Rosemary

 

 

Rosemary had never been impulsive or spontaneous. The most impulsive thing she ever did was dye her hair black when she went through a moody teenager phase. She regretted it immediately. So she was at a loss to explain why she accepted Tani’s offer.

All she had waiting for her back on Earth was an eternity of double-shifts, never seeing her son, and fighting Vince for custody. The idea of working so hard to give Michael the life he deserved and never seeing her honey bunny when he was the thing that got her out of bed in the mornings tore her apart.

Accepting Tani’s offer was the right decision, for her and Michael.

She waited until putting Michael to bed to share her news. Rosemary smoothed the blanket and re-tucked him in.

"Mom, you're acting weird."

"Do you like it here?"

"Yeah, I guess." Uncertainty wavered in his voice. She was acting weird, and it freaked him out.

Rosemary smiled. "Tani offered me a job. I want to accept."

"Oh. Cool." He rolled away from her, tucking his hand under his pillow.

That's it? No questions? No concerns about school or leaving his friends, or even about his toys?

"Are you okay with that? With living here?"

Michael sat up. "Are you going to marry Mene?"

"What? No. No," Rosemary sputtered. "This is a job with the winery, in the Tasting Room. I'm not marrying anyone."

"Aunt Hazel said you would."

Rosemary frowned. "It's not very nice to talk about people behind their backs."

"That's why she said I shouldn't tell you."

A surprised laugh rang out. "You are just the worst little gossip I've ever known."

"She said you'd say that, too."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him back down to the pillow. "Go to sleep, honey. We'll talk in the morning."

Morning came. Seeran and Hazel left early. They had a three-day journey to return to his post on the Judgment. Apparently, teleportation and pregnancy did not mix.

After a quick breakfast, Rosemary and Michael inspected their new digs.

The cottage was in good condition, if dusty. She’d expect nothing less from the Rhews. Their home was tasteful and well maintained, with the same level of care showed in every building on the property. The cottage had basic furnishings already in place. Despite being old-fashioned, the furniture was in good condition. She saw no reason to drag her old stuff across the galaxy. Most of her furniture was second-hand or the cheap stuff from discount stores. No family heirlooms, nothing like that.

She did decide to catch her afternoon shuttle to Earth to tie up loose ends. While her furniture wasn't worth saving, she had clothes, Michael's things, pictures and other precious items that could never be replaced. She would also need a set of dishes, pots and pans and the other details of everyday living.

The plan was to go back home, hire movers, get rid of everything else and let her landlord know she was leaving. Breaking the lease, actually. With such short notice, she wouldn't get her deposit back, but her conscience would rest easy. While she was doing all that, Tani would get Michael the immunization shots he'd need to start school. Apparently, the Mahdfel Academy had a blend of interstellar and Mahdfel students. Michael wouldn't be the only human in the school.

Rosemary made quick work of packing up her house. If she wasn't so determined to get back to her son as soon as possible, she might have been depressed about how little she had worth saving. Not even the knickknacks on the bookshelves were worth hauling to another planet. Clothes were packed without question as were Michael's toys. She packed her favorite books but set aside the rest to be donated. She carefully wrapped photo frames and packed them with care. She didn't have any photos of her parents. All those had been destroyed, but she had a metric ton of photos of Hazel and Michael. She'd rather tear her heart out than lose a single picture.

As the day wore on, she cleared out the pantry and kitchen cabinets. Next came closets, which she emptied of shoes, sports equipment, board games, and all the other accumulated junk of everyday life.  She decided to keep her curtains and bed linens. That little touch of home would be comforting, if not for Michael then for her. A small part of her never outgrew the need for the comfort of a favorite blanket.

She folded her favorite blanket, a red-yellow-orange crocheted afghan, and packed it away. The low-quality acrylic yarn showed every rough year. It was hideous—ketchup red, mustard yellow, processed cheese orange—but her mother crocheted the scratchy, ugly mess. It was all she had left. Her only heirloom. She hated it as a child. Her mother let Rosemary pick the colors. She wanted the colors of the sunset. What she got was the colors of hamburger condiments. The only reason Rosemary still had it was because when her mother woke her in the middle of the night to evacuate the house, she wrapped it around herself. She carried it from refugee camp to refugee camp, and finally into an orphanage. Despite its ragged appearance, Rosemary just couldn't part with the afghan. It was the one tiny part of her mother she still had.

The neighbor came to help and offered to take the beds and sofa. The kids from next door carried out boxes of foodstuffs Rosemary no longer needed. She cleaned out the fridge and freezer, saving just enough for immediate meals.

When the moving company arrived the next day, she had her life reduced to a pile of boxes in the living room and a constant ache in her lower back. Once the movers took away the boxes, she had a short shopping list. Hazel wanted chocolate. Not just any chocolate but a specific brand, the German one with the purple wrapper. Apparently what was available out in the depths of space was not good enough. She also wanted to bring a few bottles of wine. Tani would get a kick out of that. Rosemary thought a few bottles, ranging from terribly cheap to modestly fancy that would do nicely as a gift.

A knock sounded at the door. Before she could answer, Vince let himself in.

He surveyed the empty house. "Moving?"

Sugar pops.

"Seems like you're moving to me."

Double fudging sugar pops.

"You're supposed to be gone for four months," she said. Vince scratched his balls, unconcerned. Rosemary couldn't believe she used to love him, or thought she loved him. He was gross on a fundamental level. Just so, so gross. “You got one of the neighbors spying on me?”

"No, this was just a friendly visit, but it seems like my stopping by was a good idea. I'd hate to have you run out on me and take my boy."

"Please. Save your drama for someone who'll believe it."

"Like a judge?"

He didn't touch her, but she felt the sucker punch land in the middle of her stomach. Yeah. She walked into that one.

"Like some other chump who'll give you money."

"Oh, Rosemary. You've my favorite chump." He managed to stretch favorite into three syllables: fav-or-ite. He wandered over to the table and flicked through the papers. Her throat tightened, and her stomach churned. She gathered together her important documents, birth certificate, identification cards, medical records, and more. The shuttle tickets were sitting right on top of the pile. Vince, the bloodhound of sleaze, found it immediately. "Going off-planet?"

Actually, he was more of a crap hound.

"Since when can you afford to go off-planet?" he asked.

A fucking crap hound of the highest degree. "It's none of your business,” she said.

"It is when my son is involved."

"Please. Like you've given a rat's ass about your son."

"Where is he? Michael!" he yelled. "Michael! Come and see your old man."

"He's not here, so stop yelling."

Vince turned on her, eyes blazing. "Is this where he is? Are you hiding my boy off-planet?" He brandished the shuttle ticket at her.  When she didn't deny it, he nodded. "You've gone too far, Rosemary. You can’t keep me away from my son.”

“You don’t care about your son. You only care about your piggy bank!”

"He's my flesh and blood! You'll hear from my lawyer." Vince stormed out, door slamming behind him.

Rosemary ran to the door. "Go crawling back to your family! I’m sure they’ll be super excited to clean up your mess!"

She wanted to sink to the floor, cry, and give up. The situation had been far from ideal but trying to make a better life somehow made everything worse. Vince was involving his family and their endless resources. There would be court hearings and judges and custody. Being an adult was so damn hard, but Michael needed her. Relied on her. The sacrifices she made weren't for her; they were for him.

She would fix this. Had to fix this. Hell would freeze over before she’d let Vince take away her son. The situation was just more complicated, and that was all. She'd call her old lawyer, the one who drew up the custody papers, and see if there was something they could so. Settling custody disputes on another planet had to be mega-expensive. She might have to stay off Earth until the situation was resolved.

She'd figure it out. She always did.