To her and Erin, home was a brownstone in an influential neighborhood in Chicago; not too rich but definitely rooted in middle class-hood.
It was three stories, with tumbles of red and white roses that lined the front of the house, in the tiny boxed-in yard.
She entered in quietly, hoping that she wouldn’t disturb Erin when she entered.
Which was a massive failure.
“Have fun?” Erin teased her as she crossed the hall from the living room to the kitchen.
“Shut up, Erin,” Roanna teased back as she joined her at the counter, sitting on one of the uncomfortable stools as she poured herself a bowl of cereal.
“Just get up?” Roanna asked Erin, looking at her unusual awareness.
“No, just going to bed,” she said with a laugh.
Roanna froze, not sure what to do.
“As in … you just got home? From a … person’s house?” Roanna wheezed.
“Jeez, Roanna, breathe! I fell asleep on the couch watching a Saving Grace marathon on TV a few hours ago,” Erin laughed at her.
Roanna was grateful for it. She took Erin’s advice, and took a deep breath.
“You looked like you were having a heart attack! Are you okay?” Erin asked between deep belly laughs.
“I’m fine; just…traumatized,” Roanna said, slamming her chest in an effort to force out the deep unabiding clogs in her chest and throat.
“That was hilarious,” Erin laughed again.
“I’m going to bed. Finish this for me,” Roanna said, pushing her untouched cereal towards Erin, who could chow down two whole pizzas and never gain an ounce.
“Okay, lovebird!” she called up the stairs with a laugh.
Roanna flipped her-the non love bird with rigid fingers.
She took a long, hot shower; unwillingly reliving each and every memory of that night; of Jack.
She shook her head at how ridiculous she was being and stepped out of the shower, mentally reciting to herself all the reasons she could never see him again.
She didn’t have room for another person in her life; she was already taking chances with the people she cared for.
She got out of the shower, and wrapped up in a robe.
She went to lock her door and gave a frustrated sigh when her cell phone rang.
“What?” she snapped into the phone.
“Hello, Ms. Davencourt.” Brianna’s voice rang over the line.
“Ms. Brennan.” Roanna tried very hard not to sound irritable.
“Please, Roanna, call me Brianna,” she said, and Roanna had to grit her teeth against the irritation.
“Ms. Brennan, is there a reason you’re calling me at almost seven in the morning?” Roanna gave up on the nice persona; it wasn’t her thing.
“I called to tell you that we have a few more people joining us on our trip, so you can order the right number of tickets.” She said.
Roanna moved across the room to the small table and picked up a pad and paper.
“Shoot.”
“It’s going to be you, Erin, me, my bodyguard Claude and my brother, Jackson. If it’s all right, my ex-stepmother will be coming with us for part of the trip, but she’s staying in Macapa.” She gave the first names, and then rattled off the last names.
