by Charley Lynn
Mike nodded thoughtfully. “Did you apply at Central?”
“No, I didn’t. I don’t want to go to Central or live with Oma. Even if I was going to Central, I’d live at home.”
“But she doesn’t believe you have the money saved? Does she think you’re lying?”
“Oh, yeah. She accuses me of lying all the time. If it’s anything that doesn’t fit her narrow view of the world, she either discounts it or decides I’m lying. She does it to my mom, too. She has three female cousins, all around the same age, and they say the same stuff. I hate being around them because they constantly bad mouth my mom and roll their eyes at everything I say. She’s always got one or two of them with her and that makes things more tense for me. Opa is more quiet than usual when they’re around, too.”
“Do you ever see your opa on your own?”
“Not really. I’m not too crazy about the farm, but when I was a little girl, I used to ride on the tractor with him and I loved getting even a few minutes without her breathing down our necks. He got a smartphone last spring so we text back and forth. Oma won’t even use a cell phone; she doesn’t seem to know about our texts and neither one of us brings it up. As far as she’s concerned, all information related to me goes through her. Opa’s a sweet man, but he won’t buck Oma. She refused to ever come to dance recitals and she wouldn’t let him come, either.”
“Why wouldn’t she go to your dance recitals?”
“She didn’t approve of me taking dance. It was okay when I was little, but when I turned twelve, she told my mom it was ‘unseemly’ for a teenager to dance in front of people and she refused to pay for my lessons. My Uncle Jack paid my dance fees when I was twelve and after that, I paid for them myself with money I made from modeling.”
“Did she come to school programs, or concerts, or anything like that?”
“No, because she was mad that Mom didn’t put me in a Christian school. She came to a couple of church-related things when I was in the children’s choir at my church, but nothing else. She told my mom once that she was a horrible mother because she let me do activities that weren’t sponsored either by church or by a church school. She never got over the fact that Mom took me to a Methodist church instead of Dutch Reformed.” Rosemary took a sip of coffee. “I slipped once and mentioned that we’d gone to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve with my mom’s parents and Oma went ballistic. Apparently, going to a Methodist church was better than going to a Catholic service. That’s the only time I ever saw my mom get mad at Oma. Oma walked into our house when she brought me home and started screaming at Mom about me going to Mass. My mom came right back at her. I heard her tell Oma that she’d take me to whatever church she pleased and it was none of Oma’s business. Mom kicked her out of the house and I didn’t see Oma and Opa for a couple of months.”
“My Grandma Studor isn’t that bad, but she’s never helped my mom at all, especially after my dad died.” He shook his head and changed the subject. “Why does your oma think you couldn’t go to college if she didn’t pay for it?”
“Maybe because Mom and John have several kids. I know she thinks they’re going to be more focused on getting Caleb and Connor to college because they’re boys.”
“That’s sexist.”
“Oma thinks like someone who is ninety, not sixty-three. She has told me fifty times that I will be taking elementary education classes and that it’s the only appropriate major for me.”
Mike chuckled. “You’re great with kids, but I don’t think elementary education is your only choice.”
“No, it’s not. Not my only choice and definitely not my preferred choice.”
On Monday, Rosemary wasn’t at her locker before school. Mike cut out of his last morning class ten minutes early and went to the Commons. He found Rosemary in her regular place, with her brown bag and sketch book. He got his lunch, and sat down across from her.
“Hi.” Mike grinned.
Rosemary looked up. “Hi.”
“I’m joining you for lunch.”
“I see that. Won’t your guys miss you?”
“Maybe. But I don’t care. What shall we talk about?”
“Um. I don’t know?”
“Okay. I’ll start. I didn’t see you at your locker this morning. Were you late for school?”
“Yeah. Morning drama at the Masters’. I was on my own because John had an early meeting. Lara and Leesa fought tooth and nail over a pink sweater. Caleb and Connor fought over whose turn it was to walk the dogs. While they were fighting, the dogs got loose. Caleb started a small fire in the microwave. By the time Connor turned off the smoke alarms, Caleb found the dogs in the timber, and I found a second pink sweater for Leesa, we were all late for school.”
Mike laughed. “It sounds like a SpongeBob episode. I’m visualizing you running from room to room, trying to fix everything, all at once.”
“It wasn’t quite that frantic. There was a little yelling when the fire was burning in the kitchen. Doors may have been slammed in the twins’ room. Dogs may have been barking at some point. I may have threatened to hide every article of pink clothing my sisters own. But other than that, no drama.”
Mike laughed. “I changed my mind. Maybe Keystone Cops is more accurate.”
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “How was your morning?”
“Oh, I had the same kind of morning. Mom took Miranda to daycare, I got up, showered and ate breakfast. Then I drove myself to school.”
“Exactly the same. So many similarities between spending the morning alone and corralling four kids, two dogs and getting all of us to school on time.”
“Right.” Mike grinned. “Aren’t you going to eat your sandwich, your veggies and your apple?”
Rosemary stared at him. “How do you know what I have for lunch?”
“I’m psychic.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Okay. Maybe I watched you eat the same thing every day.”
“That’s kind of weird, you know. Watching me eat lunch.” Rosemary opened the brown bag and looked inside. We didn’t have any apples today. I have a tangerine for dessert.” Rosemary pulled her sandwich out of the bag.
“Way to mix it up, Rosemary…what’s your middle name?”
“Never mind.”
“No, really. I’ll tell you mine. It’s Paul. Michael Paul Studor, Jr.” Mike wiggled his eyebrows and took a big bite of shepherd’s pie. “Come on, tell me.”
Rosemary sighed. “All right. It’s Desiree.
“Rosemary Desiree Bakker. It’s pretty.”
“Thanks. Now, tell me about your football season.”
“We’ve won our first three games. Like John predicted, we could go to the playoffs.” Mike grinned. “Our D is good and Chad Keller is so good he’s scary. He’s a junior, but he’s already being looked at by scouts.”
“What is ‘D’?”
“Defense.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Studor, you get lost?” A very large boy stood over them with a tray loaded with food.
“Naw, I just found better company.”
“Hi, Rosemary.” The very large boy nodded at her.
“Hi.” Rosemary frowned. She couldn’t remember the boy’s name.
“I’m Jake.”
“Okay. Hi, Jake.”
“Get lost, Jake.” Mike frowned; Jake grinned and moved away without another word.
“Mike, that wasn’t very nice.”
“We’ve known each other since we were three years old and he doesn’t take anything I say seriously. Can I have half of your tangerine?”
“Sure.” Rosemary held out half of the tangerine she had just peeled. Mike popped it into his mouth. “Did you even taste that?”
He swallowed. “Sure. It tasted good.”
“Class in five minutes. See you later.” Without a backward glance, Rosemary moved away, posture erect, grace and beauty in every move. Mike grinned. She was moving like a dancer again—progress!
Ch
apter 22
While Mike was doing his homework, he heard Miranda’s voice from Patty’s room. She sounded like she was begging for something. Patty answered, “I just can’t, Miranda. I have class.”
“But, Mom. Tell them you can’t come that night.”
“It doesn’t work that way, honey. Mommy has to be there for every class.”
Mike sat on the edge of Patty’s bed and pulled Miranda to his lap. “Peanut, what are you asking Mom?”
“I want to go see Roma at the mall.”
“Why is Roma at the mall?”
“She’s in a show! Lara said she’s going to sing.”
“No, baby. Roma is going to model in a show at the mall. She’s going to walk around the stage and show off some clothes. She won’t talk or even be on the stage very long. I think you might be disappointed at the show.”
“I still want to go!”
“When is this, Mom?”
“Thursday night at seven. At Valley West.”
“Maybe I could take her. I’ll be home in time.”
“You might miss your pre-game curfew.”
“I’ll text Coach and tell him I might be a few minutes late getting home.”
“Are you sure?” Patty looked at him doubtfully. “It’s a fashion show.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll pick up something for Miranda to eat and she can watch Roma. I’ll go text my coach and make sure it’s okay with him in case we’re late getting home.”
Mike came back a few minutes later, his face slightly pink. “Coach gave me some grief about going to a fashion show, but he said okay.”
Patty chuckled. “The things you’re willing to do for Miranda are amazing.”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t help you as much as I should, Mom. Especially during football season. If it was any other night of the week except Thursday, I wouldn’t have been able to take her.”
“You help a lot, honey. I know how football season is; your dad played and coached. Your Uncle Vince played, too. You don’t need to worry about how busy you are.”
Mike kissed his mom on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I texted Uncle Vince, too. He’ll have Miranda here before five-thirty and he’ll pick her up a kids’ meal she can eat in the car. It’s all good.”
Mike found a seat in the second row, on the end. He settled Miranda into the chair and took off her coat. “Are you excited, Sweet Pea?”
Miranda was bouncing on her chair. “Yes! Lara and Leesa are coming, too. I hope they sit with us.” A few minutes later, Miranda stood on her chair and waved enthusiastically at Rosemary’s little sisters. The twins, Margie and the baby, and Caleb filled up the row next to Mike. As the lights lowered slightly, Mike put Miranda on his lap so she could see better.
“Look, Mickey! There’s Roma!” Mike watched Rosemary walk confidently to the end of the runway, turn several times and walk back. Over the next ninety minutes, Rosemary came out twice more, always looking confident, beautiful and fashionable.
At the end of the show, the models strutted out in replicas of the costumes from ‘Grease.’ Each model was on the arm of a member of the semi-pro basketball team based in Des Moines. The players were all wearing black leather jackets, white tee shirts and jeans. Most of the models were in poodle skirts or pink satin jackets and capri pants, but Rosemary was wearing the black leather pants and top from the movie’s final scene. She carried a black leather jacket with red lining slung over her shoulder and wore red stilettos. Mike tried to keep his tongue from hanging out, because the outfit was skin-tight and looked like it was painted on her curves.
While Rosemary’s heels were high, the player with her was several inches taller. He was introduced as Jaylen Jerome, a six-nine tall center who had played for Louisville. He was very attentive to Rosemary, even kissing her cheek when he was introduced. “Mom! That guy kissed Rosemary!” One of the twins hissed.
“I know, honey.”
“Is he her boyfriend?”
“No, Leesa, it’s just for show.”
“He keeps smiling at Rosemary. He’s really hot, Mom!” Leesa pointed out loudly.
“I think she should make him her boyfriend,” Lara announced, also very loudly.
“It’s just a show! Don’t talk so loud!” Caleb said to his sisters, also too loudly. The audience sitting around them laughed. Mike looked up at the stage. The player, eyes on Rosemary’s sisters, leaned down and whispered something in Rosemary’s ear.
Rosemary shook her head slightly, a smile playing around her lips. The emcee of the show was standing directly in front of Margie and he, too, was laughing. “Folks, I think one of our models has a fan club. “Models, does this group of fans belong to any of you?”
Rosemary gave a little wave. “Are these your brothers and sisters?” The emcee grinned when Rosemary nodded. “Mr. Jerome, apparently this young lady’s sisters see an opportunity here.” The emcee raised his eyebrows and joked back and forth with Jaylen Jerome until the models and the players filed off the stage.
Mike helped Miranda put on her coat, trying not to take the banter too seriously. “Hi, Mike!” Caleb made his way down the row towards Mike. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Miranda wanted to come,” Mike mumbled.
“Yeah! My mom couldn’t come. So, Mickey brought me!” Miranda looked up at Caleb with shining eyes. Miranda liked Caleb a lot.
“Mike, it’s good to see you again.” Margie was wordlessly directing the twins to put on their coats while struggling to get the baby into his.
Mike smiled. “You, too, Mrs. Masters.”
“Call me Margie, Mike.”
Mike grinned. “Your kids provided some entertainment.”
“Wait until I tell John. Our two oldest are very quiet, but our middle three don’t have any filters. Whatever crosses their minds, falls out of their mouths.”
“It was funny.” Mike looked curious. “Will Rosemary think it’s funny?”
“Probably. After she gets over being embarrassed. Rosemary’s got a great sense of humor, but she prefers to be one of the crowd, rather than be singled out.”
“Rosemary’s too pretty to just be one of the crowd.” Mike said quickly. When he realized what he had said, he reddened.
Margie laughed. “She is a pretty girl, if I do say so myself. She doesn’t have as much confidence as I’d like, but I hope that improves with time.” Margie looked down at Leesa, who was now holding Jared. “I need to get these kiddos to bed. See you later, Mike.”
Miranda fell asleep five minutes after they left the mall parking lot. Mike’s thoughts roamed between the way Rosemary looked in the Grease outfit, and worries about the semi-pro athlete, who looked interested in Rosemary. As soon as Miranda was in bed, Mike called Cruz. When Cruz answered, Mike didn’t say hello. Instead, he blurted out, “I need advice.”
About what?”
“Rosemary.
Cruz laughed. “Man, you haven’t done anything yet?”
“No. Every time I turn around, somebody else is making a play. Tonight, it was a semi-pro basketball player who plays for the Iowa Wolves.”
“You’re a mess, man.”
“I know. I’ve never had trouble before, but this girl is special.”
“You’d better ask her out. Don’t pay any attention to other guys—Rosemary will tell you if she’s interested in somebody else. How did you find out about this other guy, anyway?”
“I took my little sister to Rosemary’s fashion show. This guy was her escort during the show.”
“You went to her fashion show?”
“Yeah. Besides me, Rosemary’s twelve-year old brother was the only guy I saw.”
“The quarterback at the fashion show. That’s an interesting concept.”
“Ha ha.”
Cruz chuckled. “Quit stalling. Ask the girl out. Do something. Somebody’s going to steal her away right out from under your nose if you don’t do something.”
Chapter 23
Mike practically ran t
o Rosemary’s locker before school. He ground his teeth when he realized Mrs. Armstrong was with her. Frustrated, he kept walking towards his first class.
Mike didn’t pay attention to anything in his morning classes; all he thought about was Rosemary. She wasn’t a girl he could play the cool stud with, she wasn’t interested in games. He felt completely out of his element with her.
“Hey.” Mike slid into the chair across from Rosemary at lunch.
“Hi.” Rosemary looked up from her sketch pad. “How are you?”
“Pretty good.” Mike grinned. “Miranda and I enjoyed your fashion show last night.”
Rosemary blushed. “I was surprised to see you there.” Rosemary’s ponytail was brushed smooth. She’d wrapped the pony around a couple of times, so the tail fell just below her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing make-up, but she didn’t need it. Mike wasn’t thrilled to see she was wearing a gray Iowa Wolves hoodie with her jeans.
“Miranda was adamant about seeing you in the show.” Mike shrugged. “Mom had class, but I had the time free, so I took her.” He drained a container of milk. “It was more fun than I expected. The program called you the ‘headlining model.’ That’s pretty cool.”
“I met the organizer a few weeks ago and her headliner had just broken her leg. I signed on to do a total of five shows in the Midwest before early November. It was kind of challenging to schedule but between Ana being accommodating about letting me out of rehearsals and my great-grandfather insisting I use his plane, I was able to make it work.”
Mike nodded. “Are there always guys with you? I mean, like at the end of the show last night?”
“No. That was publicity for the basketball team.”
“Rosemary Bakker?” a girl asked, walking up to stand next to Rosemary.
“Yes?” Rosemary looked up.
“These are for you.” The girl thrust out a wrapped vase of flowers.
“Thanks.” Rosemary set the vase down and stared at it.
“Are you going to open it, or just stare at it?”
