“Right.” Libby rolled her eyes. “Kerrielynn did.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, Rosemary? Really? Your whole life, you’ve been bragging, over and over, about how you’ve got ‘important work’ to do.” She used air quotes aroundimportant work. “How you couldn’t wait to leave Honey. Yet here you are.”
“I never said I couldn’t wait to leave Honey.” She frowned. She’d never wanted toleaveHoney. She’d thought she had to.
“Whatever. Why are you sticking around?” Libby brushed her hair from her shoulder, her features smoothing. “Is it because Everett has a chance to be happy—and it doesn’t center around you? You can’t stand that, can you? That he could be happy without you.”
She swallowed hard. “Libby... I want Everett to be happy.”
“Then leave.” She stood. “If you really mean that, you’ll go. You come home, and his family and friends are on him to pick you, woo you,alwaysyou... Even if it’s not what he wants. You put a lot of pressure on him, whether you mean to or not.” Her blue eyes swept over her face. “Do you know what he wants? I bet you haven’t even asked him. And you’re supposed to be his best friend.”
Yes, she knew what he wanted. To be friends, only. Not that she’d ever tell Libby as much. Where was this hostility coming from? Rosemary paused, scrambling for something coherent to say.
“My whole life, no one has ever measured up to you and your sisters. The Bee Girls. The good girls. The perfect Hill family and their precious bees.” She broke off, her voice turning brittle. When she spoke again, she was calm. “Could it be that, outside of Honey, you’re not everyone’s darling? That you need to make sure you’ve got an adoring fan club, so that when you leave, you know you’ll be missed?” Her tone was deceptively soft as she continued, “You’re selfish. Before you go making more decisions that affect the people who love you, you should make sure it’s what’s right for everyone. Your sisters and aunts haven’t been sitting around pining for the day you’d come home. They’ve been doing and living. I’m sure you were missed, but they were all fine without you, Rosemary. No, they were all happy. Everett was, too. Think about that.”
Rosemary was stunned into silence.
“Now...” Libby shook her head and headed back around her desk. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my work. Not important work, like yours, but work nonetheless.”
“Libby... I don’t know what happened to make you dislike me so much, but...if I did something to you to make you feel lesser or slighted or insignificant, I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “That’s a horrible feeling. I’d never intentionally try to hurt or demean you or anyone.”
Libby’s hand froze, the phone halfway to her ear. “You couldn’t make me feel any of those things.” But there wasn’t the same bite to her words.
“Then maybe it’s time you find someone else to bully? Or better yet, stop. There’s no point in holding on to such...such anger all the time. We’re not in high school anymore, Libby. You’re an adult. You can be happy. I don’t know why you’re still trying to hurt me, but it won’t work now.” She kept her voice low and even, refusing to reveal just how hard she was fighting against her anxiety. “I mean it when I say... I wish you well.”
For a split second, maybe two, Libby was shocked speechless. “Whatever. Stop wasting my time,” she snapped, dialing the phone and turning away from her. “It’s me. I told you’d I’d call you back.” She glared at Rosemary. “She’s gone. We’re free to talk.”
Rosemary backed out of the room, the office door closing so loudly it echoed up and down the empty hallway. She hurried, all but running from the building, down the steps, and to the Honey Hill Farms van parked in the staff parking lot around back. She put the key in the ignition and started the van—but she was shaking too hard to drive. Instead, she gripped the steering wheel and burst into tears.
She’d done it—tried to breech the gap between her and Libby. It hadn’t been successful, but at least she could say she tried. Rosemary had grown and changed, but Libby seemed stuck in time—as petty and hateful as ever. Chances were she’d never figure out why Libby hated her, but it didn’t matter. Rosemary wasn’t going to let any of the nastiness Libby had hurled her way get to her.
Everett wasn’t involved with her. He never would be.
She didn’t need praise or a fan club or attention—that had never been what drove her. Making a difference did.
And even though Libby would be all too happy for her to leave town, she knew her family and friends wouldn’t be.
She wiped at her tears with the back of her hands and took a deep breath. Poppa Tom had once said the Owens girls were hard-hearted because they had to be. But try as she might, she couldn’t dig up sympathy for Libby. Kindness was a choice. Libby had never shown her kindness. Instead, she’d continually zeroed in on Rosemary’s insecurities and exploited them. Like her shyness. Her “freakish” intellect. And her friendship with Everett.
Jenny and Gramma Dot were right—Libby must want Everett for herself and thought of Rosemary as competition. Considering Everett wanted to keep things status quo between them, Libby had no reason to feel threatened. Not that Everett would date someone like Libby. He wouldn’t. Rosemary knew that.
By the time she parked the van behind the honey house, she was calm. Exhausted but calm. She opened the driver’s door of the van and slipped out, unsteady on her feet. She leaned against the side and closed her eyes, sucking in deep breaths while trying to hold her tears at bay.
There was a chill in the air, enough to prick up the hair along her arms and the back of her neck. The faint coo of a dove echoed in some far-off pasture. The crickets were warming up for their evening serenade. But it was the faint buzz in the air that chased away the remaining ick from her run-in with Libby.
Honey would always draw bees, and there was always honey in the honey house. Frames heavy with honey, frames waiting to be stored for later use, or the large metal extractors or tools dotted with sticky golden beads of honey the bees were happily collecting. She opened her eyes, letting her vision adjust to the growing dark.
A bee’s life was simple. Bees did what needed to be done to take care of one another, to protect their hive, and never give up.Humans could learn a lot from bees.
“I’m not going to give up, either,” she murmured, walking along the path that led to the house. From now on, she wasn’t going to let Libby get into her head. Today, the tide had turned, and there was no going back. And it felt good.
The kitchen was crowded: her sisters and aunts, Shelby and Bea, and Van and Roman.
“Rosemary. There’s a plate for you in the microwave.” Aunt Camellia was slicing into her triple-layer honey butter cake. “But you can have dessert first, if you like.”
“Dessert first?” Tansy looked up from the puzzle covering the kitchen table. “That’s not fair.” Her eldest sister’s gaze met hers. “Rose?”
Astrid’s mossy green eyes found her. “Rosemary...what’s wrong?”
Her sisters hurried around the table.
