LOVE IS MORE THAN A FEELING
Chapter Twenty-Five
At first, Rose was thrilled to have Tommy and
Fabrizio staying with them, but after a few days she began to regret agreeing
to the arrangement. Between Jack, his friends, and the baby, she found that she
had far too much work to do. The men ate an incredible amount of food, tracked
dirt on her clean floors, and talked loudly, waking the baby.
It irritated her, but instead of complaining,
or asking for help, Rose just sulked about the situation. Finally, after
breakfast one morning, she looked at the huge pile of dishes waiting to be
washed and blew up.
"You and your friends are pigs, you know
that?" she snapped at Jack, who was the last one to leave for work. Tommy and
Fabrizio had found farm jobs, and left much earlier, but Jack didn’t leave
until around 7:30 AM.
"What are you talking about?" Jack
asked her, mystified as to why she was suddenly so upset. His first thought was
that she must be tired, after getting up several times during the night to tend
to Elisa. But her words soon changed his mind.
"Look at this—look at all these dishes I
have to wash! I do your cooking, too! And look over there. Mud on my freshly
scrubbed floor. Couldn’t you at least wipe your feet before coming in? Oh, and
don’t get me started about the way you talk. You sound like you’re trying to
let the whole county know what you’re saying. Then Elisa wakes up and cries,
and guess who gets to comfort her? Not you or your friends!"
"Why didn’t you say something before?
Tommy and Fabrizio have been here for several days. You should have said
something."
"I should have said something? You
should have noticed!"
"How am I supposed to notice that
there’s a problem if you don’t say anything?"
"Oh, like it isn’t obvious. There’s dirt
on the floor, and your daughter wakes up crying at all the noise."
"Excuse me. I never paid
attention to the floor. It looked fine to me. And babies are always
crying." His voice was growing loud. "If you’ve been finding it so
much trouble, why didn’t you ask us to be quiet, or to help cook and clean? We
all know how."
"I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t have
helped. You’re too busy with your friends. I wish we hadn’t asked them to
stay!" Inside, Rose knew that Jack, Fabrizio, and Tommy probably would
help if she asked, but she was too angry to care.
"Rose..." Jack said her name
warningly.
"Don’t talk to me that way, Jack. You
should have known that I can’t cook and clean for all of you. And don’t even
try to help. You’d probably make a bigger mess of things than they already
are."
Jack looked at her angrily. "You don’t
want my help? Fine. I won’t help you. I’ll just let you keep doing everything
yourself. Don’t complain to me about having too much to do. You brought it on
yourself." He stalked away, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" Rose
demanded.
"Work. Or don’t you want to have a house
to live in?" He stomped out the front door, slamming it behind him.
From upstairs, there came a wail. The noise
had awakened Elisa. Rose hurried upstairs, to see her daughter lying in her
cradle, wailing and kicking her legs furiously.
"I’m sorry, Elisa," she murmured,
picking the baby up and patting her back soothingly.
Elisa continued to wail. Finally, Rose
carried her downstairs, settling onto the couch and rocking her until she
calmed and went back to sleep.
Now that she had a chance to think about it,
Rose was sorry that she’d yelled at Jack the way she had. He hadn’t done
anything to deserve it. To be sure, he and his friends could be slobs, but they
weren’t that bad. She was just tired of cooking for them and cleaning up after
them. She should have accepted Jack’s offer of help, but she’d been too angry
to think clearly.
Sighing, she leaned back against the couch,
cradling the sleeping baby. She would have to find a way to work things out
with Jack when he came home from work—if he wanted to work things out. She had
really blown up at him, and she wouldn’t blame him a bit for still being angry
with her later.
Rose’s thoughts were interrupted by a sound
from inside the house. Looking up, she frowned, wondering if one of their
guests had come home early, or if Jack had decided to talk to her before he
went to work.
"Tommy? Fabrizio? Are you home?"
No response.
"Jack? Is that you?" Was he home
again? It didn’t seem likely. "Jack?"
More footsteps. A chill ran down Rose’s
spine. Jack would have answered her. So would Fabrizio and Tommy.
"Who’s there?" she demanded,
starting to get up off the couch.
The source of the footsteps appeared,
blocking the doorway to the room. It wasn’t Jack.
It was Cal.