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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #2167789
A woman waiting in a courthouse for her case to get called before the judge.
Rosemary stepped onto the fourth floor of the courthouse. Domestics and Civil, a sign on the wall read. She looked around. It didn’t feel so civil. Her attorney was with another client. A friendly wave and a hand-directed suggestion to sit near courtroom four, was the communication her attorney gave. Rosemary took the suggestion.

She waited while others walked briskly in and out of courts and small conference rooms. She looked at her watch. Thirty minutes. She had come to court entirely too early. That was just like Rosemary. So fucking eager. That’s what had landed her in hot water in the first place.

Her petty crime; she did not realize she could get such a long sentence for such a minor indiscretion. Seven minutes in heaven? Seventeen years in hell.

“At least he was a good provider.” She heard a voice inside her say. She knew that voice. It was mother’s voice; saying the thing she had heard grandmother once say to mother.

Of course he was. His father had the largest insurance company in the State. When they had found out she was pregnant, Ronald was on his fifth year of college. He barely had enough credits to be considered a first semester junior. Of course, that did not stop his father from giving him a Director of Marketing title and a nice office.

He then spent the next seventeen years coasting and not doing shit. Rosemary stopped herself. That was a lie. Motherfucker was damn charming and good at his job.

Rosemary extended her left hand to look at her ring. She still could not remove the two-carat diamond from her polished finger. It was a fine piece of jewelry. Ronald was good at gifts; bad at surprises.

Like the time he surprised her during a party at their house. She had gone downstairs to get more paper products and found him fucking a friend in the storage room. Friends, hers; at least three over the course of their marriage.

Like the time he surprised her with VD.

Liked the time he surprised her son with a fast car. Like the times he allowed her son to have a “drink with dad.” Like the times he taught her son to drive drunk. Like the time…

STOP!

She breathed in through her nose. One, two, three, four, five. Held her breath. One, two, three, four, five. Exhaled. One, two, three, four, five.

She would not grieve Charles. Not like this. Not. Like. This.

She took another breath. One, two, three, four, five. Held the breath. One, two, three, four, five. Exhaled through her nose. One, two, three, four, five.

She would grieve Charles by thinking of all of the good moments they shared together. The road trips Ronald planned for them. The bike rides along linear trail. Crappy Dinner Party Sundays with whichever of their extended group of friends was available to drop by the house.

Yes, she would even remember Ronald’s role in those good times. There were plenty of good times. And, it was in the good times that she had the greatest memories of her son. A double-edged sword; her moments of grief would fill her with the happiest of memories. She could see herself getting addicted to the pain.

“Adoption Day!” A family cheered.

A pretty brunette started talking into a phone. “This is our Facebook live event.”

Rosemary looked at the floor. Adoption day. Maybe she should have considered an adoption day. If she had maybe Charles would still be…

She stopped herself. No. She would never have given Charles up. He was the perfect baby. He was her baby. She closed her eyes and saw his beautiful face.

Dark bushy eyebrows, great hair, full lips and perfect teeth. Those had been her gifts to him. Love of music and dancing. Zest for life. He had gained all of the best features of her Puerto Rican heritage.

And, he had gained some of the worst features of her Puerto Rican heritage as well… Reckless, daring, and her father’s machista attitude. Those had been the other attributes he had gained from her as well.

No. She shook her head. It did not matter that her father was a machista and Latino. Ronald was a machista and he was not Latino. Scratch the surface of any man and you’d find someone interested in maintaining a position of privilege.

“I’m a man, sweetheart.” He would say to her. Some man.

She looked around. Ronald wasn’t here. Of course he wasn’t. He was not going to show up. He had never shown up for their marriage. Why should he show up for the end of it?

Rosemary wondered what her time moving forward would be like. She had been a child, just out of high school, when she married Ronald at 19. She became a mother at 20. Now at 37, she was going to be single and childless. She had never learned who she was. Now, she was losing everything that she had ever been.

Rosemary stood up. She did not need to be thinking like this. Not like this.

She inhaled through her nose; one, two, three, four, & five. Held the breath for one, two, three, four, & five. Exhaled through her nose; one, two, three, four, & five.

She found a restroom. The lighting was horrible but at least there was a full-length mirror. She wore navy pants with a matching jacket. A crisp white shirt underneath and her favorite scarf, the one purchased in Paris, completed her outfit of choice to commemorate the end of her past.

Rosemary was ready to get regain her freedom. She would do great things with it. Reformed, she would never take her life for granted. Herself. Not ever again.

Rosemary had dreamt of being a star when she was younger. She had wanted to see her name on television and in magazines. She could have done it too. The time had passed for that but she had other interests.

Travel. She really enjoyed travel. Ronald had taught her to enjoy it. Her first order of business was to take a trip with her sister. Rosemary was excited to reconnect. Working at her in-law’s insurance company, she had always been given liberal time for travel. Since, she was married to Ronald. Of course, she had never taken advantage of it. She had, for example, never gone on a girls’ trip with her sister. She would do that now.

She returned to find her attorney ready to escort her into court. They waited for the judge to appear. Answer the questions, she had been told. Confirm the agreement.

“All rise.”

Rosemary watched the judge sit on his perch. She was motioned to the witness stand.

She raised her right hand. “I do.” She responded when asked about telling the truth. But could she? Could she tell the truth about her relationship? Did she herself even know it?

She knew her version of it. She knew that Ronald did love her… at one point. But why he was like that? She didn’t know the truth about that. She knew her hand in it. She knew that she acquiesced dignity for security. She knew that both were now ready to move on. She hoped that she didn’t agree to live in a golden cage for no reason other than because it was pretty? That one, she would have to discover later.

Rosemary remembered the words of her mother, “you do the crime; you pay the time.”

What had been her crime anyway? Giving her virginity up to a frat boy who did not believe in condoms. She would not beat herself up about this. No more. Rosemary knew it was time; time for her to get out. She would call it… early release for good behavior.

“I filed.” She looked at the judge’s face. She wondered if he was a parent. “Incompatibility.” She responded.

She braced herself for the question that was about to come. “Yes. But he died. There are no other children under the age of majority. No other children period.”

The judge looked down at his hands. He was a parent. She knew the discomfort he felt because it was the same discomfort with which every parent now approached her.

“Yes, the agreement is fair, just, and equitable.” She responded.

Rosemary had been surprised by that fact. After Charles had died and Ronald was recuperating, she had expected the family to rally around him. Especially after Charles’s funeral where she had been poisoned by grief; “he’s dead and it’s on you.” She blamed Ronald; threw it in his face.

Ronald, forced by his family, had agreed to give her their personal home, continued use of their family’s vacation homes, and 10% of the current worth of his trust in addition to 50% of all of the property she and Ronald held jointly.

“Mami, you landed in the big house.” Her mom joked after she told her that she felt that marriage was like a prison. Of course, she hadn’t told her why, she hadn’t said a thing about Ronald’s indiscretions.

“Thank you, your honor.” Rosemary said after the judge wished her luck.

Rosemary stepped out into the hallway. Her seventeen-year sentence had finally been commuted. Ready for freedom she had not asked for; she walked out a childless mother and an ex-wife. She walked out a woman ready to be for herself. Rosemary’s time was now her own.







© Copyright 2018 Amada Addair (gabrielaa3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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