Just Rosalie

Winter Springs Part2

STROLLING THROUGH TOWN, they all got weird looks and glances. A group of joggers stared at them intently as they walked by. And Rosalie being clung to Elizabeth's hip attracted even more attention. Elizabeth recognized a few faces, and others she couldn't remember. A lot of the older folks had known her when she was a little girl, and probably wondered why she'd bought the cabin on the mountain that was once owned by the Petersmith's. Her parents' old house had been demolished years ago, and was renovated into a little pub. The town had changed from what it was in the eighties, even the faces seemed nosier than before.
"Babe, you know any of those people?"
Rosalie was referring to the group of joggers who gave them disapproving looks for their public display of affection. But Rosalie wouldn't let them stop her, and Elizabeth certainly could care less. She'd grown use to the looks of disgust over the years. Being a successful architecture in a male dominated field weakened the balls of many men. She'd encountered quite a few arrogant snobs who thought she'd banged her way to the top. Elizabeth always found pride in her profession, and how hard she'd worked to be where she was. And she definitely didn't bang anyone to get there.
"Not sure. I probably went to kindergarten with a few of them."
Elizabeth chuckled. Michelle and Henry had resorted to using the last of their data, and were texting away on their phones. As for Barbara and Zoe, they'd been worrying about Margaret. She'd been in Afghanistan for a couple of weeks, and they hadn't heard from her yet.
"You look so much younger than them. Aren't you like twenty-five?"
Rosalie tightened her hold on Elizabeth's hand. She rested her head on Elizabeth's shoulder as they continued to walk.
"I'm turning forty in September, smarty pants. I definitely don't look so young."
Rosalie could beg to differ.
"To me, you can even pull off diapers."
Elizabeth cringed and chuckled at the same time.
"Honey, where are we heading anyway?"
Kaitlyn asked as she began to get out of breath. She hadn't walked for so long in a long time, which meant that she should probably hit a gym once in a while.
"I'm not sure. I thought we're just strolling."
They noticed that they were passing by the pub and decided to head inside for refreshments.
"Does this mean that Michelle and I will get a drink too?"
"Of course, kid. Soda is a drink."
Rosalie said with a chuckle. The frown on Henry's face could kill a demon, if possible.
"I'll have a shot of..."
Barbara grabbed her daughter's arm and waved off the bartender. He chuckled and moved over to Rosalie's end of the bar.
"What can I get you, stranger? You're over twenty-one, correct?"
Rosalie nodded and grabbed a napkin to wipe the counter in front of her.
"I'll have a glass of red wine. Babe, what do you want?"
"I'll have the same."
The bartender looked at them with strange eyes and a forced smile. Kaitlyn noticed his discomfort and chuckled.
"I'll have a whiskey, neat. Barbara?"
"Wine's good. Get sprites for these two rascals. They're only eighteen."
"But mom..."
Barbara glared at her daughter, causing Michelle to huff and cross her arms over her chest.
"I like Sprite."
Henry said as he leaned against the bar and ran his fingers through his brunette hair. Rosalie wondered how Henry was doing. Lee probably was back to her old self-a bad mother.
The bartender placed their drinks onto the counter. It was dead for a late Thursday afternoon. Other than them, only a man, with a head of grey, sat at a booth at the far corner of the room, sipping on a beer and eating stale pretzels.
"How's work handling your time away? I'm sure things are chaotic without you."
"I was wrapping up stuff here anyway. Isabelle can handle everything for once. She's staying in the New York office, while I set up the office in Milan. We need to expand, which means more employees, more contracts, more clients..."
"Sounds great."
Rosalie said before taking a sip of her wine. The wine tasted like unprocessed grapes. She cringed and grabbed Henry's sprite.
"Hey, that's mine."
Michelle chuckled as she grabbed Rosalie's wine and took a sip. Barbara's eyes widened and she grabbed the glass.
"That's not too bad actually. I've had worse."
The look on Barbara's face made Michelle place the palm of her hand over her mouth.
"I'm eighteen, mom. Give me a break."
"Must I remind you that your father was an alcoholic?"
"He's dead. So, don't bring him up."
Michelle stormed into the pub's restroom. Zoe and Rosalie followed her.
"Michelle..."
"Privacy please!"
She yelled behind the bathroom stall. She'd begun to cry and wanted to be alone.
"Michelle, we're here for you. I know it must be hard."
Michelle felt like a fool. Why was she crying? Why did she have to feel so many things at once?
"How do you do it? How can you live without your parents?"
Zoe inhaled a breath. Rosalie looked at her with questioning eyes. Both of Zoe's parents were dead?
"I don't have a choice. They're gone, but those that we've lost will always be in our hearts."
Rosalie placed her hand in Zoe's with tears in her eyes. She didn't know that Michelle's mom had died.
"Zoe, I didn't know..."
"We haven't gotten to talk that much, have we? She died four years ago from cancer."
Why were so many people dead?
"I... your mum was a great woman."
Zoe had suffered the loss of both of her parents, Elizabeth had, as well. Barbara lost her husband, as for Michelle, her father. Rosalie had lost her twin brother, and Kaitlyn lost her only son. The women in the group had all suffered loss in their lives. Maybe, that was something holding them together-a bond.
"You two really need to resolve your conflict, because you'll be in each other's lives forever. Unless any of you two are planning to ditch our little group."
Rosalie looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Maybe, she'd found people who'd be her friends without ulterior motives. They were a mixed bunch, if nothing else-two teenagers, two twenty-something year olds, one thirty-something year old, and two forty-something year olds. Soon, they'd be three women in their forties, but that'll happen till in September.
"Zoe, I'm sorry for..."
"I deserved it, honestly."
Zoe washed her hands and grabbed a paper towel.
"No, you didn't. I was still pissed about how we ended, I guess."
Rosalie rubbed the back of her neck with the palm of her hand.
"I don't blame you, Rose."
"I was pissed, Zoe. I'm not anymore. It was childish of me to behave that way. I'm just not use to being vulnerable. There are walls that I've built to protect myself, and..."
"I understand, Rose."
Zoe threw her used paper towel into the trash and looked at herself in the mirror as well.
"Let's let bygones be bygones?"
"Of course."
Michelle leaned against the wall next to the sink and lowered her eyes.
"Michelle, let's go back outside. And I'll get you a pina colada. How does that sound?"
Rosalie wouldn't allow that bartender to mix any drinks for her. If everything else tasted anything close to the wine, she'd definitely have to pass.
Barbara had grown increasingly worried about Michelle. After her husband's death, Michelle had been spiraling every now and then. She'd even started seeing a counselor for her anger issues.
"How you've been holding up, Barb?"
Elizabeth asked as she sipped on her glass of wine. It certainly wasn't the best grapes that she'd tasted.
"Good, I guess. I'm thinking of getting a job soon. Something to keep myself occupied."
"Really now? What field are you thinking?"
Barbara sighed.
"I'm not sure. There isn't much else that I can do other than being a housewife."
Kaitlyn sighed. She hated to see a woman in distress. She'd pursued a career, while lots of other woman took care of their families. Both were rewarding, and both were necessary in a woman's life. Independence was one of the best forms of happiness to Kaitlyn. And she'd help as much as she could.
"That's not true. Being a mother is one of the most difficult jobs there is. Okay, in high school, what subject were you good at?"
Barbara looked at Kaitlyn curiously.
"I excelled in a few subjects, why?"
"Just trying to find a groove of which career you should dip your toes into."
Michelle walked up behind her mother and hugged her. Barbara smiled as Rosalie and Zoe sat down. Rosalie grabbed Elizabeth's hand immediately and kissed the back of her palm. She'd missed Elizabeth, even though she'd only been away for a few minutes.
"Mom, I told you that the company is hiring more translators. And Spanish is the highest in demand, right now."
"I'm not sure. I don't even know how to use a computer properly."
"Then, I'll teach you. You're a quick learner."
Rosalie knew that Zoe was fluent in Italian. She'd always been great at foreign language in high school.
"So, I'm guessing you're an Italian translator?
Zoe nodded and ran the palm of her hand over her stomach. The human inside of her was extremely hungry, or maybe that was her own hunger.
"What? You thought I didn't have a job?"
Rosalie shrugged. She'd never thought about what Zoe did for a living.
"Didn't cross my mind."
"That's sexist."
Rosalie frowned as Zoe grabbed a menu from the bar. She looked over what the pub's kitchen had to offer to sustain her hunger.
"I don't bloody work. How am I being sexist?"
"You're an internationally renowned artist. How is it that you don't work?"
"When your job is something that you love, it's like living the dream."
Zoe frowned. She wished that she had a job which she loved that much.
"It pays for the airplane's fuel."
Kaitlyn chuckled as she grabbed a pretzel from the bowl on the counter.
"We both haven't painted in days. Times like this, I miss my stupid studio."
Rosalie couldn't wait to be in Milan. She had a studio that adjoined her bedroom at the lake house. Even though she no longer had a fondness for lakes, at least one of her many studios were there. Her mother's other house was too small to keep so many people at once, but there was also a tiny studio there too. Since there were talented artists running through the family, they'd set up domains wherever possible. Romario was also a very good artist. His pieces specified a technique that they'd both inherited from their mother.
"I've been sketching every day, every time an idea comes to mind."
Rosalie frowned. Her mother was so committed to her work that she'd felt envious.
"I can't draw for shit. My art teacher says I can't even make a straight line with a ruler."
Michelle said, making everyone chuckle. Rosalie felt at peace with herself. She had a beautiful woman to call her own, and amazing friends. Each and every one of them had a story-stories that were uniquely theirs. And the good thing about their newfound group was that each of their stories was connected somehow or the other.