Page 31 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“Oh-kay-uh,” Daisy says, her accent turning the word into a drawn-out, three-syllable word. “Whatwas that about?”

I look at her. “What was what about?”

She presses her index fingers to her temples, like she’s seeing into the future. “I am sensing... a lot of tension. The romantic kind.” She flutters her eyelashes.

My laugh is nervous. “What?” I’m usually better at hiding my feelings. It’s like this place—or that man—has cast a spell on me, one that makes me super obvious and plows right through all my defenses.

“You and Booker Hayes.” She places a hand on my shoulder, as if I’m headed off to war. “Many have tried. Many have failed. Best of luck to ya.” She slaps my shoulder once. “But if you’re breaking down that wall, I want a front-row seat.”

I don’t tell her the price I would have to pay to break down that wall. But I do remind myself because I’m in great danger of forgetting.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say more firmly than I feel. “I just met the guy. He’s... fine. We’re fine. It’s fine.”

“Fine,fine. I can take a hint.” She laughs. “My last roommate was the arts and crafts leader. She never talked. She knitted a lot and made these tiny fuzzy animals out of yarn.” Her accent makes that last bit sound like three questions.“She knitted a lot? And made these tiny fuzzy animals? Out of yarn?”

“She also had a whole book about crafting with cat hair, so you know,thatwas gross.” She shuts the front door. “I’m all for hobbies, but most of the time, I felt like I was just walking around the house talking to myself.” She looks at me. “I can show you all the ways to get out of wearing the hideous uniforms.” She shimmies her shoulders. “Dress-up days go overreallywell here. Or you canjust find creative ways to hide from Connie.” She laughs. “It’ll be nice to have a friend!”

I think of my friends back home with a strange ache I haven’t felt in years. I promised them I would be better about staying in touch, and I’m going to keep that promise.

I’d convinced myself I don’t need people—but my trip home showed me how much I miss being a part of something.

Acommunity.

Would I find that here?

I follow Daisy through the cottage and find myself standing in a small hallway.

Daisy points to the left. “Bedrooms are down the hall here. We do have to share a bathroom, but I promise I’m not too messy. My hair does get in the drain, but when it’s clogged, we get to call Booker, so it’s really a pro and not a con.” She grins as she leads me down the hall and past the bathroom, stopping in front of a door. “This is you.”

I flip the light on and walk inside the room.

“There’s a door here that opens to the outside.” She moves across the room to show me. “Which is why I’m not in this room, even though it’s a little bigger than mine. I watch a lot of scary movies.”

“So if someone breaks in, you want them to kill me first,” I muse aloud.

She scrunches her nose. “Pretty much.”

I look around the room. My suitcase is at the end of a metal-framed double bed, as if it appeared by some strange Disney World–type magic. The dark hardwood floors perfectly complement the white shiplap walls, and even though it’s bare, it’s got a homey feel.

In two seconds, this nearly empty bedroom in the middle of Wisconsin feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever been since I was six.

Definitely more like home than my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. That always felt like a place to crash.

Never like home.

I tell myself not to get too attached to any of this because it’s a short-term arrangement, but when I open the door out to the patio, I realize that’s going to be harder than I thought. The patio itself is small but sweet, and beyond that, there’s a slice of the golf course backed by big beautiful trees.

It’s stunning.

Despite being in this little pocket neighborhood, it feels quaint and private back here.

“Do you like it?” Daisy asks from her spot in the doorway.

“Are you kidding?” I turn toward her. “This room is bigger than my entire apartment in Brooklyn.”

She frowns. “Wow. Really?”

“Real estate is at a premium there,” I say. “I had three roommates, so this place makes me feel like I’m living in a palace.” And the whole idea of actualalone timehas me feeling giddy. I was never alone in my apartment. Someone was always home, and we were just piled on top of each other so tightly it was hard to breathe. Worse, the people I lived with weren’t my friends.

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