"Hey." Rosalie said, stumbling across a forlorn Opie. She gestured back to the egg toss he was vehemently gripped to, and asked "You bow out?"
"Yeah." Opie said, dryly, without looking at her, "Yeah, I did."
"Why-" Rosalie started.
Opie shook his head, and lit a cigarette. He drawled, "You won't get it."
"Try me." Rosalie said, and gestured towards the guy Opie was glaring down, "It has something to do with the pariah? I just got berated for acknowledging his simple 'Hey there' with a 'Hi'."
Opie side-glanced at the woman, and he knew she wasn't going to let this go...or even just go. He'd been stewing in this long enough, all day; he took another draw before telling her.
"I wanted the guy to be a miserable, broken piece of shit without Sam Crow." Opie rasped, "I tell you, I'm having a hard time, kid. This club means everything to me. Only thing I ever wanted from the time I went here." He gestured around at the Middle School. He exhaled harshly and scoffed, "But everything else – Donna, the kids, work – are all heading in the opposite direction. I just can't hook shit up. I feel like I'm missing on every front."
"Okay." Rosalie said, and took a seat next to him, "Shit may have hit the fan multiple times, but you still have everything that he doesn't. He can't even say hello to people with tenuous links to this club, and they're all on it...like hawks."
"You're not tenuous." Opie drawled back.
"Okay." Rosalie tried again, "But...they have your back, relentlessly. You have the club and your family, and they all know you, and how hard you're trying. None of what you're doing is in vain. And...I don't think he's happy, Opie, he has this sad puppy left out in the rain look about him."
Opie almost let a smile escape at her genuine words but something more pressing caught his attention. Kyle had pulled off his egg-splattered top and briefly revealed his very prominent back tattoo.
"Still has that tat." Opie seethed.
"Opie. Hey." Rosalie asked, "What are you doing?"
"Stay here. This is me." He drawled and flicked his cigarette to the ground.
"What? Opie?" Rosie uttered as he walked away.
Rosalie was making her way through the crowd. At first she was looking for Donna, but she made a sharp turn against it. No. She should probably be looking for Jax. She didn't completely understand Opie's beef with this guy, but she knew enough; you don't elicit this kind of reaction from everyone unless you well and truly screwed up. And she wasn't certain that social etiquette reigned supreme here, anything could go down.
"Can we talk?" Joshua Kohn asked Rosalie, grabbing her arm as she passed him by.
"I'm sorry, you are?" Rosie asked and slipped her arm out of the stranger's grasp.
"I'm helping out at the grill. It's such an adorable initiative of Mrs Morrow's, it really is Charming. I like that." Kohn chuckled and surveyed the children running around with water pistols.
"That answered why you're here, not who you are." Rosie replied tersely.
"You are a friend of Tara's?" He asked and it all suddenly fell into place; that creepy ass-hole from the phone call; the bastard that had her rattled; this was the guy!
"Not really." She uttered, "She's my doctor. Did you phone me, the other day?"
"Did you know she's screwing your boyfriend?" He asked simply, feigning concern.
"Excuse me?" Rosalie rasped.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Tara scorned as she stormed up to them.
"Hey." Kohn smiled, turning his full attention to her. He explained to her, "I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Let you know I'm in town. I'm here on ATF business."
"Do you know this guy?" Rosie huffed out as she glanced around for back up.
"It's an interstate weapons case. I, uh, shouldn't actually be telling you this, but since it is you. Originated in South Chicago, big arm deal. Led back here. Sons of Anarchy are involved." Kohn explained.
"The rose petals and the sick photo, they business too?" Tara asked tersely.
"What sick photo?" Rosie scorned, "Did you send that?"
"She got one of you." Kohn told her with a shrug, and returned to Tara, "I know you really love pink roses. And I don't want to see you get hurt, Tara, not by that guy. Let her have him."
"I'm not with Jax." Rosie seethed at him.
"Picture says a thousand words." Kohn rasped back.
"He's my friend." Tara uttered back.
"He's not good for you, in any capacity." Kohn told her.
"That restraining order is still in effect. You come near my house or you come to my work again, and I will file a police-report-" Tara threatened.
"Okay. Okay. Actually, my federal jurisdiction takes precedence over state-ordered mandates. I'm surprised you didn't realise that." Kohn explained, condescendingly, "But I understand, if that's how you feel right now. And I promise, no more contact."
"I-I don't-" Tara muttered.
"Everything alright over here?" Logan asked, as he sauntered over with two drinks, handing one over to Rosalie. She accepted it from him with shaky hands.
"I don't believe we've met." Kohn smiled smugly at Logan and offered out his hand.
"Logan James. Sacramento Councillor." Logan declared and shook the man's hand.
"It's been so good talking to you, Tara." Kohn said, completely ignoring the social convention to introduce himself in turn, "I miss that."
Tara's eyes stuck to the ground as he sauntered away.
"Tara…" Rosalie uttered.
"It's not your problem." Tara scorned at her and stormed off in the opposite direction, towards the parking lot.
"Yeah, it kind of is!" Rosalie shouted back at her.
Logan placed a hand on the small of Rosalie's back and guided her further away from the outburst. He was both a gentleman and uniquely aware of the public eye at all times; the altercation had drawn a glance or two, or many. He gestured to some acquaintances of his cordially as they strolled through the crowd.
"I'm guessing you're not gonna tell me what the hell that was." Logan rasped in her ear and watched the weird man they'd encountered return to his position manning a grill.
Rosalie glanced down at the drink in her hand and sighed heavily. She stopped and turned to face him, sincerely, and began, "Logan. You are a great guy-"
"Let's just leave it at that, and head on over here, hey, we can dress up like Elvis? Sweet." Logan declared.
Rosalie smiled halfheartedly and told him, "Look, you are totally who I want bringing me drinks, and kissing me all movie-style at carnivals-"
"It was one of my finer moments." Logan scoffed.
"But-" Rosalie uttered.
"Why does there have to be a but? That all sounds great." Logan groaned.
"I'm pregnant." Rosalie admitted to him, and watched his brow peak, and his gaze subtly glance down to her loose flowing shirt and then his lips purse. He thought for a moment and then she uttered, "So..."
"You should probably give me that back then." Logan said, gesturing to the coffee cup in her hands.
Rosalie wavered and then rasped, "Right. Of course."
"I'll get you a decaf." Logan said simply and requested, "Wait here."
Rosalie stared back at the man for a moment, in confusion, and then stumbled after him, pulling his arm back to face her. She furrowed her brow and said, "Uh, no. No. That's...no."
"You shot me straight from the beginning, and I was a pest. I should have took you at your word before." Logan explained, sincerely, "I'm sorry, please, let me at least fix this, and we can still have a good time today."
"You have nothing to apologise for, but...I think I've had enough community spirit for one day." Rosalie said.
"You just got here." Logan said.
"I've a better idea. And a favour to ask of you." Rosalie said.
"Sure." Logan drawled.
"You weren't slinging all afternoon at that shooting booth, you were very good." Rosalie informed him.
"Okay, thank you." He nodded.
"Are you a good teacher?" She asked him.
"This have anything to do with that oddball at the grill?" He asked her straight.
"No." Rosalie shot back, "I'm just exercising my constitutional right."
"You want to go right now?" He sighed.
"I just have to make a quick phone call, and then...yeah?" She asked tentatively.
"Alright." Logan sighed, "Then we're even, Callaghan. I'll fix your drink while I wait."