Rosalind was very in love. With Tommy. She had been in love since she was thirteen, and she never really stopped. There was still snow coating the ground in Boston, Rosalind was on her way to a job that she adored, and she was in love with a handsome lawyer.
She believed that her and Tommy were for sure, no doubt, absolutely, definitely a great romance.
But sometimes Rosalind did wonder, especially since turning 25 over a year ago, what other great romances could she possibly be missing? What chances were passing her by?
Rosalind was beautiful, and she had always known it. Being a strong and smart Penderwick woman, she had never thought that physical beauty was all she had to offer the world. She had never believed that looking pretty was the most important thing. But she had always been aware that she was pretty.
Her sisters had told her first. Jane would gab on and on about how Rosalind was the most beautiful sister, with her gleaming chestnut locks and elegant bone structure reminiscent of Cleopatra or Emma Woodhouse, and whatever other historical or fictional women Jane would think up. Batty, too, would tell Rosalind she wanted to be beautiful, just like Rosalind, when she got older. Lucky for Batty, they were nearly identical nowadays.
Even Skye had said Rosalind was beautiful, every now and then. When Rosalind would ask Skye if she looked alright in an outfit, Skye would shrug and say: "You are always beautiful."
It was an irrefutable fact. And then later in life, many others had repeated it. Tommy, of course. But also older neighbors, relatives, half the boys she met in college.
If anything, Rosalind had gotten more and more beautiful the older she got. Hers was not a brief flash of youthful loveliness at fifteen. Nor did post-graduate life burn it out of her. At almost 27, Rosalind was lean and tan from working on the urban farm, her hair was long and shiny, and her eyes were as bright as ever.
So Rosalind knew she had plenty of chances to try someone else. To try a different love. And she knew she would continue to have those chances.
But she loved Tommy. She did.
She had never been so happy as she was when Tommy proposed last fall. He had given her a tiny ruby ring, and both of their families had been so overjoyed. And when Jeffrey had insisted they have the wedding at Arundel, Rosalind's heart felt like it might overflow.
"Tommy and Rosalind!" Jane had shouted. "The epic tale of One True Love that defines our time!"
Jane had meant well, but when she said "one true love," Rosalind had only heard "love wasted on one man." All her beauty, all her time, all devoted to one person.
As she walked into the compound and headed to the kitchen/office space, Rosalind shook her head. She was being crazy. Bride jitters. And she wasn't even a bride, technically. The wedding wasn't until late August. She had fiance jitters. Which wasn't a thing.
"Good morning, Ava," Rosalind said to her co-worker. "Any word on the suppliers for spring?"
"Emailing them now!" Ava chirped.
Rosalind set her back down on the table and told herself to focus.
After all, Rosalind might be in love, but she didn't have to let it distract her. She hadn't let love derail her since she was twelve, and that was something she could be proud of.