Roseanne took a shower, changed into loose sweatpants and a tight green v-neck top, leafed through the last three Sunday editions of the New York Times, considered cleaning her apartment, and finally headed upstairs to collect Rambo. She'd caught a couple hours' sleep between four and six that morning, and probably should have tried to get more, but she couldn't settle.
Jack answered her knock and regarded her with a faintly chiding expression. "You're early. You should be in bed."
"I slept last night. Where's the prince?"
As if knowing he'd been summoned, Rambo chuffed his way around the corner, his log-like body rolling from side to side on his stumpy legs. He carried his leash in his mouth, snorting with enthusiasm. Laughing, Roseanne hooked the lead to his collar.
"You want me to pick up anything for dinner?" Roseanne asked.
"If you've got plans tonight, I can leave you something downstairs in the kitchen," Jack said. "You don't need to spend Saturday night with an old man and a dog."
"No," Roseanne replied. "No plans. And I like having dinner with you, so stop trying to get rid of me."
"Pick me up some fresh arugula, then," Jack said with a shake of his head.
"You got it. Come on, Rambo, let's go shopping." Roseanne was grateful that Jack hadn't pushed. She knew he worried about her being alone and couldn't understand why she didn't. She loved Jack as much as anyone in her life, but she couldn't explain to him that being alone, even when loneliness sometimes plagued her, was a choice she'd made and she didn't regret the consequences.
Outside, she was greeted by the kind of early winter morning she loved. The sun shone brightly, contrasting dramatically with air so cold and crisp her skin tingled with the bite of it. Despite her fatigue, her pulse quickened and a bolt of restless energy shot through her. She walked Rambo to the riverfront park a few blocks away. From the jogging path at the water's edge, she could see the medical center rising above the other university buildings across the river, the main hospital buildings and sprawling annexes forming their own insular community.
She wondered if Lisa was there, at BamBam's bedside, or if she'd left for home. She thought about the woman she'd seen with Lisa the night before, the one who had touched Lisa with familiar ease. The woman Lisa said she would call this morning. Maybe they were together right now.
Rambo tugged at his leash, drawing her attention away from the hospital. Apparently, he was determined to get some precious object from under a wooden bench and all she could see was his rear end wiggling as he scrabbled for it.
"If you get stuck under there, buddy, we'll need a crane to get you out." Roseanne bent down and retrieved a soggy tennis ball for him, then resumed walking.
Wherever Lisa was, whoever she was with, was no concern of hers. Hell, that woman was probably just one of her girlfriends. She wondered how Lisa's girlfriends felt about her seeing other women. She'd never dated more than one person at once, or ever even dated someone who was seeing others. She thought about Irene, and Matt before her, and—God, was it really going back over two years?—Suzy. They'd all been bright, interesting, attractive, and she enjoyed their company. She didn't feel the slightest bit of jealousy when she considered they might have been seeing other people while dating her. In fact, she'd rarely thought about them between dates. When she was with them, she had a good time. When the interludes ended, she'd gone back to her life with something close to relief.
She sat on a bench and stretched her legs out in front of her, Rambo's leash wrapped around her right wrist, her hands in the pockets of her pants. She studied the toes of her brown leather boots. Mary Ann Cipriani, an enthusiastically straight woman, thought Lisa was worth a night on the other team. The woman in the unit thought nothing of touching her in a proprietary way. Hell, even her male partner apparently had a crush on her. Who needed a woman who ignited the libido of anyone in sight?
