# Garden of Rosa Ending 4

Garden of Rosa
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Ending 4
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Imagine if you would…
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Actually, no. You don’t need to imagine anything this time. This ending is about the Anon and Rosa you’ve read about; about the tender but passionate love of two teenagers realizing their place in the world. The love of two people from different worlds, who, through plot contrivance or fate or whatever you wish to call it, managed to make it after all. Many of you may say it’s foolish for people so young to experience something like this, that it would never last. And maybe it won’t; maybe, in a year, or two, or ever ten, Anon and Rosa will realize they rushed into things, that they jumped into their relationship before checking to see how deep the waters truly ran. But what is important, is that they jumped. They took a risk on themselves and each other, and with hands held tightly together, they leapt into their future, comfortable that even if it didn’t last, they still would have their memories.
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So, remember this, dear reader: Sometimes it is better to jump into the shallows with a friend, than to swim in the depths alone.
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***
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The day of the wedding has finally arrived. After a whirlwind of planning and preparation that occupied the last year of my life, it was finally time to seal my promise that I made to Rosa on that sparkling hilltop, the promise I made to her with her favorite flower.
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The intervening months hadn’t been easy, either. After graduation, I managed to land a summer job at Dino-Moe’s, the kindly old T-Rex thankful for the help I had given to his favorite “niece”. Rosa likewise found summer employment, working at the arboretum as a part-time tour guide and activity coordinator. It became harder and harder for us to spend time together, and we cherished what few nights we could get alone together. Although Rosa still was adamant about the whole, “no sex before marriage” thing, she played fast and loose with the definition of sex for a supposedly devout Catholic girl. Every time I helped Rosa sneak home, stealing into her room at an hour that what Trish called “real trigga’ hours”, I could swear that I heard a creak of floorboards coming from down the hall, where her parents slept.
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Rosa’s parents had been overjoyed to her of our engagement, throwing yet another large party for the extended family. They even invited my own parents, eager to welcome their future son-in-law’s family into their own, to no avail. It seemed like my parents had nothing to do with me, their shameful “dino-chaser” son. Rosa’s mom did not take this well, her progressing sickness having already confined her to a wheelchair most days, launching into an angry tirade of Spanish after the second week of no response. After that, she took it upon herself to mother me even more than she already had, inviting me over for dinner nearly every night until the wedding proper. Or maybe she was just trying to keep an eye on us.
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But, back to the wedding. It seems the old adage was true: There really was nothing more useless than a groom on his wedding day. I wandered the halls of the old mission-style church that Rosa had picked out for us to the wedded in, my hands brushing the old stucco of the walls. Naser was with me, as was Reed, I having selected them both to be my best man for this, the happiest day of my life. Reed even had promised to stay sober for the occasion! Well, maybe just the ceremony. Naser had actually played a huge part in helping me plan, taking me out shopping for suits and ties and whatever else I was supposed to wear.
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“I know I’ve said it before Anon, but congratulations dude, really.” Naser clapped me on the shoulder, a huge grin splitting his face. “I knew you and Rosa would make it!”
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“Indeed Anon, I wish you and your new bride many happy returns.” Sober Reed was taking some getting used to, for sure.
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“Thanks, both of you,” I said, gripping each of their shoulders in response. An unspoken word passed between the three of us, a moment shared only between a groom and his best men. “I know I don’t say this enough, but I couldn’t have done this without either of you.” I had hoped the emphasis I placed on my words let them know I didn’t just mean today. They seemed to understand, though; Naser quickly turning away, wiping what was of course dust from his eye, Reed grasping my hand in an iron grip of thanks.
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“Anon?” A voice from behind me caught my attention. Our wedding coordinator, a spinstery-looking plateosaur who knew some relative of Rosa’s, stood at the doorway to the hall, clutching a clipboard to her chest. “It’s time, you guys.” Turning back to my two best men, we shared one final hug between us before heading towards the door, the coordinator holding me back for a quick private word.
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“Feeling okay, Anon? No wedding jitters?” The woman seemed convinced at times I would run out at the last minute, leaving Rosa standing at the altar. I fixed her with the most convincing smile I could manage, the one that could put even Rosa’s mother at ease.
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“There’s no place I would rather be.”
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“Good. Now you know how this is going to go: First up is Reed and Stella, followed by Naser and Fang. Then, you and-“
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“I know, I know: Then me and Rosa’s mo… I mean, me and Lucretia.” It still felt strange, calling her by her real name. She would always be Rosa’s mom, to me. She had promised to accompany me down the aisle, my own mother having failed to show.
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“Just making sure, just making sure.” We could hear the music starting to rise, heralding the start of the ceremony. “Okay, get in there Anon. And congratulations, to the both of you.” Pulling me into a quick hug, she ushered me into the entrance of the hall, where Reed was already escorting Stella down the aisle. The rest of the party waiting in front of those open double-doors, through which I could see the guests on their feet. Fang gave me a quick smile, resplendent in her red bride’s maid dress. I wonder what would’ve happened between us, had I not been with Rosa…
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“Having second thoughts, Anon?” Rosa’s mom – Lucretia – fixed me with her patented Mom glare, arching one finely sculpted eyebrow towards me. The wheelchair did little to dull that razor-sharp glare, and I quickly banished any thoughts of Fang and I together from my mind.
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“No, uh, Lucretia,” I stammered, tripping over her real name. I took hold of her chair, pushing her towards the door as Naser and Fang started their walk towards the head of the church.
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“Anon, about this name thing. I don’t want you using that, okay?” Her voice was quiet, pitched for only me ears. I could feel myself begin to sweat, long-silenced alarms beginning to ring in my head. Had I misjudged our relationship that bad? “Call me Mom, instead.”
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I couldn’t help but smile, wheeling Rosa’s mom – my Mom – down the aisle. Leaning down, I whispered in her ear, a private word shared between adoptive mother and son. “You got it, Mom.”
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[Anon’s song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-e16OHgss5E&ab_channel=AnthonyYoung]
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I can feel the eyes of every one of our guests boring into me as I reach the end of aisle at last. Leaning down, I hug Mom with everything I’ve got, hoping that this simple embrace conveys the magnitude of my thanks. Thanks not just for tonight, or for accepting me fully into their family; but for everything she’s done for me and Rosa over the months. Lucretia hugs me back, and as one of Rosa’s brothers wheels her to the place of honor at the head of aisle, I can see her already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
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Flashing my four friends – Fang, Stella, Reed, and Naser – a huge smile, I take my place in front of the priest, a doddering old ankylosaur who looks to be one foot in the grave already. This was another means by which Rosa and I could afford such a luxurious wedding: By using as many family members of Rosa’s as possible. I guess this old fossil was a distant uncle or something, flown in special just for this occasion. Truth be told, I was a little apprehensive about a Catholic ceremony in the first place, but Rosa insisted we do things properly.
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But none of that matters now, as the music begins to swell once more. The entire hall knows what this means, the guests getting to their feet and facing the entrance in giddy anticipation. I can’t help but smile along with them, knowing that any second, I’ll get my first glimpse of…
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Oh.
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Oh wow.
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She’s…!
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Slowly gliding gracefully down the aisle, Rosa is a simply the most beautiful thing in the world. Her dress is a gorgeous strapless satin gown, the glossy silk molding to every curve of her body. White stiletto heels peak out from beneath her dress, the hem of which is bedecked in delicate embroidered wildflowers, the very same ones which Rosa loves so much. A magnificent crown of roses sits on Rosa’s head, her brilliant auburn hair cascading down one shoulder in a waterfall of thick curls. Even without the dress, Rosa herself was resplendent, crimson eyes twinkling at me over a smile big enough for the entire world. I hardly noticed her dad next to her until he kissed her on her cheek, tears unabashedly running down his face as he took his seat next to his wife.
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Rosa took her place opposite of me on the dais, handing Stella her multi-colored bouquet of roses. As she turned, my already boggling eyes threatened to pop out of my head: Rosa’s entire dress was backless, the material only just surrounding her tail. Dear god, whoever made this fantastic feat of haute couture, thank you…
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A sharp “ahem” from the priest sent a ripple of giggles through the assembled wedding party, Fang catching her face-palm at the last second. I could feel my face grow flushed as I realized just what they were laughing at.
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“Mumbling again, mi amor?” Rosa whispered, her eyes flashing with mirth as she gives my hands a squeeze.
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I’ve really got to get a handle on that.
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The surprising strong voice of the priest quieted the last remains of our laughter, signaling the start of the ceremony proper. “If we may begin…”
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***
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After what felt like hours, Rosa and I were finally released, sprinting down the aisle in a hail of rice and flower petals before being whisked away to our newlywed duties. Seems a Catholic ceremony really does take as long as you would expect. Neither of us could help but grin, however, our sore feet and hunger stomachs ultimately proving insignificant against our overwhelming happiness. As we posed for picture after picture out on the church lawn, Rosa and I couldn’t help but burst into laughter every few minutes, faces sore from smiling.
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“Oh, mi amor, that was so wonderful!” Rosa chattered excitedly, leaning her head on my shoulder and placing her hand on my chest for the next round of pictures. Faint music from the church’s reception hall filtered over to us, Reed having taken on dee-jay duties for the wedding as well. I made him promise to limit the number of VVURM DRAMA tracks; this was a wedding, not some pizza-parlor. “And you vows, they were so sweet! An-on, I never knew you could be so thoughtful.”
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“Well, I had some help,” I replied through the side of my mouth, keeping my smile frozen for the camera. “Okay, a lot of help. Stella basically wrote most of it.”
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“Ah, so that’s why I was ‘super-kawaii’, hmm?” Shit, I was hoping she would’ve missed that part. Chuckling, Rosa placed her lips near my ear, within easy distance of a cheek-kiss, should the photographer request it. “You’ll have to make that one up to me, An-on…” I just barely managed to resist yelping as Rosa squeezed my ass, her other hand hidden from the photographer’s lens. Seizing her “And remember, we’re esposo y esposa, now; no more playing around in the bedroom.” Oh man. I could barely manage to keep my head through the rest of the pictures, Rosa taking delight in teasing me when no one was looking. The torture didn’t end with the photographer, either: Rosa was insatiable throughout dinner as well, her hand creeping up my thigh underneath the table, until… Well-wishers and guests all around us, I could only smile and grit me teeth, thankful that the tablecloths hid what was going on.
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Dancing, at least, provided a reprieve from Rosa’s amorous advancements. With all eyes on us as we took to the dance floor, Rosa mercifully kept her hands above my waistline as we rotated to Rosa’s chosen song, a sad acoustic rendition of her favorite Latin ballad. It felt nice, having Rosa on my shoulder as we swayed to the music; what felt even better was the knowledge that we were making this song our own, permanently forging a new bond between us. But isn’t that what marriage was for?
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Except for sitting out the traditional mother-son dance, I managed to stay out on the dance floor the whole night, doing my best not to embarrass my new wife as Reed started into more upbeat pop numbers. To his credit, Reed put on a good show: The more experimental tracks he had chosen blended well, satisfying even Fang as she bounced along to the tempo. In the final slow song, played just before most of the older guests had gone home, I actually found myself dancing with Fang, Rosa having taken this opportunity to dance with her aged grandfather.
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“I’m happy for you, dweeb,” Fang said, her hands knotted behind my neck. “You and Rosa really do belong together.”
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Grinning, I glanced over to where Rosa was rotating slowly with a wrinkled old ankylosaur in an outdated suit, manly tears flowing down the older gentlemen’s face. “Thanks Fang. That means a lot, coming from you. I’m serious!” I added, as Fang snorted and rolled her eyes. “After all we’ve been through, how could your opinion not matter?”
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Fang’s face reddened as she glanced shyly up at me. “So what are you and Rosa going to do? Are you, like, going to college together, or…” Fang’s voice trailed off, her question hanging in the air between us.
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“I don’t know, really.” Studying the celling of the dance floor, I contemplated where my life with Rosa would take me. “Rosa’s got this program she wants to attend, about plants or something. Maybe I’ll follow her there.”
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“Well…” Fang pulled me into a hug, her soft wings suddenly encompassing us both in a soft blanket. It was so intimate, the two of us sealed off from the rest of the world behind a curtain of grey feathers. “Whatever you decided to do, promise you won’t forget about me, Anon. Okay?”
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Moving my hands off her waist, I hug Fang back, feeling something wet against my cheek.
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“I’ll never forget you, Fang. I promise.”
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***
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-Nine Months later-
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“That’s it, Rosa, just push! Push! A little more!”
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The harsh lights of our hospital room highlighted the sweat beading on Rosa’s forehead. Her once luxurious hair lay damp with sweat, splattered across her face as if from a careless painter’s brush. Screwing her face up for another push, Rosa squeezed my hand, the other one clasped around the bed’s railing. Nurses in mint-green scrubs crowded around us, each monitoring a different part of Rosa’s vitals. At the foot of the bed, partially obscured by the sheets, the doctor guided her through her breathing, providing her own words of encouragement.
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“¡¿Ayyyy, An-on, cuánto más de esto !? Rosa’s voice was tight through gritted teeth, panting as she ran through her breathing exercises. Although the immeasurable about of pain Rosa was in twisted her mouth in a scowl, she never once squeezed my hand with more pressure than I could bear.
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“Just a little more babe, that’s it! Push!” Screaming, Rosa gave it one more push, the excited chatter of the doctor egging her on.
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Finally, amid Rosa’s screams and the beeping and whirling of various hospital monitoring equipment, there rose a new noise, small at first but growing with intensity with each second. Normally, this sound would agonize or annoy most people, but to Rosa and me, it was the most wonderful sound in the world, a representation of our love: The shrill, tiny cry of our newborn daughter.
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Quickly wiping her down and wrapping her up, the doctor handed Rosa our bundle of joy. Letting go of my hand at last, Rosa cradled our daughter in her arms, weeping happily between attempts to soothe our chubby little baby. At that moment, despite looking like she had just dunked her head in a bucket of her own sweat, Rosa was at her most beautiful, her face illuminated with the unmistakable love of a mother.
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“What’s her name, you two?” The voice of a nurse, pen poised over her paperwork, caught my attention. Rosa was too enamored to respond, but I knew what she wanted, what we both wanted.
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“Her name is Camellia Lucretia Meltrozo Mous,” I said, beaming with the pride of a new father.
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Rosa’s voice was weak, a soft whisper that only I and our new daughter could hear. “And your grandmother would’ve loved you very, very much.”
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***
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The kitchen window of our new house gives me a spectacular view of the sunrise as I linger before it. My mug, filled to the brim with the life-affirming nectar that is coffee, bears upon its surface the two tiny footprints of an infant. A similar mug sits on the shelf above me, never to be used, the tiny painted feet belonging to my wife. Next to that mug sits a framed picture of our familia: Rosa, Camellia and I at the gazebo, commemorating our daughter’s first birthday with cake and balloons in her mother’s favorite spot.
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“So, An-on, how do I look?” Rosa’s voice turns me away from the view. Her usual clothes have been replaced with a white blouse and black pencil skirt, a student ID badge clipped to her waist. I can see she’s nervous about her new look, used to a more comfortable outfit that was at home in the garden. She twirls her hair nervously around one finger, only enhancing how attractive she is to me.
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“Hmm…” Sipping my coffee gives me an excuse to study her outfit more, and I can’t help but smile at how well she wears it. The skirt is relatively conservative, reaching down to her knees, but damn if it doesn’t hug her hips well. Loosen the top few buttons on that blouse, and she’d be the very model of a modern married mistress. “Looks good Rosa, but isn’t it a little fancy for your first day of school?”
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“Not just school, An-on!” Rosa plants her fists on her hips, that all-too familiar bossy look crinkling her eyes. “It’s college! The most important part of my life, and I do no want to look bad!”
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“I know babe, I’m just teasing.” I still loved how easy I could get her goat, all these years later. “But aren’t you going to be learning about habitat conservation and plants and shit? Are the heels really necessary?”
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“It’s just classwork for now, An-on. Fieldwork isn’t for a few more weeks.” Rosa flips a small compact mirror open, checking her hair one last time before throwing it back into her purse. I hand her a travel coffee mug, the liquid still steaming out of the top. As she opens the lid to blow on the near-boiling brew within, she gives me a half-smile, lowering her eyes knowingly. “Besides, if you’re good, maybe I wear these heels tonight, si?”
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Sputtering, I choke on my own coffee. Rosa unsuccessfully suppresses a fit of laughter, giggling behind her hands as she tests the temperature of her mug. As I attempt to soothe my scalded airwaves, Rosa glances towards the only other picture in our kitchen, a metal-framed photo hung proudly on the wall by the entrance. It’s a great shot of her mother, sitting and laughing in Rosa’s childhood kitchen, surrounded by her friends and family. It was a wedding gift from Mom, a promise that she would always be a part of our lives, even after she passed.
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“Do you think she would be proud of me, An-on?” Rosa’s face is serene, but I can see the sadness in her eyes. Her father promised the family farm was in good hands, but leaving home still nagged at Rosa. She was always a family girl at heart, and moving out of her childhood home had been hard for her.
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Coughing lightly, I bundle up Rosa from behind in a hug, wrapping my arms around her stomach and kissing her neck. “Rosa, I know she would be proud of you. Hell, even a year out of high-school, they still offered you a full scholarship!” Rosa relaxes her body against mine, twisting her head so we could share a brief kiss. “Anyways, we both know the only reason I got in was due to need. You’re the brains in this family, mi amor.”
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Rosa rolls her eyes, smiling as she moves to gather her keys from the kitchen counter. Packing them into her purse, she spins towards me, wagging a finger exaggeratedly “An-on, do no say such things! You know what I said about joking about that.”
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“What? No sex for a week?”
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“¡Si! And I mean it this time!” I can tell by the way she’s blushing that there was no way she meant it. She was an animal in the bedroom, as insatiable as the day we were married. Hell, she was already talking about having another kid! Grinning over the lip of my mug, I waggle my eyebrows furiously at her, eliciting another giggle.
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Yep, no way she meant it.
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Almost as if on cue, a shrill cry echoes from Camellia’s room. Finishing up my coffee, I wave Rosa aside, already heading down the hall. The pastel-pink nursery was covered in hand-painted murals, Rosa’s neat and scientifically accurate flowers rubbing side-by-side with my garish cartoon animals. Camellia was already settling down, the little peach-colored dino tike burbling happily at the sight of me. I couldn’t help but smile as I gather my daughter in my arms, bouncing her up and down as we rejoined Rosa in the entry way.
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“You’ll get her to Papa today, si?” Rosa was checking and re-checking the contents of her purse, no doubt nervous for her first day. Her voice started to increase in speed, too. “There’s some leftover chilies rellenos in the fridge as well. Remember, you’ve got to drop her off before her nap this afternoon, An-on. Oh, and don’t forget to-”
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“I know Rosa.” Turning to Camellia, I pretend-nibble her horns, a surefire way to make her laugh. “Cammy, can you say, ‘Momma worries too much?’” Rosa’s eyes light up, the sight of the two of us soothing her mood. Rosa could never stay anxious when Cammy laughed like that. As I bring our daughter over, Rosa peppers her with kisses, causing the laughter to reach super-sonic levels. “Seriously Rosa, your family’s got this. And you’re gonna’ do great today.” Holding Rosa by the cheek, I give her a deep kiss, the same way I have done ever since we got together. “I know it.”
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Rosa takes my hand in hers, snuggling against it tenderly. Her crimson eyes stared at us lovingly, full of affection and admiration only a mother and a wife could give. Smiling back at her, I wonder just how often I found myself starting into those beautiful eyes, watching her slowly fall asleep in the bed or napping on the couch with Camellia on her chest. How many times did I make sure my smile was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep?
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“Oh! Before you go, Rosa…” Withdrawing my hand from Rosa’s cheek, I fish awkwardly in my pocket, careful not to disturb Camellia. Finally, I manage to extract what I was looking for: A small hinged wooden box that sits comfortably in the palm of my hand. “I think you need one more thing to complete your outfit.” It takes some finesse, but I manage to flip the lid of the box open and hold it with the same hand, revealing a small diamond ring nestled inside. “When you said yes to me, that night on the hill, I couldn’t afford a real ring. But now that we’ve got some money, I figured…” My voice faltered when I caught Rosa’s expression: She was covering her mouth, thick tears welling in her eyes. Damnit, now you’re gonna make me cry!
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Fanning herself in a feeble attempt to keep the tears at bay, Rosa held out a trembling hand, her ring finger separated. I let my own tears fall as they would, bending awkwardly to hold the box and my daughter in one hand as I slipped the ring on with the other. It fits Rosa perfectly, thanks to my secret attempts to gage her ring size with a bit of old string. For a heartbeat, I hold Rosa by the hand before releasing, letting her admire the ring on her finger. Shoot, wasn’t I supposed to kneel down, or something?
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“Oh An-on, it’s beautiful,” Rosa murmurs, examining the ring. Laughing, Rosa leans over to fish a tissue out of her purse, laughing as she dabs at her eyes. “Ay, An-on! You made me ruin my make-up!”
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“I guess I get you for a little while longer then,” I said, dabbing a few of my own tears away. Camellia merely glances between us, unable to figure why her parents were getting so weepy, and no doubt wondering if she should start crying too. Smiling, Rosa plants a kiss on my forehead, the added height of her heels making it easy to do so.
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“Oh, mi amado esposo… You always will.”
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***
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The evening sun is roasting as Rosa and I make our way towards our old school, making us both the formal wear we donned for tonight. A line of former students already trails out of the entrance, the twenty-something chatting excitedly as we joined the back of the line.
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“Hey, it’s been so long!”
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“Only five years bro, that’s, like, nothing!”
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Rosa gives my hand a squeeze as I attempt to press myself into what little shade I can find. I never did like the summer heat of this place, and with this jacket on, I feel like I’m about to melt at any moment.
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“Aww, poor An-on! I told you you would be too hot in this sun.” I can’t decide if Rosa’s tone is mocking or sympathizing as I mop my brow with the back of one hand. She herself looks perfectly cool in her two-tone black and red dress, a small bloom of her favorite flower tucked behind her ear. “The line is moving so we will no have to wait long, at least.” The assembled mass of former classmates is indeed shuffling along quickly, each of them no doubt eager to get the night started.
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“Yooo, is that you guys? Hey, Anon, Rosa!” We both immediate recognize that voice, the drugged-out drawl unmistakable. A pink raptor in comically oversized shades trots up to us, seemingly unaware of the heat despite his thick woolen hoodie. “Broooooo, it’s been too long!”
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“Hey, Reed, what’s going on?
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“¡Hola Reed! Dios Mío Reed, what happened?!” Rosa’s mouth was agape as she took in our old friend. Reed’s clothes were tattered and worn, riddled with holes and wrinkled as if Reed had slept in them every day since graduation. Even his barred sunglasses were worse for wear, several of the bars having noticeable cracks.
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“What? Oh, you’re checking out muh’ digs, man!” Reed shoots us his most winning smile, tossing two thumbs up. “It’s all the style over at Silica Valley, man.”
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“Wait, Silica Valley?” I interject, just now noticing the expensive watch on Reed’s wrist, how those torn jeans were a brand I knew I could never afford. “You live there? How’d you afford that?”
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“Bro, I’m like, the richest raptor in the world! CEO of my own start-up, been getting heavily into the snootcoin market too. It all started with…” Reed proceeds to regale us with a bunch of tech-gibberish, too specific even for my own understand. All that I gather is that despite his ramshackle appearance, Reed is loaded. “…And then they made me their king, dude.” Rosa and I nod, sharing a bemused look between us. “So, what have the two of you been up to?”
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“Oh, not much, man. Rosa got her degree in Environmental Science over at Volcaldera State, me in Business-“
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Rosa interjects, beaming with pride as she rubs my shoulder. “Mi marido is very smart, Reed. Maybe you two should go into business together!”
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“Bro, that would be, like, fuckin’ sweet! Let’s talk numbers sometimes, I’ll have my guy call your guy and us guys can-“ I hold up my hand, knowing I need to stop this train before it gets going.
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“Sounds great Reed, but can we talk inside? I’m dying out here, man.”
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We quickly move along to the gymnasium, catching back up with the line. The sight of our old prom venue brings me back, a wash of happy memories flooding my brain. It all looks so strange; the familiar walls covered in different school posters, updated sports rosters. In a lot of ways, the old school hasn’t changed a bit.
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“This really takes you back, huh bro?” Reed clapped me on the back, gesturing to the sign-in table. “Let’s get penciled in; can’t get drinks without it!” Spurred on by the prospect of talking to old high-school classmates without alcohol, we practically stampede towards the table, a familiar sight waiting for us there like a salmon Stepford wife.
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“Oh! Hi Anon, Hi Rosa! So glad you could make it!” Naomi’s voice hasn’t quite lost its saccharine edge, but the years have dulled it slightly. The former tangerine torturer sported a decided “Mom” look, her light-purple sweater matching with her blue top and comfortable jeans. Frowning, she fixes Reed with a frosty glare, sniffing as Reed signs in as ‘Sir-Dicks-a-Lot’. “Reed. Nice to see you haven’t changed one bit.”
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Reed shoots Naomi a finger-gun, slapping his name-tag upside-down on her chest with the other hand. “Nope!” Waving to Rosa and I, Reed slipped off towards where the bar has been set up, leaving the three of us to chat.
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“So, Naomi, how are you? Did you and Naser ever…?” Rosa gives Naomi a mischievous smile, her innuendo spoiled somewhat by the hand gesture Rosa flashes. Naomi’s face falls, her sad eyes falling to the floor.
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“Actually, Naser and I aren’t together anymore.” Rosa lays an apologetic hand on Naomi’s shoulder, murmuring a quiet apology.
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“What happened? If it’s not too much to say.” I add quickly under Rosa’s withering glare.
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“Oh, we grew apart in college, and by the time he graduated it just wasn’t there anymore. I think he’s with someone named Olivia, now.” Naomi manages to pull her eyes from her shoes at last, attempting to wear a decidedly fixed smile. “But, it’s for the best! I’m actually seeing someone else, now.”
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“Ay, see Naomi? It do no always work out the way you expect, but it always works out, si?” Wait, why did Rosa look at ME when she said that?
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Naomi’s smile grew a little warmer, her momentary spell of melancholy already a thing of the past. “You’re right, Rosa! Just look at you and Anon, how happy you are! You two enjoy the party tonight, and thanks!” Rosa ushered me quickly away from the table, steering me towards where Reed was attempting to convince the bartender to mix every type of alcohol together at once.
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“What did she mean, ‘look at you and Anon’? Rosa?” My wife just smiled at me, shaking her head as she took my hand.
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“Oh An-on, what Naomi did in the past is in the past, si? Come on, let’s enjoy the party!” Planting me squarely next to Reed, Rosa orders us all drinks, the bartender nodding along to her rapid Spanish. Reed immediately begins talking my ear off again, laying out his latest business venture and imploring me to get in on the ground floor. Desperate for anything to talk about besides work, I spot a small purple figure making her way through the crowd, waving my one-time doxxer over.
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“Trish! Hey, over here! Man, it’s good to see you again!” Trish and I embrace as she joins us at the bar, our personal axe long buried. Trish is looking decidedly business-like in a sharp black skirt and blazer, her professional look marred only somewhat by the numerous engravings and piercings her horns have acquired over the years.
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“Anon, it’s good to see you again. And you Rosa!” The two women share a hug, and I can’t help but notice how much Rosa has Trish beat in the, ahem, chest area now. I thank Raptor Jesus once more for the effects of Rosa’s pregnancy, being VERY careful not to mumble. “Man, if I look that good after pumpin’ out a kid, I’ll be the luckiest woman in the world.”
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“It’s so good to see you Trish! Si, being a mother has made me so happy, I would no trade it for anything.” Trish takes a seat on the other side of Rosa, flagging the bartender down.
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I lean in to whisper in Rosa’s ear, careful to keep my face neutral. “I don’t think she meant it that way, babe.”
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“Oh? What does she mean, An-on? Trish, what is he talking about?” Trish only shakes her head, the two of us sharing a smile at Rosa’s behalf. The four of us quickly get to catching up, swapping stories of our lives since graduating Volcano High, and before long it’s like we’re back in high-school once more. The only person missing is…
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“Lucy!” Rosa, Reed, and Trish shout, downing out my intonation of ‘Fang!’. We all raise a glass as the final member of our teenage troupe finally joins us, sharing a three-way hug with Rosa and Trish as Reed and I get up to join them.
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“Ugh, Anon, I told you to stop calling me that!” Fang rolls her eyes, sharing a brief hug with me before Reed catapults into her. Fang’s adapted to her new role as music teacher well, her brown turtle-neck and slacks a far-cry from the rebellious teenage rocker I once knew. “Okay, Reed, yep, I see you there, thanks.” Reed finally let Fang go, stumbling back to his stool before ordering another round. Good lore, how much has he had?
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“Nah, you’ll always be Fang to me. You wanna’ stay with us for a drink, Fang?” I ask, placing special emphasis on her one-time name. Fang groans once more, smiling even as she covers her eyes behind her hand. Rosa scoots a little closer to me, sipping on her drink as our hands find each other by our sides.
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“Maybe just one, I’ve got to keep this thing running and everything.”
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“Sounds rough. How’d they saddle you with that job, anyways?” Trish asks, chasing her straw around the lip of her glass.
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“Si, weren’t you the new music teacher?”
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“I’m still a teaching assistant,” Fang clarifies, graciously accepting a proffered drink from the bartender. “Mr. Jingo should be close to retiring, so after that, I’ll be the music teacher. Until then I’m stuck doing everything no one else wants to do, like overseeing a bunch of drunk former students.” Sipping her drink, Fang rolls her eyes at Reed, where the perhaps-CEO is rapidly becoming too drunk to order anything more. “Speaking of…” Fang excuses herself from the group, leaving her half-finished drink on a table before taking the stage to give the closing speech, tapping the microphone to get everyone’s attention.
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“Alright everyone, thank you for coming tonight. I’m sure everyone had a good time…” Reed interrupts at this moment with a loud drunken hurrah, spilling what’s left of his last call, causing Fang to roll her eyes once more. “…But, unfortunately, tonight can’t last forever. Please start finding your DD’s or taking one of the taxis that we have on-call for you. Thank you.” Fang replaces the mic on the stand before jumping off, shuffling through the thinning crowd back to us. Meanwhile, Trish has managed to get Reed into an upright position, half-dragging him off his barstool and to his feet.
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“Alright, it’s been fun but I better this asshole home before he hurts himself.” Trish begins escorting the near-comatose raptor to the door, following the mass of other students. “We should do this again, though! Hanging out, I mean, not getting drunk off our asses.” Glancing over her shoulder, Trish gives one final wave, leaving Rosa, Fang and I alone at the bar.
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“I do no understand how Reed managed to start his own company, when he acts like that!” Rosa sipped the last of her drink, shaking her head sadly in Reed and Trish’s direction.
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“I guess some things never change, huh?” Fang expertly vaults over the now-unsupervised bar, clearing out what’s left in the mini-fridge. “Anyways, I’ve got to start clearing this place up. You two are welcome to stay, if you like.”
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“Does clearing up entail taking all the leftover alcohol home?” I grin over my drink, Fang flashing me the finger as she stuffs mini-bottles of liquor into a plastic bag. “Hey, just leave us some and your secret is safe with us.”
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Rosa glances up at me, fluttering her eyelashes pleadingly. “An-on, how about we go see the gardens? For old times’ sake?” Damnit, she knows I can’t resist her when she puts on those puppy-dog eyes.
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“Good idea Rosa! The students have made a few changes since you left, but the gardens are still in good hands.”
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“¿Qué? Lucy has an interest in gardening?” Fang’s reddening face reveals Rosa hit the nail on the head. Joyfully, Rosa claps her hands together, her face beaming with delight. “Oooh, this is so exciting! Lucy, you have to come over sometime! I can teach you all about soil retention and crop rotation and-“
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Fang throws up her fingers in a make-shift crucifix, recoiling. “Anon. Please. Save me!”
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“Alright Rosa, leave the poor girl alone. Here, let’s see the gardens!”
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“Aww, but I was just-“
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“I know, babe, I know. Maybe this weekend?” I raise a questioning eyebrow back towards Fang, who nods in assent. Waving, we leave Fang alone to “clean” out the bar, pushing open a side door and stepping into the night. The moonlight coupled with the lamps on the side of the school gives enough light for us to navigate our way around back, to the school’s familiar gardens, Rosa slipping her arms around mine as we walk.
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Sighing, Rosa leans her head against my shoulder. “Ahh, what a lovely evening… So nice to see everyone, wasn’t it An-on?” I nod, leaning my own head against Rosa’s. And getting a sharp poke in return. Ow. “Mi amor, how many times do I have to say it?” I can just barely see Rosa’s smirk in the twilight. I never can remember the horns.
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“S’not fair, you have a natural defense against cuddling.”
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“That has no stopped you before, hmmm?” Rosa gives a little shiver, the heat of the day rapidly diminishing now that the sun has gone down. I lend her my jacket, wrapping my arms around her for extra warmth. It’s nice, walking these paths with Rosa once more. It brings back memories of those awkward times in high-school, of us holding hands in the halls as we walked to class. Before long, we reach the gardens, the recognizable shapes of well-trimmed bushes and flower beds still visible in the darkness. We stroll along, glancing at the new growths set down by this year’s freshman class, the neat orderly rows of bulbs not fit to bloom for several more years.
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“You’re awfully quiet, An-on. Something wrong?
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“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just remember the good ol’ days.” I squeeze Rosa tightly, feeling her press against me, sighing happily. “Do you remember this spot, maybe a few weeks after I moved here? You almost kissed me, right there.” I point to a spot in the gardens where Rosa and I had our first near-kiss experience, grinning at the flood of happy memories.
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“¿Disculpe? I think it was you who almost kissed me, An-on.” Rosa begins stroking my arm around her waist, and I can feel her tail swinging happily between my legs. “Oooh, I was so nervous. Here was this cute new chico in school, and you were so concerned about me and my flowers. Such a gentlemen!” Rosa hooked her tail around my leg, something she only did when she was truly, blissfully happy. “I wanted you to kiss me, though. I wanted it so badly, but you were too cute and awkward to do it!”
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“Is that right?” I turn Rosa around in my arms until we’re standing face to face, a blossoming of pink spread across her face. It was so cute how she still blushed when she looked at me… “Well, I’m not so awkward anymore.” My hand cups her cheek gently, Rosa’s hand stroking my own. Rosa is already leaning into me, her eyes closing gently. “Let me give you that kiss you’ve always wanted.” Our lips meet as we embrace, just like we always did before when we were teens.
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Goodbye, Volcano High.
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And thank you.