Roost

By Jasmine Winterson

Four urban refugees move west, haunted by echoes of a tangled conspiracy. Colorado’s Western Slope and the fertile beauty of the Grand Valley beckon with the promise of new beginnings.

As the women seek to find their place in this seeming paradise, partnership with gutsy local Anna Garcia opens their eyes to an unsettled region torn by natural resource and labor wars.

For the men, a mountain biking trip with Olympian Derek Draben transforms their plans into a much broader vision of glory.

Time passes ... relationships grow ... until a chance meeting in the desert reminds everyone that the past lives on ... and does not forget.

A story of struggle, intrigue and redemption, Roost is Jasmine Winterson’s second novel. It is a compelling journey through the landscapes of the human experience and the American West.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jasmine Winterson
• Release date: Sep 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476400167

Jasmine Winterson

Jasmine Winterson was born in London, England. The author of several novels, she now lives in Charlottesville, Virginia. Her Uncertain Ground series follows the lives of Anna Garcia and her friends as they struggle to make sense of criminal worlds, shifting alliances, and faceless bureaucracies, facing down long odds.Roost explores the journey westward of four urban refugees. Colorado’s Western Slope and the fertile beauty of the Grand Valley beckon with the promise of new beginnings. Time passes ... relationships grow ... until a chance meeting in the desert reminds everyone that the past lives on ... and does not forget.Power Play roams from Alaska’s North Slope to Brazil’s urban slums. We live our lives. We follow the rules. We die. What if things could be different? Imagine a world without limits. A world with a brighter future for everyone. What price would you be willing to pay? Webs of murder, jealousy and revenge threaten to rip apart families and destroy entire communities. Secrets may offer the only path to salvation. No one said change was easy.

Book preview

Roost

By Jasmine Winterson

Copyright 2012 Jasmine Winterson

All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, or otherwise – without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Books by Jasmine Winterson

Climbing to Freedom

The Uncertain Ground Series

Roost

Power Play

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Cover design services provided by Julie Cornia (Black Dog Design LLC)

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Praise for Jasmine Winterson’s novel Roost

Winterson's novel is swiftly paced and engaging thanks to the intriguing mystery at its core ... this is enjoyable fiction that offers a fascinating view into life in rural Colorado. – Publishers Weekly

A strong second novel by Ms. Winterson! – Bibliophilic Book Blog

An easy, fun and exciting read. It made my heart race. – Interested in All Blog

I've never been to Colorado ... I felt like I was there experiencing the natural beauty of Grand Valley ... I plan to check out the other book in the series. – I Feel So Unnecessary Blog

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Welcome to the Uncertain Ground series!

If you enjoy Roost, make sure to check out Power Play:

We live our lives. We follow the rules. We die.

What if things could be different? Imagine a world without limits. A world with a brighter future for everyone. What price would you be willing to pay?

Power Play roams from Alaska’s North Slope to Brazil’s urban slums. Webs of murder, jealousy and revenge threaten to rip apart families and destroy entire communities. Secrets may offer the only path to salvation.

No one said change was easy.

A preview chapter is included at the end of this ebook.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 ~ Falling Flat

Chapter 2 ~ Branching Out

Chapter 3 ~ Getting Dirty

Chapter 4 ~ Ground Truthing

Chapter 5 ~ Sending Signals

Chapter 6 ~ Working It

Chapter 7 ~ Struggling

Chapter 8 ~ Kicking It Upstairs

Chapter 9 ~ Keeping Warm

Chapter 10 ~ Change of Plans

Chapter 11 ~ Counting It Down

Chapter 12 ~ A Blast from the Past

Chapter 13 ~ Roost

Chapter 14 ~ Loose Ends

Part I

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Chapter 1 ~ Falling Flat

She had seen some crusty old-timers get hopping mad, all bloodshot eyes and fists clenched after nights of fruitless coyote hunting or peeling rubber after rustlers cannon-balling through Grand Valley. She’d seen others pull compassion out of a hat during drought, giving away the last of a poor harvest to families in need. Unpredictable as a rule – it was a crapshoot at best figuring out whether kindness, the back hand of Old Testament justice, or occasionally both was waiting – the old-timers did have one thing in common. They could all spot bullshit before it drove over the horizon.

Young lady, if I had the time and inclination, I could set you straight on a few things, she heard him say, leathery hands on his hips, his blue eyes hard as flint. There had been no need to wind down the window and catch his words when he finally fastened on to them. Still, she had nothing better to do. Anna felt a little sorry for her new employer. She couldn’t fault the earnestness or desire to save the world. Problem was, this part of the world didn’t need saving. If brushfires were raging, the earth opened up and a plague or two swept through, Mac Birnum still would not be looking for help. I offered to talk to him for you.

You’ve come out a good ways and I appreciate that, he continued. I’m old fashioned. Been taking my livestock to market since before you were born. Since before your parents were born, for that matter. I do not require your services. 

Finally … the slam, Anna thought. He took his sweet time working around to it. Katherine’s shoulders were slumped, her ponytail fraying as she walked back to the pickup. Anna had made sure she was driving – no need to die in a fiery wreck to end the day. She watched as her boss walked around to the passenger side. The door heaved open with its usual tired sigh and she stepped up into the cab.

That was a complete success. Her voice flat, Katherine tossed her clipboard onto the floor and stretched out her long, limber frame. In the right clothes, she could pass for a ranch hand. She just needed to lose the clipboard … and the back east attitude, Anna thought. Scuff up some boots and denim. Start listening instead of talking her way into dead ends.  

The engine coughed to life as Anna turned the key. They bounced and jolted down the rutted farm road, the truck’s ailing blue exhaust trailing behind them. Unsure ground here, Anna thought. Should I say something? Mac and I go back a ways. It was her first full week on the job. She wasn’t looking for it to be the last.

She pointed the truck south on the state road, driving against the steady flow of afternoon traffic chugging out of Grand Junction. Now isn’t the time or place. Her boss was staring out at the fields and farms flying past, her brow furrowed. Flying Turtle Dairy. Swan Song Farm. Kettle Orchards. Westbrook Nurseries.

When Katherine reached for the phone resting on the truck’s dashboard, Anna knew who she was calling. Whoever said no news is good news, she thought, didn’t know what they were talking about.

Hey Jacks, Katherine said after a moment. We’re heading back. No dice with Birnum. She traced patterns on the window glass with her fingers as she spoke. There was no doubt – it was a striking landscape. Anna could almost read her mind. The fertile green fields. The small working farms. The desert rock of the Bookcliffs and the Grand Mesa in the distance. It seemed like a little slice of Eden, tucked away on the Western Slope. After several decades, Anna’s eyes read the landscape differently.

No luck there, either, Katherine was saying, her voice low and strained. We’re not making any headway.

Anna tried hard to focus on driving. Don’t get involved. She turned left on Route 50 at the light in Loma, leaving the farm fields behind. She thought ahead to the evening. Pick up Paul from Francine’s. Fix dinner. Spend a few minutes at the table. Make sure he was doing his homework. Get to class. Head home. Pay the babysitter. Go to bed. Start all over again. She felt tired just thinking about it. That was why this had to be a straight shot, nine to five, answering phones and running errands. In and out. The last thing she needed was a job like her last one, or the ones before that. But I still need to know what they’re thinking, she thought. It couldn’t hurt to listen in. Her fingers relaxed on the steering wheel.

They’re just not getting it, her boss was saying. You’d think they’d be lining up. If I was a farmer in the valley, I’d be looking for better ways to reach my customers. Her tone had changed from frustration to exasperation and was headed for rightful indignation. She was singing to the choir now.

I know. Katherine responded after a pause, jabbing a finger sharply in the air in front of her as she spoke. Exactly, that’s what I mean. The choir was clearly swelling on the other end of the line as well.

We’re not going anywhere. The Grand Valley Farm Connection is here to stay, Katherine said a few moments later. It was the crescendo, sure to be followed by applause.

But … something different was happening. There was more quiet discussion and then her boss turned in her direction, muting the phone with her hand. What was your last job again, Anna? she asked. Before this?

An organizer, for the Colorado Migrant Worker Coalition. Anna replied. Her body tensed. The job had been rewarding. And worn her out completely.

After that, for several miles, there was little that Anna could make out in their conversation. Katherine mmh-hmmed several times. Once she said, You’re right, Jacks, she might be ... In ways we hadn’t ... More mmh-hmms followed. 

Uh-oh. Anna’s fingers resumed drumming on the steering wheel. Where was this heading, she wondered. It didn’t sound good. She listened closely for any other tidbits. Her fingers drummed faster on the steering wheel, switching from a U2 anthem to Pearl Jam. They shot through Fruita and hit the I-70 business loop in record time. She accelerated west on North Avenue, moments from the office. What were they brewing up?

A few seconds later, about the same time that Katherine looked over in mild concern at the speedometer, Anna saw flashing lights in the rear-view mirror. She downshifted and slowly pulled into a restaurant parking lot.

What a crap sandwich.

Sorry, Katherine. Anna gestured over her shoulder in answer to raised eyebrows from her boss. They watched the approaching lawman through the truck’s rear window.

Katherine snapped her phone shut. No worries, she replied. It’s the perfect end to a perfect day. 

No worries? Whatever her boss said would freak her out, Anna realized. Angry response = job in jeopardy. Casual response = something larger afoot. Either way, she had to deal with the man wearing a state trooper’s hat and metallic sunglasses outside her pickup door. She dug for her license and rolled down her window.

I wouldn’t have thought a ‘70s F-Series Supercab could haul ass like that. He leaned in, nodding at her passenger.

I’m sorry, sir?

Your pickup, ma’am. I thought I recognized you. Thought I could do you a favor before you blew by the trap several blocks down.

Recognition dawned and her face flushed scarlet red. Rafael, that’s you behind those shades? Anna couldn’t help laughing. She smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand in delight. She hadn’t seen her downstairs neighbor in uniform. She might perhaps have noticed, in passing once or twice, that he was a good-looking guy, parking his vintage Honda Hurricane or out taking a walk. They chitchatted sometimes at the apartment pool.

 I’m going to let you go with a warning this time, Ms. Garcia. I suggest you get your vehicle checked out. It shouldn’t be able to move like that.

Thank you, officer. I mean, Rafael. I mean, you know what I mean. Sir. Tongue-tied. Great. Apart from family and Tariq – who was more of a walking curse than a man – she hadn’t spared a thought for a male of the species in months. 

Have a good day now.

You’ve made that possible. She tried out a sultry tone, batted her eyelids, experimented with lightly tossing her sandy brown hair so that it cascaded across her shoulders. If her neighbor slash stud cop noticed, he showed no sign. He turned and walked back to his bike. She wound up her window, slid her license back in her pocket. Making a living as a tired caricature in someone’s romance novel didn’t appeal much anyway, she decided.

Anna pulled the truck back out into traffic. Do you know everyone in town, or am I just catching you on a statistically remarkable day? her boss asked.

Anna smiled and tried to remain calm. I just need to make it back to the office without Katherine springing some half-baked idea on me, she thought. She and Mac Birnum had a history, it was true. She’d grown up sweating in those Arcadian fields that Katherine and her partner kept going on about. She knew most folks along that entire road, all the way up to Rangely. She knew most farmers in the western part of the state, for that matter. She and Rafael meeting up, though, was just coincidence. One she could get used to.

How are your boyfriend’s plans for the bike store working out? she asked. It was a desperate, in-your-face attempt at distraction. Her boss looked worryingly like she was mulling something over once again. Whatever Katherine and her partner – her bosses, Anna had to remind herself – had been talking about earlier, it involved her. It sounded like they were thinking about rapidly expanding her job description.

Silence. No nibble on that line. Time to bait some other hooks and keep fishing. Start innocent – favorite movie stars, weekend plans. Then, go for what she had been wanting to ask since day one. Why did four people decide, out of the blue, to move to Grand freakin’ Junction, Colorado?

She didn’t get a chance. Jam band noise blasting from a tailgating jeep trailed them for several blocks, wiping out the possibility of conversation as well as basic thought processes. In no time, they were pulling up out front of the offices of the Grand Valley Farm Connection. There was the garish green and white barn-and-farm logo on the front door, the outrageously chipper tag line – We Bring Food and People Together in All Weather – clashing with the dull brick of the converted medical office building. They worked out of a former dentist’s office on the first floor.

Almost home. Keep it casual.

Katherine tugged on the door handle and stepped out of the truck. She poked her head back in the truck, beaming.

Anna, Jackie and I would like to bring you on as a partner, she said. Frankly, I’m not sure how we’re going to get this thing off the ground without you.

Wha – Anna’s heart sank.

Let’s talk more tomorrow. I know you’ve got to get home. Say hi to Paul. And thanks for driving. Katherine fluttered a quick wave and closed the door.

Damn. Anna threw up her hands in frustration. She sat there, waiting for the universe to step in and somehow rewind and fix the end of their conversation. No dice, indeed. She reluctantly shifted the truck into gear and pulled away. Her boss had played her perfectly. I knew I should have moved to Albuquerque.

Stepping inside the door, Katherine looked around at the old waiting room and sighed. Worn red carpet underfoot. The once-white walls were turning gray and brown with dirt and dust. A tapestry from the previous tenant hung on the far wall. Circus animals were marching along a mountainside. They were headed for some kind of temple in the distance. Or maybe it was a volcano. They looked happy enough in their travels, but they had a long way to go. 

Jackie popped up suddenly and leaned out the old receptionist’s window. And how can we help you today, madam? she asked, feigning deep interest in her imaginary patient’s dental future. A cleaning? No, wait … a root canal?

It felt like I had one with Mac Birnum today, Katherine replied, walking across the room to join her friend. I was pulling teeth all afternoon. She cast a weary eye over the rest of the office. No sign of the men having been there. Not sure I need to see them right now. There were three rooms in the back. Whoever had up and pulled out of Dodge before they leased the place had been in a strange, partial kind of hurry. The back room – now their all-in-one kitchen, photocopying and storage area – had been cleared out completely. The middle room still had the red padded swivel chair in place, awaiting its next victim. The room on the right retained its blinding overhead dental lamp. A shoulder-height beige file cabinet full of Entertainment Weeklies and People magazines stood in one corner. A wire mesh trash can stuffed with puffy animal stickers and soft, palm-sized baseballs and basketballs was in the other.

Ry and Cobie had moved their stuff in there. Not that it amounted to much more than a desk with piles of bike magazines, a beat-up television, and a video game console. Their office did have one unique feature – a window, looking out over an empty parking lot and yet more abandoned office space. The downtown hospital had moved south of the river, to Orchard Mesa. Katherine had seen the commercials and breathless coverage. Lots of burnished wood and slate flooring. Beautifully lit hallways leading to beautiful diagnoses. A news segment showing what had been left behind, she thought, now that might make some real news.

What a day, she muttered. Working hard and getting nowhere fast. It had started with a call from her dad. The basics: long-lost wife and mother returning from arctic research station, seeking long-abandoned ex-husband for dinner and companionship. Offer accepted. Visit to daughter in Colorado postponed. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

I understand, dad, of course I do. Katherine had done her best to mask her feelings. Her mother was completely unworthy of the hope and excitement in his voice. Really, it’s not a problem. Let me know when you have new dates for flying out.

The outcome, she knew, was guaranteed – her dad would be out to visit with his heart in a sling and her mother would be back on a boat to study more polar bears.

She tossed her keys and phone and bag down on an empty part of the speckled pressboard countertop that wrapped around the reception area. Most of the desk space was already covered with Jackie’s signature flood of papers, post-its, paper clips, and the occasional unfinished, half-buried snack.

Looks like you need to take a load off, Jackie said, reaching for a pile of paper near the phone. Pull up a chair, hoss.

Wow, Jacks. Hoss? Katherine gave herself a mock once-over before sitting down. You really know how to make a girl feel special.

The lingo might need a little work, Jackie replied, slipping her ever-wayward bangs behind her ears. Maybe just a little. Jackie had committed early on to working on her western ways. It seemed to Katherine like she cooked enchiladas verdes every other night. She wore denim as if it was manufactured fresh daily in her living room and had more plaid long-sleeve western shirts than Annie Oakley, if Annie Oakley could have shopped at Miller’s Western Wear.

Did you hear from Ry? Jackie asked. She finished shuffling another pile of papers into something resembling order.

Nothing. Katherine rolled her eyes in mild exasperation. They had been gone ten days. Heard from my dad, though. He’s not coming on Saturday. Mom’s back on the scene.

"Your mom? Wow, Katherine. It’s been what, a decade? At least?" Jackie asked.

She nodded. The forecast calls for pain. 

I swear, my parents stopped speaking to each other the moment the ink dried on the divorce papers, Jackie said. You and I, we’ve got to make sure we never get on either of those merry-go-rounds.

You know something crazy? I don’t think my mom and dad ever actually got divorced, Katherine said. They’ve just been separated forever. Hearing her own words made her cringe. Like I’m one to talk about relationship stuff being black and white, she thought. I don’t know where Ry and I are in the fairgrounds at the moment. I’m still pulling myself out of the dunk tank.

That’s incredible! Jackie exclaimed. I had no idea … I’ve got to get you drunk sometime and hear all about it.

Katherine smiled. Yeah, and you can finally tell me about that tattoo.

Jackie blushed a deep red. Deal … I think, anyway, she replied. Oh hey, before I forget, Ry left us a message. She reached for the answering machine. After the beep, Ry’s rich tenor boomed across the office. Hey ladies, he said, Hope all is well. Cobie and I are back from Utah. Well, kind of. We’re in Cortez. Everything is going well, so we’ll be a few more days. We’ve met some amazing people. And Cobie taco’d a wheel in Moab. See you soon. 

I swear, pretty soon I’m going to need a dictionary to follow the bike speak, Jackie said.

Katherine didn’t respond – her mind had taken off down a different path, only too happy to leave thoughts of Ry and her parents behind. Jacks, where is Cortez? she asked. Is that in New Mexico? She remembered the name from long ago history classes. A Spanish explorer perhaps, consumed by ambition and looking for streets paved with gold, as usual. The description reminded her of someone in her own past.

 It’s in the southwest part of the state, near Four Corners, Jackie replied. Mesa Verde Country. Another mountain biking mecca.

Sure seems like there’s no shortage of places to worship bikes out here.

Right? Their research rolls on.

The research. Katherine smiled wryly at the term of art. She and Jackie had the pleasure of paying for oh-so thrilling market research and finding refrigerated storage space and leasing delivery trucks to open shop. Ry and Cobie dusted off their mountain bikes and took a plunge down another gully and tore through more scrub brush to refine their business plan. 

Hey, changing subjects yet again, Jackie said, how’d it go with Anna? Her question brought Katherine back from unfolding visions of flying wheels and mesa-top views.

We may have stunned her into it. Katherine tugged out her hair band and ran her hands through her dry, dusty hair. I shared our idea as I stepped out of the truck. She had no chance to respond.

Nice. Jackie reached for another stack of papers. I didn’t know what you were going to say on the phone. I was afraid you’d think I was crazy. 

Katherine shrugged. I’m done ranting about how the world should work. She looked up at the cracked ceiling tiles. This is clearly not working. Time to try something new. Her voice trailed off.  

You’re not sold on Anna as the answer? Jackie twirled a pen gingerly in her right hand. Horseback riding lessons had rubbed her palms raw.

I’m not sure if there is an answer, Katherine thought. I like your hunch, Jacks, she replied. She sure knows people here. But has our greatest asset been hiding in plain sight since last week? I don’t know.

I think she might be special. We just need to be careful.

Careful?

She’s got history here. Good and bad. Jackie’s pen started to move more rapidly, swirling emphatically through the air. Remember how badly we wanted out of Washington? How we felt we were trapped in a dead end?   

Katherine flinched. I locked that door and threw away the key. I guess. What’s the connection?

She’s trying to move on. Jackie put down the pen and looked directly at her. Like we are.

 Where was that on her resume? Katherine asked, her face clouding over. I thought she was a working mom taking night classes at the local community college. Her tone surprised both of them.

Katherine, all I’m saying is –

Point taken, Jacks. Her voice was low and hard. Anna is looking for a fresh start. And if we don’t handle it right, she might move on. Does that about cover it? She couldn’t stop the words from pouring out.  

That’s about the size of it. Jackie’s response was a whisper.

I’m with you. Just please don’t make that comparison. Katherine looked down. Her hands were shaking. She could feel her pulse surging. Ry was the one who kicked the door open. Jacks has no idea. A panic attack, she realized. That’s what this is. I’m not angry. I’m terrified. She bent over, closed her eyes, and focused on breathing. In and out. Steady.

When she opened her eyes, Jackie was gently rubbing her back. I’m sorry, Katherine, she said. What you and Ry went through was –

No, Jacks, she said quietly. I’m sorry." Breathe deep. I promised myself I would never look back. Then it all came back up again. She couldn’t bring herself to share anything more. Best of intentions, blah blah blah. Ry playing the hero.

My goodness, Katherine, I’m so sorry. Are you guys okay?

I think so. I don’t know. It wasn’t exactly the high point of their relationship, especially given that he’d tried to play it off as no big deal. They threw me off a building, Katherine, he said matter-of-factly. The least I could do was to keep something they value … just in case.

In case what? she had asked.

In case they decide our agreement isn’t sufficient. In case they come for us. His words sent a chill down Katherine’s spine. But what if they found out? They seemed like people who would notice if carpet fiber was out of place. The absence of vital information that doubled as damning evidence seemed likely to cross their radar. Still, she thought, that doesn’t mean I need to freak out at my best friend.  

I was there too, Katherine, Jackie said. Those were dark times. We don’t need to pretend we’re living happy rainbow lives in a cloud of pixie dust.

 I know. But I thought we had turned the page. Now I can’t be sure. But neither did I need to bite your head off. Let’s take a walk. Get some fresh air.

You bet. Jackie stood up. In spite of herself, Katherine had to smile. There were the boots. They went everywhere. Dark brown leather, with climbing roses working their way up to just below Jackie’s knees.

What’s funny? Jackie asked, looking around the office for an answer.

Nothing, Jacks, Katherine replied, but her glance didn’t waver. A smile spread slowly across her face.

Jackie looked down and laughed, swiveling one foot and then the other, modeling her most treasured pieces of western gear. Of course I’m wearing them, she said. I never leave home without them.

I had a feeling. Katherine’s smile broadened. Maybe we could grab some dinner as well? She found her friend’s boots strangely reassuring. They were dusty western proof that times had changed. They were waiting for Jackie in an old general store when she drove south to get chiles in Hatch in the fall. She came back a week later with the boots and no chiles, wearing a t-shirt with crossed Colt revolvers across her chest, and a man’s first name tattooed somewhere on her body. It’s like Vegas, Jackie told Katherine when she returned. Except I’ll tell you everything.

Talk about change. Katherine had to admit Jackie’s boots made her a little jealous. Not that she had a wandering eye or wanted to light out for the territories. But maybe she needed to be the one picking potters’ clay out of her fingernails on Monday morning. Or soothing unfamiliar muscles after a kayaking trip. She just didn’t want to feel like some kind of imposter, a walk-on in someone else’s western.

One step at a time, she reminded herself. Everything we’re doing out here is new. Even the fact that ye olde Grand Valley Farm Connection is in the toilet.

As the two women reached the office door, Katherine’s stomach growled loudly. Wow, Katherine, Jackie said, You know how to make a girl feel special too. Maybe we should skip the walk and find some food.

Sounds like a plan. She opened the door and they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight.

What are you feeling like?

My turn to toss out some lingo, Katherine thought. Back to you, Jacks, she said. Red or green?

I like how you think. Jackie replied, sliding on her sunglasses. I know just the place. The office door swung closed behind them.

The church potluck, please let it be tonight. Let the long red van have come by. May Elsie have bestowed the gift of her companionship on others. Francine opening the door was a good sign. So was the lack of a walker in the hallway. Her son was quietly working at Francine’s kitchen table.

In the same instant, she heard a muffled toilet flush and saw Elsie’s shawl askew on the back of one of the chairs. No luck with the potluck, Anna thought. She’s here. Hide any signs of personal weakness. Bubble wrap all interests. Shields up and man the battle stations. I’ll talk fast, she muttered. Mrs. Bladensworth made slow progress on carpet.

Walking over to the table, she ruffled Paul’s hair and planted a quick kiss on the top of his head. Hey kiddo. Good day at school?

Hey mom. It was fine. He didn’t look up from his algebra textbook. It passed as a detailed answer from her son these days. Two months into being 13, he was the same great kid, just with 90 percent fewer words. 

Would you like to stay for dinner? Francine asked, reaching for a ladle. She had walked over to the stove, where the contents of a large cast iron pot were steadily bubbling. Beef stew and potatoes.

Goodness, thank you, Francine, Anna replied. That’s very kind. We should probably be going. I’ve got to get him home and I’ve got to get ready for class. This was their dance.

I make it special for Paul. I know how he loves the stew. Francine said.

You spoil him, and us. But you know we don’t mean to impose. You do so much for us. Sometimes they stayed. Sometimes Elsie tipped the scales in favor of a quick exit.

Please, stop it. You know I love to feed people. Stay.

Even the strenuous rattling of the bathroom doorknob and the cry of the door’s hinges would not dissuade her this evening. Thank you, Francine, Anna replied.

It’s a pleasure … grab some bowls.

Anna opened drawers and reached familiarly in cabinets for the yellow yarn placemats, speckled brown-and white bowls, and a tan pitcher for water. In another couple of decades, Francine’s kitchen could be designated as a historic landmark. It was like stepping back

Reviews for Roost

[angiesangels · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Kindle via Author for honest reviewWhen four "out of towners" come to start up a business in a very small town they expected great things to happen and growth to come quick for the business. It doesn't quite go that way though because no one in a small town wishes to associate with or trust an "outsider". Realizing this they approach Anna, a local, for help with the company and the locals. Anna is one of kind here also, but is more connected than the new foursome trying to get in good with the locals. She is a single Mom with a heck of a past and decides to accept the job. All four of the outsiders along with Anna have quite the past. All have one thing in common...a wish to start new and over, wipe the slate clean, so to speak. As the story develops there is much more to the past than any of them think and it is hard to just leave the past completely behind without thinking of it again. Along with the four business owners there is another man wishing to start anew in the small town, an Olympic biker. He wants to start a bike shop and get out of biking for the Olympics. He too is in search of a new start and wants to leave the past behind. Can you really leave the past behind though? Will the past be okay with being cast aside or will it make sure you never forget...no matter what?I must say that I rather liked the characters of this book and the concept of the plot of this book. However, personally I found it to drag out and on a bit. The greatness was there, but some of it was lost in the slow pace I felt. I did like discovering the characters through their actions and past though. I found it a good story of struggles we all can relate to in life and the persistence we all need to push on and make our lives what we want them to be. I also liked the point that no matter how much people want to forget their past, it just isn't possible to do that, not completely anyway. The past is the past, but it makes us all who we are and what we become in life. To forget it completely would be like forgetting part of ourselves. This book was a nice read to make the reader remember all this as they watched the characters go through their daily struggles and the triumphs also. It really was a good novel, just wasn't quite as fast paced as I, personally, prefer. I loved the concept and the story though! Also, the characters were fantastic!3/5 Stars!