Page 88 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“Good for you. I hated her… and her little dog, too.”
“Then there was Timothy in college.”
“I don’t remember him.”
“Yes, you do,” Rose assured her. “I brought him home for Christmas one year? He’s the only person I’ve ever brought here—he hated straight people?”
“Ah, right. The barista you met at Coffee Thyme. He said that a lot... I think I blocked him out.”
“He adoredyou. Thought you were the funniest person he’d ever met. Such a weirdo. He ended up being judgmental about so many things—books I liked to read, food I ate, my career choice… Oppressing me in all these sneaky, microaggressive ways that I didn’t notice. But when we first met, in my twenty-two-year-old head, I was so excited to meet a guy who was bisexual, too. I thought we’d get married, have bisexual babies and help diversify the planet.”
Violet laughed. “You’re the weirdo.”
“I know.” Rose chuckled. “I was young.”
They both took a breath before Violet looked at her sister once more. “Hey, Rosie?”
“Yes?”
“I think you might have terrible taste in romantic partners.”
Rose laughed as she shook her head. “Seems like it, yeah? Yikes… Distract me, please. How’s Painted Poppies?”
“Oh my gosh, I have eight hundred followers, and people are asking me if I have prints for sale. It’s crazy.”
“That’s great, Vi.” Rose sat up, her dark eyes wide. “So great… Pleasepursue this. I was wrong before—about staying the course. Quit that stupid job, focus on this.”
“Well, we’ll see. Let’s not be too hasty.”
“What’s going on with you and Jasper? You two seem cozy?”
“We’re the same as always.” Violet shrugged. “Drinking way too much coffee and tea, taking long walks and complaining about the patriarchy.”
Rose sat back in disbelief. “You talk about the patriarchy with Jasper?”
“I talk about everything with Jasper. He asked me if he could come over the other day and I told him no because I was crampy and bleeding to death and didn’t feel like being bothered. He went to Simone’s, bought me a lemon meringue tart and left it on the front porch with some bandages and a note that said, ‘Maybe one of these will help?’”
“Oh my gosh, I can’t. What a cutie… Much sweeter than stupid Coffee Thyme Timothy. If I got snappy with him the first thing he’d say was, ‘Are you on your period or something?’”
“Ooh, that’s grounds for a swift execution.”
“Right?” Rose frowned. “That grated me. He would be weirdly distant when I was on, too. Grossed out like a child.”
“Ohgeeze. Like periods aren’t a tangible, miserable thing that’s part of our everyday lives—like you were a woman from a movie or TV show. Did he expect you to always have on matching underwear, too? Or to wake up with a full face of perfect makeup?”
Rose laughed. “Right? And to have instant, effortless orgasms… Tell Jasper to bring you tampons next time instead of bandages. The organic cotton ones.”
Violet shook her head. “I am not telling him that.”
“You don’t think he’d do it?”
“No, he probablywouldand then I’d be even more of a mess over him than I already am. Nobody can compete with him as it is. I have to keep my standards mediocre, you know? A little on the low side. Realistic—for the guy who tells me I’m weird for wanting to go sketch in the woods in the dead of winter, or avoids me when I’m on my period.”
Leaning over, Rose adjusted so that she could lay her head against Violet’s thigh, curling up onto the couch in the fetal position. “Screw that guy, Vi. Let’s not settle for jerks.” When Rose was comfortable, she took a deep breath. A warm spot against Violet’s leg made her look down. Rose was crying.
Violet sat with her sister—her always perfectly put-together, career-driven and strong-as-a-rock sister—and she let her cry in her lap. She didn’t say a word. Just smoothed her hair and stared into the flickering fireplace.
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