November 16, 2003
Rose sat in the front seat of the van, staring out at the window at the passing desert scenery. There wasn’t much to see so late in the year, but it did distract her from her thoughts.
She had made up with Tim that morning, at least enough so that he was able to convince her to sit up front with him while he drove. She wasn’t very good company, though, staring out the window and listening absently to the radio instead of talking to him—or anyone else, for that matter.
Rose sighed inwardly, looking at the dry, brown land that they were passing, barren except for a few saguaro cacti reaching toward the sky. They would be back in California soon, and in spite of her misgivings about returning to southern California, she was looking forward to performing again, looking forward to being warm and having enough to eat again.
She glanced behind her, seeing that the other three members of the band were dozing, lulled by the monotonous drive and the motion of the van. She was tired herself, having stayed up far too late the night before, but sleep wouldn’t come.
She had been too irritable, her mind racing with thoughts that she couldn’t suppress, to fall asleep the night before. She had sat beside the faintly glowing coals of the fire until the wee hours of the morning, ignoring both Tim and Daffodil when they told her she should get some rest. Instead, she had sat wrapped in her bedroll, listening to the coyotes and thinking.
First and foremost in her mind was her relationship with Tim. Getting involved with him at all had been a mistake—she realized that, although she had tried not to think about it. She should have insisted that things remain the way they were, with the two of them working together as business acquaintances, and perhaps friends, but she hadn’t listened to the voice of reason that had told her that getting so involved with him was a bad idea. Instead, she had given in to their mutual lust, but there was nothing else to cement their relationship—and it had been too soon for her, anyway. Her mind, and her heart, were still filled by someone else, someone that Tim knew nothing about—and she wasn’t about to tell him.
She had been thinking about Jack more lately—the greater the strain between herself and Tim, the more she remembered Jack, and how comfortable they had been together. Although Rose enjoyed her freedom, and the new life she had found, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would have been like if Jack had survived.
There wasn’t any real use in speculating, of course—it was over and done with, in the past, and couldn’t be changed—but she still wondered sometimes. Would they have stayed together? Would she have made her home with him? What direction might her life have taken, had Jack not been killed that night?
She probably would have stayed in Masline, but beyond that, she had no idea what she would have done. She thought about different scenarios, but the fact remained that she would never know. Jack had died, and she had set out on her own. Her life was what she made of it—as it would have been if he had lived, she realized. Once, she had been too afraid of what might happen to take control of her own life, to do what she wanted to do, but she had gained strength and conviction over the past year, and no one, no matter how much she loved and cared for them, would ever be able to run her life, whether their reasons were good or bad. She would have made her own decisions, just as she did now, but she knew with a certainty that Jack would have been a part of her life, one way or another.
Rose glanced into the back again. The other band members were still sleeping, looking almost childlike. Unless there was a loud noise, or a sudden stop, they probably wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.
She turned to Tim, who was watching the road, looking a little sleepy himself. Tapping him on the shoulder, she steeled herself for what she had to say.
"Tim?"
"Yeah, Rose?"
"I…I…you know how we fight so much, and get on each other’s nerves?"
He glanced at her, then returned to watching the road. "Yeah?"
"Tim…I…you know this isn’t making either of us happy, and it’s…not good for the band, either."
"And…let me guess…you want to break up."
Rose nodded, relieved that she hadn’t had to say it herself. "Yes. I like you, Tim, I really do, but…"
"…but you’re ready to move on."
"Well…actually…no. I should never have gotten involved with you in the first place. There’s been…events…in my life that put a lot of pressure on me, and I jumped into our…relationship…without really thinking about the consequences. It was too soon, and we…we don’t really have much to build a relationship on. I mean…we’ve had some good times together, but there isn’t really any depth to what we have. I like working with you, but more than that…it was wrong of me to get involved, knowing that I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I never meant to."
Tim didn’t say anything for several minutes, but just stared at the road ahead of him, slowing as traffic became heavier near the Arizona-California border. Finally, he looked at her and spoke.
"I thought we had something good going."
"In some ways…it was. But in others…we were at odds too often, even at each other’s throats. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. We just weren’t meant to be together, at least not as anything more than business acquaintances—or maybe friends. But not more than that."
"So what do you want to do?"
"I want to keep singing with the band, performing wherever we can. That hasn’t changed. Music means a lot to me…and I would like to remain a part of Hard Times, but if it doesn’t work out…well…I guess we’ll think about that then. That is, if you still want me around. You are the one responsible for this band."
Tim pulled the van to a stop, waiting to go through the checkpoint. "I don’t know, Rose. I liked being with you. I really did. But if you think that the best thing to do is break things off, and try to work as professionals together…I guess we can try it. Whatever I feel, audiences love you. You have a great voice and can really get their attention, better than the rest of us. You might just be a star someday."
"Well, then…that’s it, I guess. Let’s not make too much of a fuss about it around everyone else…they’ll figure it out soon enough. It’s been fun, Tim…but we both need something else."
"Sure." He tried to sound cool and casual, but Rose knew that she had hurt him. She had never meant to, but some things just couldn’t be avoided. It was yet another lesson to be learned, and learned well.