“You’re already—” Lizanne started.
“Ready for you? Yes, yes, I am.”
Lizanne didn’t finish the sentence. She pressed her lips to the corner of Rose’s jaw instead, and her fingers moved deeper, and Rose bit down hard on her lip.
Lizanne’s thumb found the right place. Moved in slow, deliberate circles that didn’t waver or rush regardless of the clock. Rose’s hips pushed into her hand. Her breathing had gone ragged and she was gripping the back of Lizanne’s blouse with both hands now, holding on while Lizanne held her up against the mirror and kept the pressure exactly where it needed to be.
“Rose,” Lizanne said, very quietly, against her ear. Just her name. Nothing else.
That was what did it.
Rose came with her forehead pressed hard against Lizanne’s shoulder and one hand over her own mouth and the other twisting the back of Lizanne’s blouse past any hope of saving it. She shook, silent except for the breath she couldn’t fully muffle, and Lizanne held her until the trembling eased and Rose could breathe again.
They straightened themselves in the mirror. Rose tucking her shirt, Lizanne doing what she could with her blouse, both of them not quite looking at each other and not quite not looking. Rose ran a hand through her hair. Lizanne smoothed her collar. A completely ordinary series of actions that had no business feeling the way they felt.
They walked back out into the shop, past the glassware and the linen throws and the candles with no prices on them. Loraine looked up from her tablet. John picked up his camera. Rose lifted a throw from the nearest display and said she thought this one would work well in the bedroom. John startedrolling, and the afternoon resumed as though nothing had happened in the back of the shop at all.
Which was, Rose thought, becoming something of a recurring theme in her life.
Chapter 22
Lizanne
The toy store was three blocks from the house. Pat had suggested it because it was small and independent, which usually meant fewer photographers than the big chains. That had sounded right at eight in the morning. By the time they walked in, Lizanne was already second-guessing the bear display and standing in front of a wall of stuffed animals like she was trying to defuse a bomb.
“You’re doing it again,” Pat said.
“I’m looking.”
“You’ve been looking at the same bear for four minutes.”
“They’re all different.”
Pat looked at the bears. They were not different. “Lizanne. It’s a birthday party for a six-year-old. Pick a soft one and let’s go.”
“I want to get it right.”
“I know you do.”
“She already has Biscuit. She doesn’t need another big animal. But something too small looks like I didn’t think about it. And if I overthink it, then it becomes—”
“The diamond necklace situation,” Pat said.
Lizanne straightened her back. “That was a reasonable idea.”
“It was a D-pendant in diamonds for a child who can’t tie her own shoes yet.”
“It was tasteful.”
Pat dipped her head to one side. Lizanne’s cheeks burned. She should have known buying a diamond necklace for Daisy would be a mistake. Thank goodness she had shown her the next necklace beforehand. Lizanne had sent it back to the store the following day.
“Rose’s exact words were—”
“I know what Rose’s words were.” Lizanne moved to the next shelf. “The point is I didn’t know it was too much. I genuinely didn’t know. That’s the problem. I don’t know what kids want. I don’t have a way to gauge it, and I don’t want to get it wrong and have Daisy think I didn’t care.”
Pat was quiet for a second. Then: “Is something going on with you and Rose?”
Lizanne picked up a small brown bear with a yellow ribbon. “Yes.”
