll support whatever you want. But if you’re asking us what we want then, yeah, what Astrid said. You being gone was...horrible.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
Tansy’s words bounced around in her head. They’d held their silence so she’d be happy. Everett. Could that be what he was doing? Or was she so desperate for him to love her, she wanted that to be the case?
“Rosemary.” Even Shelby reached for a tissue now. “For what it’s worth, I’d like you to stay, too. I’d like to get to know you. You’re all my family—but it’s all so new. And wonderful.”
“It is, isn’t it? We are lucky to be Bee Girls.” Rosemary was crying again.
“Always.” Tansy rested her head on Rosemary’s shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Any of you.” Rosemary rested her head on Tansy’s. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s enough of that.” Aunt Mags placed a cup of tea in front of her. “You will not apologize for doing what you needed to do to figure out what you wanted. That’s just life, Rose. That’s the way it should be.” She smiled. “Selfishly, I’m delighted that you’re home to stay. As long as that’s what you want.”
“This is what I want.” Rosemary took another tissue. “It’s just, Poppa Tom wanted me to do big things—”
“You have,” Aunt Camellia said. “And you will. You’ll do big things right here in Honey. Be that discovering the next honey-based vaccine or having a dozen babies or writing a series of bee-centric children’s books...”
“Or all of the above,” Astrid interjected.
“Or all of the above.” Aunt Camellia nodded. “Whatever you decide to do will be big to us, Rose.”
“Your confrontation with Libby brought this on?” Aunt Mags sat beside Shelby, her eyes laser-focused.
All eyes swiveled to Rosemary.
“Partly.” She swallowed. “Everett.” She swallowed again. “I love him.” So much. “Even though he doesn’t want to be anything more than friends, I do. And if there’s even the smallest chance he’s doing what you all did, I should tell him how I feel, shouldn’t I?”
She hoped so, because tomorrow, bad idea or not, she was going to tell Everett Michael Taggert how she felt.
* * *
THIS LATE, the back country roads between his parents’ house and his own were normally deserted. There weren’t many lights along the winding road—not exactly the sort of drive to make after dark. Even he, who made the trek a dozen times or more a week, didn’t relish being out this late. That was why it was a surprise to see an unfamiliar car on the side of the road.
He pulled far off onto the shoulder and parked, rifled through his glove box for a flashlight, and went to check out the situation.
From the looks of it, there were three people inside—triggering all sorts of red flags. He paused and fired off a text to the local state highway patrol before getting out, leaving his headlights on.
“Hello?” he called out. “You need some help?” He spied the blown back passenger tire. “I can give you a hand changing that tire, if you want?”
The passenger door opened, and a teenage boy got out. “Thanks, mister. We’ve got a friend coming.”
“You sure?” Everett pointed the flashlight into the car. Sure enough, two other teens were inside. He didn’t like the idea of leaving a bunch of kids out here on their own.
“We’re good.” The boy shifted from one foot to the next.
Everett glanced down at the boy’s feet. Black shoes. Black pants. Black shirt. Black hoodie. Not something most of the kids in these parts wore. Unless it was one of the @paint.ballers. Dammit.
