Rosie Colored Glasses by Brianna Wolfson

Author:Brianna Wolfson [Wolfson, Brianna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2017-12-01T16:13:38+00:00

27

Four Years Ago

For over a year now, Rosie had been in a nearly catatonic state. There was the depression, and the Vicodin, and then some poisonous cocktail mix of the two. Rex couldn’t even tell the difference anymore.

For the first few months, Rex felt his call to duty. He prepared bottles of formula for Asher. He got Willow dressed in the mornings. He made sure Willow and Asher had toys to play with and movies to watch. He kissed his immobile wife goodbye every time he left the house, even though most days he didn’t even receive a smile in return. He rubbed Rosie’s back in bed until she fell asleep. But then the seesaw tipped. Rex grew weary. He was tired and exhausted and teeming with it. First at his wife. But then at himself. He knew this day would come all those years ago. He knew he and Rosie were mismatched. How they were always tugging at things within the other. Tugging at things the other didn’t want yanked at.

Where to live. Where to eat. When to speed up or slow down.

And as quickly as Rex inhaled Rosie all those years ago, he exhaled her back out. He could continue being a father, but could not continue being a husband. Especially not in these circumstances with those drugs involved. Especially after Rosie had refused help. He was certain of this. And once Rex Thorpe was certain of something, his mind could not be changed.

* * *

Rosie felt Rex slipping away, but she could not move to do anything about it. The depression, and then the Vicodin, and then some vicious mix of the two, had sunk its nails too deep into her. And the grip was tight in every second, every interaction and every cranny of her world.

And when the family went to Lanza Pizza one typical Tuesday evening for dinner, this fact had become so apparent, so blaring, so bright, so harsh, that neither Rex nor Rosie could ignore it anymore.

As soon as she walked through the door of her favorite pizza place, Rosie headed straight to the orange booth in the back and let her head fall into her arm. No request for crayons for doodling. No big cup for cream soda. No hug for John behind the counter. No quarters jingling in her pocket for the pinball machine.

And while Rosie twirled the pepper shaker with her middle finger and ignored her pizza, Willow scribbled away quietly and Asher pounded a meatball into the table. And her husband just sat there. Watching it all quietly unravel.

She remembered how in the early months of her depression, Rex would stare at her boldly. Urging her to move. Urging her to eat, to dance, to inhale, to do something. But tonight he just stared down at his pasta, defeated.

In that moment, Rosie knew her marriage was over.

And still, when Rosie got into the front passenger seat of the car on the way home from dinner, she wanted to turn to Rex and kiss him so deeply.

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