by Megan Linski
“I’ll eat it anyway. I don’t want to hurt your mom’s feelings.” We go to sit down on the grass and Rosemary kicks off her shoes, enjoying the grass and the sunshine. It’s not too long before Levi, Michael and Michelle pop by, all with plates of their own.
“Pretty nice cookout, huh?” Levi asks, shoving a giant spoonful into his mouth. “Donna’s an amazing cook.”
Like I don’t know that. I practically live here. Whatever I don’t eat, Levi will definitely finish off. When Michelle is nearly done Michael leans over and asks, “Are you gonna eat that?”
“Touch my food and you die,” Michelle says, not even giving him a second glance. Michael drops his head and asks, “Not even a little bite of that pie?”
“I’ll shove the whole thing in your piehole, and laugh,” she says.
“Well, then maybe I’ll pin you down and sit on you.”
Michelle’s eyes crinkle. “And maybe I’d like that.”
Michael’s whole face lights up. “Really?”
“No!” With her hands, Michelle takes a bit of sauce and smears it all over the side of Michael’s cheek.
“Ugh!” Michael says, standing up and holding a hand to his saucy face. “Michelle, you’re such a little kid!”
“You’re welcome. Now get out of my face,” she says, happily returning to her dinner as Michael stomps away. Rosemary and I both look at each other, smiling. Michael and Michelle are so into each other, it’s starting to get pathetic. By the mischievous look in her eye, I can already tell Rosie’s developing a plan to get them together.
“Why do you have to be so mean to him, Michelle?” Levi says, completely missing the entire point of the conversation. Michelle raises a saucy hand, and he falls quiet.
“Babe, can you go after Michael?” Rosemary asks. “His temper can get the best of him sometimes.”
Ha, yeah right. Michael can handle himself. She just wants to talk to Michelle on her own, get some inside information. Saluting her I say, “Right away, boss,” and I walk away, chuckling.
It takes seconds to find Michael. He’s pouting on the front porch, hands white on the railing with how tight he’s holding it. “Don’t break the house there, Superman,” I say as I walk up the steps to stand next to him. He glances at me and then shakes his head, his face hard as stone.
“She’s just teasing,” I say. “Don’t take it personally. It’s how she flirts.”
“She’s so hard to get to,” he says in frustration. “I don’t know what it’s going to take.”
“Keep trying,” I say, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. “She’ll crack eventually. She really, really likes you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s obvious.”
“Whatever.”
I stop before it dissolves into an argument. When Michael’s mad there’s no getting through to him. I turn away, starting to get a little pissed myself. I wish I had a cigarette, but I quit a long time ago.
“Dude,” Michael says and I turn back around, hoping for an apology. Instead I see him looking out into the crowd of people, completely still.
“What?” I ask, looking for whatever is so interesting.
“It’s him,” Michael says, gesturing his head towards a middle-aged, heavyset man rounding the house.
The minute I recognize his face my insides catch on fire. Hands balling into fists, I ask, “What the hell is he doing here?”
I go to start towards him but Michael grabs me and holds me back. “Noah, calm down. Don’t make a scene!”
“He shouldn’t be here! I’m going to throw him out before Rosemary sees!” I hiss. I struggle against Michael, but unfortunately he’s just as strong as I am.
“This isn’t your party! Let Peter take care of it,” Michael argues. I glance over and see that Peter is far away. He hasn’t even seen yet.
“He’s going to cause some trouble and I’m going to stop it.” I step off the porch and start towards the man, ready to fight if I need to.
“Rosemary’s gonna kill you,” Michael calls after me.
“She’ll thank me later. I’m not going to let her get hurt again.” I hurry towards the man but he gets to Donna first, far before I’m even close to him. He grabs Donna and spins her around, his large hands encompassing her arms.
“Marcus,” Donna says, and her eyes immediately show fear. “What are you doing here?”
Marcus laughs. “What, aren’t you happy to see me? I thought this was a family reunion?” He laughs even harder and begins shaking Donna. The party stops and everyone turns to watch the scene with horror, wondering what’s going on.
“You’ve been drinking again! Marcus, stop this now!” Donna demands. I’m nearly to her, running now, but it’s too late.
“Mom!” Rosemary calls and my heart sinks. Peter hears her cry and his face turns white as he sees Marcus squeezing Donna half to death, bruising her arms. Peter is closer than I am.
“Get your hands off my wife,” Peter snarls, and he lunges for Marcus. Marcus pushes Donna away from him, shoving her back into Peter’s arms and says, “Take her. I don’t know why you want a used piece of trailer trash like her.”
Nobody, not even me, sees what’s coming next. Marcus goes spinning backwards as Rosemary brings back her hand and slaps him ferociously across the cheek. The only thing you can hear is the echo of the slap, and Rosemary’s outraged gasps for breath.
“Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that,” Rosemary says, and her voice quivers. “You have no right to even look her in the eye.”
Marcus holds a hand to his cheek, shock flitting across his face. When he brings his palm away, Rosemary’s nails have caused him to bleed. When he sees the blood upon his hand he grits his teeth, pointing at Rosemary. “You’re going to regret putting your hands on me, girl.”
My temper breaks. The crowd gasps as I lunge forward, grab Marcus by the arms and lift all three hundred pounds of him up, his feet dangling.
“I’m warning you now. If you ever, ever touch my girlfriend,” I say, my voice low. “There won’t be a hole you can crawl into that I won’t find you.”
I throw him down to the ground and he goes sprawling. He gets up slowly, his fat making him scramble awkwardly to his feet, the blood running rapidly down his face now. He spits on the ground, wiping the dirt off of him from my throw. “Trash, all of you,” he says before stumbling away, back to his wreck of a car to amble recklessly down the road.
“I’m calling the police,” one of the Radison’s says, and then everyone is gathering around Rosemary and Donna, asking if they’re alright. Donna’s beside herself. She’s sobbing uncontrollably, babbling nonsense to people who are probably doing more harm than good. Rosemary is telling people she’s fine, saying that she’s alright and that nothing’s wrong, but I know better. Rosemary won’t fall apart until she’s out of all the eyesight of all these people and her mother. I have to get her away before she goes completely numb, and then even shuts me out.
I cut through the crowd and go to Peter. “I’m going to get Rosie out of here,” I tell him and he nods, overwhelmed with trying to calm Donna. Wordlessly I grab Rosemary’s hand and she takes it without resistance. Michael, Michelle and Levi are all standing nearby, waiting for instruction.
“Leave us be for an hour, guys,” I tell them, and Michelle nods as she escorts the other two away, all of them muttering to each other. Rosemary is staring straight ahead, not saying anything. I bend down, pick her up in my arms and start carrying her, saying, “Come on Rosie. We’re going for a walk.”
She lays her head on my chest and I slip quietly away from the party, into the cornfields. Once I’ve carried her for about five minutes through them I turn onto a small dirt path that goes deep into the woods.
She makes no comment all this time and my worst fears have been realized. She’s too broken to cry. If I don’t find a way to make her feel better, she’ll be like this for a week, or longer. Last time she didn’t say anything to a
nyone for three days. “Let me see you smile,” I say, jiggling her in my arms. She looks up at me and gives a grin, but it’s only for me.
The land goes into a slant and soon I’m carrying her uphill. “Do you want me to get down?” she asks, and I’m relieved. She’s finally talking.
“Nah,” I say. “You weigh nothing. It’s so easy to carry you. Besides, I like holding you.”
A genuine smile this time, thank God. We reach our destination, the top of a mossy cliff overlooking miles upon miles of farmland, Rosie’s favorite thing in the whole world. Right below us is-
“My farmhouse,” Rosemary says, beaming. A white, falling apart piece of garbage sits in the middle of huge plots of tilled ground. For years Rosemary has been obsessed with that house.
“Do you remember the night we met?” Rosemary asks and I set her down on a log, sitting next to her.
I make a sarcastic noise. “There’s no way I can forget. Michael had to practically drag me along to that party. He promised nothing was going to happen, and then he embarrasses me by puking in the bonfire.”
“And Michelle made me go to it too,” Rosemary says. “I just wanted to stay home.”
“I guess I just felt comfortable with you right from the start. The moment I looked at you, I got serious butterflies. You were beautiful.”
She chuckles, looking down at the house. “Someday I’m gonna buy that place and restore it, and live in it. It’d be perfect.”
“I don’t get why you want to purchase that old thing. Nobody’s looked at it for years. It’s got more work in it than it’s worth.”
“It means something. Ever since I was a little girl I used to play around here, and that farmhouse is where I first met you. No mansion or castle could ever be better.” She leans against me.
“Maybe someday.” I don’t want to bring it up, but I know I have to. “Rosie, are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” I take her shoulders and turn her to look at me, straight in the eyes. “I want to make sure that you’re fine after all of that.”
“Just typical McGowan drama. I should be used to it by now,” she says and she tries to pull away, but I hold her steady.
“No, you shouldn’t. That’s not right. He had no business coming in here and treating your family like that.” My voice gets angrier. “I’m serious, Rosie. Nobody hurts you. If he tries anything, I’ll go after him.”
“You better not!” she bursts. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Believe me if we get into a fight, I’m definitely not the going to be the one getting hurt,” I tell her.
“He’s dangerous. They both are,” Rosemary says. “I don’t want you going anywhere near them. Especially my father. He’s not all there.”
“We both had rough pasts, Rosie,” I say. “I just wish yours would stop coming back to haunt you.”
“Marcus is a mean drunk, that’s all he is. But my dad...” Rosemary bites her lip. “He’s something else.”
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
“There’s a chance I could end up just like him.”
“You are not going to turn out like Jack. It’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know, Noah?” she asks. “It runs in families. What if I do? I already have mental issues.”
“So do I, you just deal with them,” I tell her. “It’s no big deal. I’ll still love you no matter what. If you try to come after me with a knife I’ll just pin you down like always. No big deal.”
She doesn’t laugh. “You’ll leave me,” she says softly. “You’ll go away, and I’ll be all alone.
“Don’t you go saying that again,” I say, groaning. “Listen, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I’m not leaving you Rosie. That’s it. You’re pissing me off by saying that all the time. I hear it at least twice a day.”
“Well I only say it because it’s true,” Rosemary says, looking away from me.
“For crying out-” I have to shut up before I say something I don’t mean.
“Noah, I’m terrified of losing you,” she says, and she turns to place a hand on my chest. “I wouldn’t be able to function if I didn’t have you around. You keep me sane.”
“You keep me sane, too.”
“I know. But you don’t understand how much. I have a job, am going to college, know what I want to do. I even know where I want to live,” she laughs. “I have tons of dreams. But without you in them they’re just...empty. I have to get used to the fact that it’s going to happen, because one of these days I’m going to do something terrible and turn into a monster-”
“Stop that!” I yell, and she shrinks down. I take a deep breath, waiting a few seconds, before I lower my voice and say, “If I was going to leave you I would’ve done it already. I do a lot for you, Rosemary. If I didn’t love you and didn’t want to be here, I’d be long gone. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Just stop worrying about it.”
She drops her head down and instantly guilt sets in. I hate shouting at Rosemary, but sometimes it’s the only way to get through to her. I push her playfully and say, “Rosie. Smile.”
“Nope,” she says, but the corners of her mouth are already turning up.
“Smile!” I say again, and then instantly attack her sides in a furious tickle war. She screams and falls over, and soon we’re wrestling around on the ground as she tries to stop me.
“No-ah!” she protests, giggling as I sit on her and mercilessly start tickling the shit out of her. I don’t stop till she’s out of breath and has given up, lying on her side and waiting for me to quit.
“Are you done being pouty?” I ask, and she nods. I get up off of her and she stands up, groaning. “Noah, this was a new shirt!” she says, gesturing to the dirt stains all over the front.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I tell her. I brush the dirt off of her and say, “Come on. Let’s go see what’s so special about this house you want.”
I take off at a run down the hill and she follows me, laughing. She’s almost just as fast as I am, but not quite. I slow down just enough for her to catch up and we jog side by side through the tilled fields and to the white farmhouse. We halt just before the sagging building, the black tiles sliding off the roof, the steps leading up to the porch with holes in them.
“It’s beautiful,” she hushes, and I squint my eyes to try and see what she sees. Grabbing my hand, she starts pulling on me. “Come on! Let’s go inside!”
“What? I don’t know if it’s safe,” I say.
“Of course it’s safe,” Rosemary scoffs, though she doesn’t know. “Don’t be a chicken!”
“Trespassing, why not?” I sigh. “I swear, if the house falls on us when we’re in there I’m using you as a shovel to dig us out.” I let her pull me inside, careful where I put my feet. When she opens the door a great wave of dust and mildew hits me, and I start coughing.
Now that it’s light out instead of dark, you can clearly see the outline of the house. Wood floors match the old fashioned wallpaper, only a few discarded paintings and broken pieces of furniture lying around the empty spaces.
“Wow, it’s so old,” Rosemary says. “This place had to have been built in the twenties.”
“It definitely hasn’t been updated since.” I kick a discarded chair leg across the room. A cabinet is slightly cracked open and, curious, I nudge it with my foot. “Whoa,” I say, eyes widening as I look at all the dusty, unopened bottles. “Somebody liked to drink back in the day.”
“It has an upstairs!” she says, pointing. She starts running up before I can stop her.
“Rosie, we don’t know how stable this place is! Be careful!” Just as I say that my foot breaks through one of the stairs and I struggle to pull myself up through it. “Ugh.” This girl is going to kill me one of these days.
“Found the bathroom,” she says when I crawl into the hallway. She looks out a dirty window and says, “It�
��s in better condition than I thought.”
“I guess it’s not too bad,” I say fairly. “But it needs a lot of work. A lot of work.”
“It’d be a fun project,” she says, heading back down the stairs. “I can’t wait to start on it.”
“You need to get the money, hun,” I say, carefully following her, grabbing onto the baluster that shakes for dear life as I start back down the stairs. “How about you get that degree first?”
“I will, one step at a time,” she says and we walk out the front door together, back through the field and towards her house. “I’ve got to finish up my associate’s.” She pauses. “And you need to pick what you want to do, too.”
The tilled mounds crunch beneath my feet. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Noah...” she hesitates, and I freeze. I know what’s coming. “We’ve been out of high school a year. It’s time to start deciding.”
“It’s not like I’ve been doing nothing. I’ve been working nonstop. I’ve got tons of money put away,” I say, and I do. I have thousands, more than I know what to do with right now.
“Then start putting it towards your education,” she says. “You can’t do anything with a high school diploma anymore, Noah. I know you love working on the farm, but it’s not going to be able to support you forever.” She looks away, and whispers, “Or support me.”
“I don’t want to rush into anything just because it’s what everyone expects me to do,” I tell her. “I’m working on a plan.”
“What, Noah? You told me you were going to school during the winter semester, and then you told me you’d start in the summer, and summer’s almost here.” She takes a deep breath. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to keep putting it off.”
“I don’t know what I want.” I hate this question. I hate the constant fear of not knowing, the constant wondering and debating of what I needed to do with my life. The last thing I needed was my girlfriend to rag on me about it, too.
“Just go with me for a few classes next fall,” she begs me. “At least it’s a start.”
“I just want to love you. Isn’t that enough for now?” I snap quickly at her, and she falls silent. I look away from her, past all the fields and trees and out towards the road, wishing I could be on it now. Behind the wheel of a car and in the garage working on them was the only place I felt like life made sense. The rest of it, and its decisions and commitments, was too much to deal with sometimes. But then I thought of Rosemary and what she was sacrificing. Sometimes I felt guilty and wondered if she was going to community college just because she wanted to be near me. But there’d only be one more year of that, and then she’d have to go to a university. I didn’t know what we were going to do then.