Page 77 of In This Together

‘Hell, not me,’ Randy said, making her laugh again.

‘It’s nice,’ she said thoughtfully, chewing her food as she watched the silhouettes of Tim’s horses grazing in the nearby paddock.

It wasn’t long before Seth, Billy and Frankie turned up to join in the food. The guys brought out their guitars and Rosalie was, remarkably, having one of the best nights of her life, listening to Randy and Seth play ridiculous songs they’d made up as kids. Watching Billy and Frankie having a ‘play-off’ to decide who was best on the electric guitar, which didn’t work, since they were declared to both be incredible.

‘Not quite Jimi Hendrix, but good,’ Tim had said, offering a reigning endorsement that made Billy and Frankie huff and the others highly amused.

There were no bright lights, no shops. There was no fine dining or champagne. Yet her life felt as full as it ever had.

After a while, Tim and Billy declared their night (or rather morning) was over and took themselves to bed. Frankie and Randy, who had developed a fondness of each other, or perhaps it was a mutual appreciation of bottled beer, were standing inside, choosing LPs to play on the record player, the dulcet tones of Florida Georgia Line and Tim McGraw drifting out to the porch.

Seth sat up from where he had been lying back on the porch swing opposite the one on which Rosalie was sitting. He spread his long legs out in front of him and offered Rosalie that half-smile she was becoming quite fond of.

‘You look genuinely happy, Ros.’

‘I must look like a crazy lady, having let my hair dry naturally in this humidity.’

Seth smirked. ‘Admittedly, your hair appears to have a life of its own, but you look pretty. Don’t quote me on this, but you’re kind of beautiful, Rosalie.’

Usually, Rosalie was great at taking compliments. She lived for compliments. ButSeth,commenting on her au-naturel appearance; that made her blush.

‘Thank you.’ Clearing her throat, she said, ‘Since we’re complimenting each other, which is no doubt more beer talking than anything, you were great today, Seth. Beer or no beer. Listening to you is… I don’t have a word to describe it but you give me goosebumps.’

‘I scare you?’

She laughed and enjoyed the sound of Seth laughing with her.

‘Another beer?’ he asked, leaning from his seat into a coolbox.

‘No, thank you. A crate’s my limit.’

She enjoyed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle when he was amused.

When he came back to rest, Rosalie pulled her legs up to the swing seat and asked a question she was very curious about.

‘How come your dad is on his own?’

Seth picked at the label on his bottle as he told her, ‘Mom walked out when I was five. Never seen her since. He’s had relationships here and there but I don’t think he ever got over her breaking his heart.’

‘So he’s never really tried again?’

Seth exhaled slowly. ‘Have you ever had your heart broken, Ros? Truly?’

She thought about her answer, then confessed, ‘Probably not, in honesty.’

Seth nodded. ‘Well, it’s hard to let your guard down after you have.’

‘Is that why you haven’t?’

He smirked as he drank from his bottle. ‘Maybe. Or maybe I just haven’t found the right kind of girl.’

‘Do you believe that people can have a type? Like, no one could, you know, break the mould?’

‘I’d be open to being proved wrong but, yeah, I think there’s a type.’

‘But you could overlook someone who’s perfect for you because you’ve typecast them. Isn’t that a huge shame?’ As she thought that, Rosalie considered her baby daddies and the checklist she’d prepared. Wasn’t that exactly what she had done? Hadn’t she requested a type – suits and shiny shoes, well-paid, likes theatre and over-priced schools?

‘Come on then,’ Seth said. ‘Prove me wrong. Tell me what makes you different to theit girlstereotype.’

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