April 14th
Roz pulled her truck into the driveway alongside Barbarella, and shut off the engine. Her days off started now; it would be several weeks before she saw her toolbox and jumpsuit again, and the knowledge delighted her no end. She got out of the truck and headed for her place.
Greg was where she'd expected him to be, settled on the couch to watch tv, with Hellboy draped around his shoulders like a fur stole. Both man and cat looked up as she came in. Roz put her coat on the rack, came over and sat down next to Greg. He gave her a thorough inspection. "You smell like solder and there's dust in your hair," he said.
"Fine. I'll go take a shower before you kiss me, mister clean freak," she said, and squeaked when he tugged her off-balance so that she fell into his arms.
"I didn't say I minded," he said, and kissed her. His tongue stroked hers gently. When it ended she brushed her lips across his, felt him give a tiny little shiver. "You work ridiculous hours." His breath ghosted over her skin.
"Not for the next month or so. You don't look any the worse for wear from last night," she said softly.
"It isn't for lack of trying," Greg said. Hellboy stirred and put a paw against Roz's cheek, his green-gold eyes half-closed as he purred. Both she and Greg chuckled. Greg's gaze met hers, bright with amusement, and Roz felt her heart expand with love. But she only said,
"You're all set for dinner?"
"Pizza and beer," he said as Hellboy stretched and yawned, then jumped down to go into the kitchen and get a snack. "Gene and Singh are coming over later with the guys, we're gonna watch the game."
"Okay," Roz said. She'd suspected as much when she'd offered him the use of her apartment while the bridal shower/girls night in was taking place at the Goldman's.
"That's it? 'Okay'? No dire threats, no nagging?" Greg gave her a smug smile. "I have you trained already."
"You just keep thinking that." Roz patted his chest and stood. "Remember, if I come home to a mess before we leave for the airport, you'll be sleeping on the couch. And I don't mean for one night, either." She bit back a laugh when Greg's eyes widened. "Thanks for training me," she said sweetly, and went upstairs to shower, change her clothes and retrieve her overnight bag.
It didn't take long to get ready since she'd packed that morning. Her dress and other wedding items waited at the Goldman's home. She and Greg would return to spend the night here after the ceremony and reception, then drive to the airport in the afternoon. The thought filled her with equal parts excitement and apprehension, mixed with a wild, deep joy she'd never known before. They would do this, they would be a true couple now, just like Poppi and Nana . . . She took a breath to steady her nerves and went downstairs, bag in hand.
Greg was on the phone when she entered the living room. "—sausage and double cheese," he said. "Gene will stop by to get it. Okay, cool." He flipped the phone shut and looked at her. "You're not getting dressed up. I thought you'd start off with dinner at that place in Albany where they have the male strippers."
"You guys might like to leer at naked chicks, but I got everything I need right here." She kissed his cheek.
"That is completely unfair," Greg said. He glared at her. "Stop trying to induce guilt. You have my blessing to ogle all the handsome young men you want."
"I'll remember that when we're in Italy," Roz said, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. She sensed real anxiety behind the teasing though, so she dropped the bag to the floor and sat next to him. "How was your day?"
"You don't have to fluff me," Greg snapped. It was one of their private phrases, something he'd started after he'd discovered she'd never watched porn and had no idea what a fluffer was. Her guess that all porn actors ate fluffer-nutters had made him laugh in a way she'd never seen before, full and open. It had been a glimpse of the man inside the fortress, one of a number of intriguing moments that had led to so much more for both of them.
"I'm not," she said. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know." She leaned back and slipped an arm around his waist. "Tell me."
Greg relaxed a bit, so she knew she was on the right track. "You have someplace to be."
"It's just across the village. I'll get there when I get there," she said. "Right now I want to be with you."
"You'll be seeing plenty of me for the next few weeks," Greg said. Roz laughed softly.
"Sounds great." She meant it too. His vivid gaze searched her features. Then he nodded, a little uncertain but still reassured.
"'kay."
"Singh give you a hard time about having to miss out?" Roz rested her head against his shoulder. Greg's arm came up to pull her closer.
"You could say that," he said. "I got all the OB/GYN exams today. Which means I had to warm up speculums for most of the afternoon."
"So what's wrong with that?" Roz said, and fought the urge to giggle. "You probably didn't object to seeing naked women last night."
"Duh." Greg gave her hip a light smack. "Smartass." They sat together in companionable silence for a few moments, content to simply be close.
"So what do women do for a bridal shower and girls night in?" Greg asked after a time.
"Well . . . we'll have dinner, I'm making a salad and Poppi's sending us some really yummy vegetarian calzones and great-grandpa's San Marzano cream puff cake. Kris is bringing fresh hummus with pita wedges and I think Sarah's got a vat of white wine sangria in the fridge. Chitra's making pakoras, and Remy said—"
"Wait-Thirteen's gonna be there? That double-dipper." Greg sounded amused.
"'Thirteen'?"
"I'll explain it to you sometime if you give me a blowjob before you go."
"Wow, you're such a romantic," Roz said in a dry tone. "How can I resist an invitation like that?"
There was a pause. "Uh, it's the age she was deflowered," Greg said. Roz snorted. "Continue."
"Remy's bringing some chips and dip, I think. I'll probably get some nice gifts and some silly things too—"
"'Silly.'" Roz smiled as Greg's quick mind latched onto the word. "Explain."
"You know, a cookbook for sexy dinners for two or a black lace thong, that kind of thing. Then we'll watch chick flicks and eat chocolate and popcorn and drink wine. And we'll talk about our men."
Greg flinched. "You mean you do comparisons."
"Well yeah," Roz said. "Size, length, endurance, skill, facial expressions . . ."
Greg gave her a suspicious look. "You do not."
She nodded solemnly. "Uh huh, yes we do."
"Oh, I so didn't need to know that," he groaned. Roz laughed.
"You don't have anything to worry about, amante. I won't be complaining, I'll be bragging." He actually brightened a little, and Roz had to hide a smile. Men.
"You ready for this?" Greg asked at last. Roz nodded.
"I think so," she said. "How about you?"
"Yeah," he said. "But there's still time to elope to Vegas. Take the car, take the money, find a drive-in chapel and hide out on the Strip."
"I say we save that for our tenth anniversary," Roz said. Greg looked down at her, brows raised.
"You really think we'll be together that long."
"Yeah," she said. "I do. Longer, too." He didn't reply but his hold tightened gently, as his hand caressed her hip.
She left finally, reluctant to go but also well aware he'd played her to some extent. 'Pushing limits', Sarah had said, and this one came up the most. "You can always call me if you get lonely," she said.
"You're gonna regret saying that," Greg said. Roz laughed.
"Bring it on," she said, and leaned up to kiss him before she got off the couch. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"'kay," he said. She heard fear under his reply, and her ebulliance dimmed. How many times had people broken their promises to him, left him abandoned or worse yet, rejected?
"Hey," she said, and waited until he looked at her. "I'll be there. You'd better be too, or I'll hunt you down and it won't be pretty when I find you, buster."
That did the trick. His apprehension faded as his lean face creased with humor and challenge. "I'll flee the state."
"I'll haul your ass back to the border, marry you and shackle you to the bed," she said, and flashed a grin at him. "Word."
"You make that sound like a bad thing. Only one shackle? Amateur." He waved a dismissive hand at her, but she could tell he was pleased. "Get lost."
She didn't answer him, just sauntered to the door, and swung her hips. She collected her coat and put it on as if it was a reverse strip-tease, with a bump and grind. "Stop taunting me!" he yelled, but she heard the laughter in his voice. Roz blew him a kiss and went out the door. She felt lighter and happier than she had when she'd come in.
When she arrived at the Goldman's, it was to find several cars parked in the circular drive. Most of them were familiar, but one appeared to be a rental. Roz got out of the truck and headed for the door. It opened to reveal Sarah and Laynie.
"Hey, it's the woman of the hour!" Laynie said, and hurried forward to give Roz a big hug. "I'm so glad for you hon! Okay, let's get things going. Lots to do!" She took off into the house. Sarah offered a hug as well.
"How are you?" she asked softly as they went inside.
"Okay," Roz said, and meant it. She was a little nervous, but she looked forward to what was about to happen. "Greg was afraid I wouldn't be here tomorrow."
Sarah nodded. "Understandable. I'm sure he doesn't feel that way now though, does he?"
Roz smiled. "No," she said, and Sarah chuckled.
"Good for you." She took Roz's coat and overnight bag. "Make yourself comfortable, sis. Everyone's in the kitchen getting supper ready."
Roz moved into the main room and stopped, astonished. She knew Sarah had put a great deal of time and effort to clean the house from the top down, had even seen her work on it from time to time over the last couple of months, but the results went far beyond expectations. The windows had been washed and hung with new curtains, the wood gleamed with a fresh coat of polish, the fireplace and chimney were free of soot, and the oriental carpets and furniture upholstery were cleaned, their soft colors renewed. There were pots of tulips and paper-whites everywhere, as well as hurricane lamps with etched-crystal shades placed to provide pools of light. Dark green lace garlands hung in swags over the windows, from the mantelpiece and along the banister, tied in place with black velvet ribbon rosettes. It was simple, elegant and far, far more than Sarah needed to do. Roz stood there, a lump in her throat. Don't cry, she thought. She willed the tears away, and went into the kitchen.
The party was in full swing. The island was loaded with food, and there was a large pitcher of white sangria along with glasses. Laynie helped Sarah; Roz could see Kris and Remy in attendance, as well as Singh's wife, Chitra. Roz was greeted with cries of welcome, hugs and kisses, then made to sit down while a plate was filled up for her and a wine glass full of sangria put in her hand. It felt weird to be the center of attention, but in a good way. I could get used to this, Roz thought. She sipped the sangria and almost smacked her lips; it was deliciously tart-sweet and cool. The last of her nervousness faded. They would have a great evening.
They ate supper in the living room and watched Sense and Sensibility while they talked and laughed about the movie, and all the tangents the conversation brought up. At the end Sarah got to her feet and went into the office, to come back with an armful of gifts and a green lace parasol with a dark green velvet ribbon threaded through the bottom border. Roz blushed as the packages were placed on the couch next to her. Then Sarah perched the parasol over Roz's head. "I'm a sucker for tradition," she said with a smile, and sat in the easy chair next to the couch—Greg's favorite spot. "Open a gift, sis."
Roz received a silk bathrobe in a luscious shade of red; a basket of handmade herbal soaps, essential oils and shampoo; two big boxes of gourmet chocolates; a leather-bound journal and a rosewood fountain pen, and a coupon for a day at the spa. The last package held a gift basket packed with a New York Times crossword puzzle book, two romance bodice-ripper paperbacks, a votive holder and tea lights, and a tin of shortbread cookies. Tucked between the books was a black fitted tee shirt. When it was unrolled, Roz discovered it had the words 'MRS DR HOUSE' printed across the front in bold white letters.
"In case you get bored while you're in Italy and feel the need to show off a little," Laynie said. Roz laughed with the others, but she had a feeling Greg would be the one with puzzles in hand first. She was never bored when she was with him, but she wasn't always sure he felt the same way. As for the tee shirt, well . . . she liked it so she would wear it now and then, regardless of Greg's attitude.
Roz shared the chocolates as Sarah brought in another pitcher of sangria and began the second movie, 10 Things I Hate About You. She started a fire in the fireplace, and soon a soothing wave of warmth scented with applewood crept into the room.
"How about a backrub?" Kris said. Roz accepted with gratitude. She settled in between Kris's legs and let her head drop forward, to sigh in relief as slender fingers began to work the tension out of tight muscles.
"So you're going to stay in a real villa," Laynie said. "That's so romantic."
"You packed some warm clothes too, right? It can get cold in Tuscany at night during the spring," Kris said.
"That just gives you a good excuse to snuggle together," Chitra said, and looked at Remy when she chuckled.
"Sorry," Remy said. "I'm sorry, Roz, my apologies. It's just . . . House just doesn't have a reputation for being romantic."
"I know," Roz said. "He tends to hide it pretty well. Take it from me, it's there."
"Most men have a romantic side to them," Sarah said. "They've been taught not to show it, but when you give them a chance to indulge, they have fun."
The conversation turned toward romance and how both sexes expressed it. Eventually Roz patted Kris's hands.
"Thank you, that was wonderful," she said, and meant it. Her shoulders and upper back were relaxed and knot-free for the first time in ages. "Be right back."
She used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen to grab a calzone. While she looked over her choices, Remy came in. To Roz's mild surprise the other woman faced her. She looked a bit nervous.
"I really didn't mean to be a jerk," she said. "It's just that I've only ever seen House in one capacity, and he's not exactly a sweetheart at work."
Roz nodded. "He isn't in general. I didn't take offense." She studied Remy for a moment. "Can I ask why he calls you Thirteen?"
"In-joke," Remy said. "He was told to get a new team when his old one quit and he didn't want to, so he hired forty people and used process of elimination to find the three he really wanted."
"I get it," Roz said. She lifted the waxed paper on the box of calzones and took a mushroom and cheese. "He told me it was the age you lost your virginity."
Remy laughed. "Off by a year," she said. "I was twelve." She came over and peered into the box. "Are these good? I've never had one."
"Only the best," Roz said, and pulled the waxed paper back a bit more. "You don't have to watch what you say around me," she said quietly. "I don't have any illusions about how Greg treats people. He can be mean, rude and impatient. But I will stand by him. He's my guy and I love him."
"Fair enough," Remy said. She took a pepper and onion calzone. "Has he called you yet?"
"Yeah," Roz said with a smile. "I'm sure he'll call again. I hope he will anyway. I want him to know he can do that, even when he bugs the hell out of me just because he can."
Remy shook her head. "You have it bad," she said, but she sounded a bit pleased all the same.
"There's a lot to love about Greg House. You just have to be patient and persistent," Roz said. "I'm an electrician. It comes natural."
Remy laughed. "I'm a doctor and it should be that way for me too, but it isn't." She gave Roz a speculative look. "You wire more than houses?"
"You do more than diagnose patients?" Roz countered. Remy grinned.
"I see why he likes you," she said, and slipped out of the kitchen. Roz watched her go, a little puzzled but a bit more enlightened too. When her phone rang she rolled her eyes but answered it. She'd just said she would encourage him to do this; now she had to pay the price for her noble-sounding words.
"Cosa voui, ragazzaccio?" she said, doing her best to sound stern.
"Aw, you're practicing for the trip. How sweet," Greg said.
"I don't have to practice, Italian is my second language."
"Stop gloating," Greg said. "By the way, I'm not a brat. No one's called me that for over forty years now."
"I'll start a new trend then," Roz said. "What is it?"
"You're not drunk yet, so I'll skip to the next question. I hope Laynie and Thirteen in a clinch on the couch. If so, can I come over and watch?"
"No and no. Who won the game?" Roz asked, all innocence.
"I knew it, you're having an orgy. It's mean to hold out," Greg whined. "At least tell me who kissed who first. I can live off that crumb until tomorrow night."
"No. I love you," Roz said, and hung up. She picked up her calzone and went into the living room. "My husband-to-be thinks we're having an orgy," she said.
"Care to explain?" Sarah said after a moment.
She gave them a general overview of the conversation amid a great deal of laughter and snark. Eventually however, energy levels began to flag. It had been a long day for everyone, and so it didn't take much encouragement to get them headed for bed. Roz started to clean up but was scolded and told to relax in an easy chair while the others made quick work of the proceedings.
At last only Sarah and Roz were left downstairs. They sat on the couch together and watched the fire. "How are you feeling?" Sarah said after a little while.
"Good." Roz slid down a little and tipped her head back against Sarah's shoulder. "Thank you for this."
Sarah gave her a gentle hug. "You're welcome, sis. Glad to do it." She tucked a lock of hair behind Roz's ear. "Everything's ready?"
"Yup." Roz sighed softly. "It still doesn't feel quite real, like it's not really happening. I never thought I'd ever find someone." She hesitated, then went on. "Sare, I just don't understand what he sees in me. He's worked with some of the best minds on the planet. He's got one of the best minds. I'm just me, you know? I understand code and I like math, but that's the extent of my brain power."
"You love him as he is," Sarah said. "You want to be with him, you're willing to work with him when things get difficult, but you won't allow yourself to be trampled or pushed. I don't think anyone has ever offered that to him before."
"You do," Roz said.
"As a friend, yes. You're his friend and his lover. It took him a while to accept it, but now he does." Sarah was silent a moment. "He's endured some terrible betrayals, and as a consequence his scars go deep. That he was able to open to you says a lot. Remember that when he's being obnoxious, because he's really, really good at that, in case you hadn't noticed."
"No, it's never come up," Roz said, and they both chuckled.
"He values the truth," Sarah said after a while. "You're a singularly honest woman, Roz. It won't be easy for you, but truthfulness is your second greatest strength besides your love for each other. I think that will make everything else worthwhile."
"Thanks," Roz said.
"Well, you need your beauty sleep," Sarah said after a long, comfortable lull. "Big day tomorrow."
"I'll need all the sleep I can get," Roz said wryly, and was surprised when Sarah faced her.
"You're beautiful in every way," she said. Her sea-green eyes held affection and sincerity. "Greg saw it too. Trust me. Watch his face tomorrow when you come into the room. You'll see."
Later, as Roz lay in Greg's bed, she breathed in his scent and hoped what Sarah had said was true. When her phone rang she smiled and answered it.
"Hey, amante."
"Well hello to you too," her mother said. She sounded vaguely amused. "Guess you were expecting someone else to call."
Roz sat straight up, her tiredness fled. "How did you get this number?" she demanded.
"Jay gave it to me," Marina said, clearly unconcerned. Roz gritted her teeth and made a note to get her cousin in a corner and tear strips off him if it was true. "So what did you do to sucker this guy into marrying you? Are you knocked up? It won't hold him. Your dad didn't stay around, this one won't either."
"It isn't like that," Roz said, and was proud her voice was steady. "If you show your face tomorrow I'll have your ass hauled off to jail."
"Aw, c'mon baby. I won't show up, don't worry." Marina coughed long and hard. "Guess you think you really love 'im," she said finally. She wheezed when she spoke now. Roz closed her eyes and loathed the mix of rage and reluctant compassion she always felt when she had to talk to her mother.
"I know I do," she said. "That makes me a total asshole in your eyes."
"It makes you a hell of a lot smarter than me," Marina said. "I won't bother you again. Just—be happy or somethin', okay? Be happy." And she was gone. Roz ended the call and jumped when the phone rang immediately before she could block the number. She grabbed it, slammed the talk button and said
"Mom, leave me alone!"
"What-your mother called." Greg said. "What the fuck!"
Roz froze. Shit. This was going from bad to worse. "I'm-she—she just—dammit!" She thumped her fist on the bed. "Why did she have to call tonight of all nights?"
"Get Sarah," Greg said. "Get her now. Do it!" he snapped when she hesitated.
"Yeah—yeah, okay," she said, and headed off to find her friend. Five minutes later Sarah sat next to her on the bed, with Greg on speakerphone.
"What did Marina say?" Sarah said.
"She . . . she called to ask me if I was really getting married." Roz sighed. "She wanted to know if I was pregnant and trying to hold onto Greg that way. It was what she did with my dad, getting knocked up with me, but it didn't work." She swallowed and pushed back the memory of schoolyard taunts about her parents, sly digs from people on the job, at the store, even at Poppi's restaurant when she'd worked there. "I told her if she showed I'd have her arrested. She's got a ton of bench warrants out on her."
"She won't come here," Sarah said quietly. "She just wanted to talk to you."
"You can't possibly be taking her mother's side," Greg said.
"I'm saying Marina wanted to check on Roz because this is her little girl getting married," Sarah said. "She's selfish and narcissistic and always has been, but that doesn't mean she can't feel some love for her daughter and want her to be happy."
"Just because you hope for that from your own mother, don't project it onto this bitch," Greg growled.
"I'm not," Sarah said quietly, but Roz saw her flinch. "My mom couldn't have cared less that I'd found someone, I'm well aware of that fact."
"We need to find out how she got your number," Greg snapped. Roz took Sarah's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"She said Jay gave it to her."
"Be right back." There was a brief silence, then Jay's voice came on the phone.
"What's goin' on?"
"You tell me," she said tartly. "Marina just called here, she said you gave her my number."
"What?!" Jay's genuine shock was plain. "Rosie, no way! That bitch! She's lyin'!"
"Then how did . . ." Roz's heart sank. "Oh my god," she said. "She's at Poppi's house."
"Shit!" Jay swore. "Call Matt. I'm goin' down there." He disappeared and after a moment Greg said sharply
"You think she broke into Lou's place."
"Yeah," Roz said, her head in her hand. "She won't hurt anyone, she's just drunk. I bet she got my number off Poppi's speed dial."
"I'll call Matt right now," Sarah said, and went out to get the cordless phone.
After half an hour's confusion, it turned out her mother had indeed broken into Poppi's house and called from there; he was still at the restaurant. Marina was now in custody, on her way to jail. "I don't want to see her," Roz said. She was tired, her earlier anger and anxiety faded into exhaustion. "Dammit, I should have known. She's always done this."
"Are you okay?" Greg said sharply. Roz heard the deep anxiety behind his words and did her best to lighten things up.
"I'm fine, but you might reconsider taking me on now that you really know how nuts my mother is."
"I'm not marrying her." He didn't speak for a moment. "I can come home," he said, but he sounded uncertain. Roz glanced at Sarah, who smiled but said nothing.
"I'm okay," Roz said. She knew he wasn't good at comfort, and to make him drive across the village at this time of night, just so she could hold his hand, was selfish on her part. "I want you, but that was true before this happened. How about you?" she asked quietly. "Are you all right?"
His snort of amusement surprised her. "I've dealt with worse and have the scars to prove it," he said. "Okay then."
"Okay," Roz said. She ended the call and was astonished when she felt tears slide down her cheeks. Sarah didn't look surprised or dismayed; instead she gathered Roz up and held her close.
"That's better," Sarah said after the storm had passed. "But you can't get married looking like someone punched you in the face." She got up and went out into the quiet house, to return with a washcloth. Roz took the cold compress and held it to her swollen eyes. "Tell me what you're feeling."
"Why does she always show up at the worst times? She tries to ruin everything good that ever happens to me."
She hasn't ruined anything unless you allow her to," Sarah said gently. "But I would suggest you think about what she said, sis. She was trying to find out if you were happy, and she wants you to have a better life than she did."
Roz gave a shaky sigh. "She has a funny way of showing it."
"It's the only way she has," Sarah said. "All right, enough. We can talk about this later. You have a big day tomorrow. I suggest a mild sedative and plenty of rest. Call your guy, he's worried about you." She gave Roz's shoulder a gentle pat. "I'll be right back with something to help you sleep."
Greg answered on the first ring. "What?" His voice was harsh, anxious.
"I just wanted to say goodnight," Roz said. "Everything's all right."
"You've been crying."
"Yes," she said. "My mother tends to cause that reaction. It's one of the reasons why I stay the hell away from her, she ruins my perfect looks."
That earned her a reluctant chuckle. "You'll have a tough time sleeping tonight."
"Sarah's getting me something to take." She picked up a pillow and hugged it to her, breathed in Greg's scent. "Will you be okay?"
"If people don't call me all night long, yeah." But she could tell he didn't really mean it. "Stop obsessing and get some rest. We have a lot to do. And I don't mean the wedding."
Roz smiled a little. She still hurt, she still felt scared, but she wasn't alone. "Yeah," she said. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you. Goodnight, amante."
"Get some sleep," Greg said, and he was gone.
cosa voui, ragazzaccio—what do you want, brat