Rusty heard Sharon's sniffling as soon as he came through the door. Putting his backpack down and locking the door behind him, he walked towards the kitchen, noticing a big bouquet of pink and white roses which was set on the counter. It was a delicate bouquet, the flowers wrapped in cellophane and tied with a big silk ribbon. He has never sent flowers to anyone, but he could tell that the bouquet was expensive. Sharon was standing with her back to him, and sniffling badly.
"Who are the flowers from?" Rusty asked, not bothering to announce his presence first. He noticed a card attached to the cellophane wrapping, but he didn't want to read it, unless Sharon said he could.
"Oh, you're here," Sharon's voice was hoarse.
"Is it your birthday, Sharon?" Rusty wondered. He has lived with her for over a year and yet they only celebrated his birthday. He scolded himself inwardly for not knowing when her birthday was.
"Umm, no. It's just…" Sharon tried to hold back a loud sniffle, but Rusty heard it nonetheless.
"Can I read the card?" He wondered.
"If you want to," Sharon replied, her tone defeated. Rusty reached for the card and gently detached it from the cellophane; he was about to open and read it when the house phone rang.
"I'll get that," he said and walked to the living room, picking the phone from its dock. "Hello," he answered.
"Hi Rusty," he heard Hayley's voice. He has never met Sharon's daughter, but they spoke on the phone a few times.
"Hi," he said and was about to walk to the kitchen and hand the phone to Sharon. "How's it going?"
"Everything's fine," Hayley replied. She sounded weird and Rusty thought maybe it was a good idea to ask her if it was Sharon's birthday. He went out of the kitchen, and walked to his room.
"Is it Sharon's birthday or something?" he asked, his fingers still fidgeting with the card, but not opening it.
"No, Mom's birthday is on June 3rd. Why?" Hayley replied.
"Well, nothing, it's just… Someone sent her a huge bouquet of roses. There are like fifty roses in this thing and…"
"He sent her flowers?" he could hear the surprise in Hayley's voice.
"He? So you know who sent them?" Rusty wondered.
"Of course. It's my dad. Today's their 35th anniversary. I can't believe he had the nerve…"
"Wait, Jack sent the flowers?" Rusty opened the card and read quickly through it.
"Sharon my love,
Despite everything we've been through, I love you deeply, and I know you will always love me. Happy anniversary.
Eternally yours,
Jack"
Rusty felt his chest becoming warm as anger filled him. How could Jack even write these things to her after the showdown that occurred between them in the murder room on his visit to LA and after the cowardly way he left, without saying goodbye? He didn't know much about Sharon and Jack's marriage or about what had caused their separation. In fact, he barely knew anything about it at all, because Sharon wouldn't tell him and he wasn't even remotely close with Ricky and Hayley to ask them about it.
"What is she doing?" Hayley inquired.
"She's in the kitchen, making something," Rusty replied.
"Oh, no. She's cutting onions, isn't she?" Hayley asked.
"I didn't notice, but it did smell like onions when I went into the kitchen, so maybe… How did you even know?"
"She does that when she doesn't want us to see her cry," Hayley explained. "Look, I have to go. Just keep her company, okay?"
"Sure, you don't want to talk to her?" Rusty went out of his room and started walking towards the kitchen. Sharon's sniffles were much louder now.
"No, I'll call her again tomorrow. Bye, Rusty," Hayley said and hung up the phone. Rusty placed the phone back in its dock on his way to the kitchen.
"Rusty, was that Ricky?" Sharon asked, her voice shaking.
"No, it was Hayley, but her phone ran out of juice or something," he replied. As he walked into the kitchen, his eyes started stinging and the strong smell of onions hit his nose. Nevertheless, he stood next to Sharon. There was a huge pile of cut onions in three different bowls in front of her, and six more whole onions right next to the cutting board. Sharon was holding a sharp knife she very rarely used and chopping a seventh onion. If Rusty had to guess by the amount of chopped onions in the bowls, the puffiness around Sharon's eyes and the tears that were streaming down her face, she had cut at least 8 onions already and she wasn't showing any sign of stopping. Glancing down to her hand, he noticed that she was wearing a simple, thin golden band on her ring finger. He has never seen her wearing it before.
"What are you going to do with all the onions?" he wondered.
"I'll think of something," she replied.
"Well, there's a lot of it, maybe you should stop cutting it," he suggested. Sharon shrugged and continued chopping the onion. Sighing inwardly, Rusty opened one of the cabinets and took out a wine glass. Then he took Sharon's favorite white wine from the fridge and poured it into the glass. "Sharon, that's enough onions." Gently, he placed his hand on her hand that was holding the knife. "Look, your eyes are probably stinging like hell. I bet it's like really unhealthy or something, so maybe you should wash your hands and face and I'll think of something to do with all the onions," he placed the glass of wine on the counter. "And you should drink this. You look like you could really use it." Sharon gave him a quick nod and turned towards the sink, to wash her hands.
Rusty took a big cooking pot out of one of the drawers and placed it on the stove.
"What are you going to make?" Sharon asked and dried her tears with a paper towel.
"You'll see," Rusty replied and handed her the wine glass. Sharon thanked him and took a small sip of wine. "So, umm, Jack usually sends flowers?"
"No, it's our 35th anniversary. He usually forgets it, but I guess this year he…" Sharon's voice faltered as she took another sip of the wine.
"It's hard to believe you have been married to him for so long," Rusty mused.
"We've been separated longer than we were actually married," Sharon replied as she picked up the card Rusty left on the counter. "Do I even want to read this?"
"He just wrote that he loves you, and he believes you love him back," Rusty informed her. He heard her hum and even though he was standing with his back to her, he assumed the hum was accompanied with a nod of her head. "Do you?"
"Hmmm?" he could tell that Sharon was trying to avoid this conversation. Every time he tried to talk about Jack, she tried to change the subject or pretended that she didn't hear him.
"Do you still love Jack?" He could hear her emptying her wine glass in one sip and he was about to offer her more, but she walked over to the sink and started washing the glass.
"It's complicated," she replied, her voice breathy.
"But you used to, right?"
"A million years ago," Sharon said with a shrug of her shoulder. "Look, Rusty, I understand you want to know more about Jack and me, but it's a subject I don't wish to discuss. Don't take it personally; I don't even talk about it with my children or my parents."
"Why not?"
"Because, no matter how many years Jack and I have been apart, it's not pleasant for me to think about it," Rusty could detect the cracks in Sharon's voice.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel this way," he said.
"Don't worry about it," Sharon placed her hand on his shoulder, as if to comfort him.
"How are your eyes doing?" he asked and looked at her.
"They still sting," Sharon replied.
"Yeah, they look a little red," Rusty said.
"I'll be okay, Rusty," she shrugged. "I have some work to do, but let me know if you need any help with the… what did you say you're cooking?"
"Nice try, Sharon. You'll find out when it's ready," Rusty replied. Sharon shrugged and left the kitchen.
Rusty grabbed the bowls of chopped onions and poured their contents into the cooking pot, hearing the hissing sound of the onions once it landed at the bottom of the pot. Then he added some other ingredients and stirred. He had always cooked for his mother; food seemed to calm her down. And now he found himself cooking for Sharon in hopes to help her feel better as well. He felt bad for her even though he knew she wouldn't want that. But he couldn't help thinking about what she had told him about a few months earlier, about Jack leaving her after she had their second child, and about her taking the job at the LAPD in order to pay for Jack's law school. It all seemed so unfair to him. He sort-of liked Jack when he visited, but he couldn't help but feeling angry at him for leaving without saying goodbye. The way Sharon's voice became thick with emotion and her eyes were glazed with tears over the few days after Jack's departure was heartbreaking. She didn't really need to tell him much about her relationship or feelings for her bum husband; it was not hard to guess that she kept hoping he would change – the same way he hoped his mother would change.
He sighed and stirred the contents of the pot one last time before putting out the fire in the stove. It smelled delicious and made his mouth water. He grabbed two bowls from one of the cupboards and filled them with the steaming dish. Then he quickly set the table for the two of them and poured another glass of wine for Sharon, setting it next to her bowl.
"Sharon?" he uttered her name softly. "Dinner's ready." He could hear her putting things away and getting up from behind her desk.
"Whatever you made, it smells scrumptious," she said as she walked over to the dining table. Her eyebrows arched as she saw the glass of wine on the table. Rusty just shrugged in response and pulled the chair for her to sit. "You are sweet," she smiled at him and sat down. Rusty sat too and they started eating.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, Sharon, but I know a thing or two about being heartbroken and disappointed by people. Jack is an asshole and if he can't see the great person that you are then he doesn't deserve you or your love," Rusty's voice shook a little as he spoke. He could see tears rising in her eyes and before he realized it, his foster mother – the ever-strong woman who was always in control of her emotions – buried her face in her palms and started sobbing. Rusty cursed himself inwardly for what he had said; he got up from his chair and simply wrapped his arms around her, like she has done with him a couple of times.
"Oh, God. This is really stupid, you shouldn't even be involved in this," Sharon drew away and wiped her eyes on the end of her sleeve. "I'm sorry, Rusty. I shouldn't have started crying like that, I'm…"
"It's okay, Sharon. It's really okay," Rusty said. "It hurts, when someone leaves you like that even if it's been a while since it happened. Dr. Joe said to me the other day that sometimes grieving is the best way to move on, so maybe that's what you and I are doing, you know, grieving for the people who hurt us and left us." He took his seat back, but covered her hand with his. Sharon closed her eyes to avoid his gaze, and Rusty noticed the tears that got caught between her dark, long lashes. They started flowing down her face when she opened her eyes, but she wiped them with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry that you're still hurting about your mother," she said, her voice hoarse.
"I'm sorry about Jack. He doesn't know what he's missing," Rusty replied.
"So does your mother."
"You know, Dr. Joe is very helpful, and I get that he's a children's psychologist, but maybe you could talk to someone too," Rusty suggested.
"I'll consider it," Sharon replied and took her spoon, gently and gracefully putting it into the bowl and bringing it to her mouth. "Oh my goodness, this is delicious, Rusty. And it's my favorite food. How did you even know that?"
"I figured that if life gives you onions, you better make onion soup," Rusty replied.
"Rather than crying over them," Sharon uttered the words softly, but smiled at him – a genuine and warm smile that reached her eyes. Rusty smiled back at her. He knew that the both of them will be okay eventually.
"You know what they say – don't cry over chopped onions."
