Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
"Ros, where did you put the candles?" John called. He'd looked in all of the cupboards she could reach, he'd opened all the drawers, he'd even checked the trash. They were nowhere to be found. The cake sat on the counter, a blue and white confection, with Veggie Tales characters painted on, that read "Happy Birthday Rosalind!". It had cost him 26 bucks, and he thought it should come with some kind of money back guarantee. "The best cake you'll ever eat or your money back" sounded good. And for 26 bucks it better be the best cake he'd ever eaten!
He had gotten some purple streamers to hang and a couple of green balloons made the apartment a little more festive. Grace had informed him two weeks ago that sixth birthdays were a big deal, right along with 10, thirteen, sixteen, eighteen and finally twenty one. John didn't want to think that far in advance. He was just glad he didn't have another "major" birthday coming up for another four years. His father had never thrown him a birthday party, which he didn't find surprising in the least. Well, his father hadn't done a lot of things. At any rate, John had arranged for a small party for Ros's sixth birthday. It was a school night, but he figured she could handle one night of staying up later than nine.
"Ros, the candles?" he asked again. She must've taken them, or else where were they? He'd set them on the counter by the cake, which now seemed like a stupid idea, but it was done.
"What candles?" Ros asked from the bathroom where she had insisted she could do her own hair. He envisioned a trip to the barbers where the mothers would all look at him with disdain as the hairdresser attempted to cut a rubber band out of his daughters fine hair without giving her a bald spot, with his luck, unsuccessfully.
"The ones that were on the counter by the cake!" he replied.
"You mean the crayons?" Crayons? Oh no. Candles were made of wax. Candles were pretty colors. Ros had a thing for coloring. Anything. Anywhere. What would candle wax stick to? Paper? He doubted it. The walls?
"Oh no!" John said under his breath as he quickly made his way to the bedroom where Ros had just spent an hour, playing with her doll he had assumed. Sure enough, bright streaks of pink, blue and yellow were smeared across the one wall that was not hidden behind a dresser or bed, to the right of the window.
"Rosalind!" he cried, not really terribly angry, kids did that sort of thing he knew, but frustrated none the less.
"Daddy?" He turned around, ready to scold, and had to choke back a laugh, and a sob. Everyone was supposed to be here in ten minutes, he had no candles (or rather, not in candle form anyway) and now this. Her hair was almost as bad as he'd expected, part of it tangled in a pony tail holder, part of it hanging down her back, and part of it sticking straight out. She was wearing her blue jeans with the flowers at the bottom under her green jumper with a neon pink shirt.
"John?" the muffled voice came from behind the front door. He went to open it and breathed a sigh of relief to find Grace behind it.
"Hey" he said as he closed the door again.
"You look beat" she said, putting a kiss on his cheek while handing him the wrapped gift she'd brought for Ros. Just then Ros followed her father out.
"Grace!" she exclaimed happily and ran to give the woman a hug.
"Well don't you look lovely?" Grace replied, giving John a laughing smile. Rosalind actually liked Grace, which was great. There were four other adults she would talk to: Connie, Andy, her Aunt Maria and her teacher. That was it. If it was anyone else, she still hid behind his legs. He hadn't been able to break her of it. Grace had told him not to worry, it was perfectly normal for a girl her age to be shy of strangers, and, in fact, in this city it might just well be a blessing. John had to agree there. Grace had never asked how John had come to have a daughter and he'd never told her. They'd been seeing each other almost going on five months (really, that long? It seemed like days) and he suddenly thought it might be a good idea to tell her that story. Couldn't hurt anyway.
"Grace, come see my picture!" Rosalind cried, dragging the red head into the bedroom to show her the candle drawing. Grace laughed as her eyes lighted upon it.
"Crayons?" she asked John, who was looking perplexed.
"Candles" he answered. Grace laughed again. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him lightly, then pushed past him to her purse.
"Here" she said, handing him the keys to her apartment, "In the kitchen, the second cupboard to the right of the stove, second shelf, I think I have some birthday candles" She nodded at Ros, "I'll take care of her hair" John sighed, thankful she only lived across the street, and grabbed his coat to trudge through the newly fallen snow. It was early November, the fourteenth to be exact, and there was already four inches of snow on the ground. It didn't bode well for the winter still not even really started. He kissed the top of her head as he headed out.
"You're an angel" he declared and could hear her laugh. He got back just in enough time to take his coat off before answering the door for Connie, Andy and Theo. They had Michelle with them too.
"Hey!" he said and let them in.
"Ros! Theo's here!" he called and was gratified when Rosalind came running out, her hair combed out and in pig tails, though she still wore her oddly mismatched outfit. Oh well. He had told her she could wear whatever she wanted.
"Hi, Rosalind" Connie greeted her.
"Happy Birthday!" Theo exclaimed.
"Hi!" Ros replied happily, "Come on, Theo, come see what my granma and granpa gave me!"
"The Rodriguez's" John explained as the children disappeared to the back room. Just then Grace emerged from the bathroom.
"Uh, Connie, this is Grace O'Malley" he introduced them, "Andy, you remember her?"
"Yeah, it's nice to see you again"
"Hi" Connie added, "It's nice to finally meet you"
"Is this your daughter?" Grace asked, pulling the blankets back from the slumbering child's face. She was almost a year old now, wasn't she? Or maybe she was a year old. John wasn't sure.
"Yeah, this is Michelle" Connie answered.
"Oh, she's so cute!" Grace exclaimed and the two women moved farther into the room to coo over the little girl.
"Andy, you want a soda?" John asked his friend as he opened the fridge and pulled a coke out for himself.
"Yeah, sure" Andy replied and John gave him a can just as the door bell rang again. This time it was Maria and her oldest, Anita, who was thirteen John was pretty sure. More introductions ensued and then they lit the candles on the cake and sang happy birthday. Ros blew them all out on the first try and them commenced the important part of the party, opening the presents. She got a box of Legos from Theo, apparently her favorite toy when she was at his house, two cheapo Barbie dolls from her aunt and cousin (the kind John wouldn't be too worried about when his daughter ended up cutting their hair and ripping the heads off of, which was destined to happen eventually, intentionally or by accident) and a big pad of paper and WASHABLE markers from Grace. The rest of the night proceeded without incident and they had Rosalind in bed by nine thirty. Grace had stayed to help clean up and now they sat together on the couch, finishing off the last piece of cake, the head of a little asparagus with a red baseball cap.
"So, Maria is Rosalind's father's sister, right?" Grace asked, popping a bite in her mouth. John nodded.
"He was my Lieutenant. He died, a little less than a year ago" he answered.
"Oh. Sorry." John shrugged.
"He was shot by another cop. He was in the hospital when Ros showed up, with this old lady........." He told her the whole story, while she devoured the cake, and he felt somehow more at peace with it all when he was done. She fed him the last bite of cake, heaped with frosting.
"You are a kind man, John Clark" she told him, looking into his eyes. She raised a finger and wiped a bit of frosting off his lip then sucked it off her finger. She curved her lips and trailed her finger around his lips again, then kissed him. And he felt like a kind man.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
"Ros, where did you put the candles?" John called. He'd looked in all of the cupboards she could reach, he'd opened all the drawers, he'd even checked the trash. They were nowhere to be found. The cake sat on the counter, a blue and white confection, with Veggie Tales characters painted on, that read "Happy Birthday Rosalind!". It had cost him 26 bucks, and he thought it should come with some kind of money back guarantee. "The best cake you'll ever eat or your money back" sounded good. And for 26 bucks it better be the best cake he'd ever eaten!
He had gotten some purple streamers to hang and a couple of green balloons made the apartment a little more festive. Grace had informed him two weeks ago that sixth birthdays were a big deal, right along with 10, thirteen, sixteen, eighteen and finally twenty one. John didn't want to think that far in advance. He was just glad he didn't have another "major" birthday coming up for another four years. His father had never thrown him a birthday party, which he didn't find surprising in the least. Well, his father hadn't done a lot of things. At any rate, John had arranged for a small party for Ros's sixth birthday. It was a school night, but he figured she could handle one night of staying up later than nine.
"Ros, the candles?" he asked again. She must've taken them, or else where were they? He'd set them on the counter by the cake, which now seemed like a stupid idea, but it was done.
"What candles?" Ros asked from the bathroom where she had insisted she could do her own hair. He envisioned a trip to the barbers where the mothers would all look at him with disdain as the hairdresser attempted to cut a rubber band out of his daughters fine hair without giving her a bald spot, with his luck, unsuccessfully.
"The ones that were on the counter by the cake!" he replied.
"You mean the crayons?" Crayons? Oh no. Candles were made of wax. Candles were pretty colors. Ros had a thing for coloring. Anything. Anywhere. What would candle wax stick to? Paper? He doubted it. The walls?
"Oh no!" John said under his breath as he quickly made his way to the bedroom where Ros had just spent an hour, playing with her doll he had assumed. Sure enough, bright streaks of pink, blue and yellow were smeared across the one wall that was not hidden behind a dresser or bed, to the right of the window.
"Rosalind!" he cried, not really terribly angry, kids did that sort of thing he knew, but frustrated none the less.
"Daddy?" He turned around, ready to scold, and had to choke back a laugh, and a sob. Everyone was supposed to be here in ten minutes, he had no candles (or rather, not in candle form anyway) and now this. Her hair was almost as bad as he'd expected, part of it tangled in a pony tail holder, part of it hanging down her back, and part of it sticking straight out. She was wearing her blue jeans with the flowers at the bottom under her green jumper with a neon pink shirt.
"John?" the muffled voice came from behind the front door. He went to open it and breathed a sigh of relief to find Grace behind it.
"Hey" he said as he closed the door again.
"You look beat" she said, putting a kiss on his cheek while handing him the wrapped gift she'd brought for Ros. Just then Ros followed her father out.
"Grace!" she exclaimed happily and ran to give the woman a hug.
"Well don't you look lovely?" Grace replied, giving John a laughing smile. Rosalind actually liked Grace, which was great. There were four other adults she would talk to: Connie, Andy, her Aunt Maria and her teacher. That was it. If it was anyone else, she still hid behind his legs. He hadn't been able to break her of it. Grace had told him not to worry, it was perfectly normal for a girl her age to be shy of strangers, and, in fact, in this city it might just well be a blessing. John had to agree there. Grace had never asked how John had come to have a daughter and he'd never told her. They'd been seeing each other almost going on five months (really, that long? It seemed like days) and he suddenly thought it might be a good idea to tell her that story. Couldn't hurt anyway.
"Grace, come see my picture!" Rosalind cried, dragging the red head into the bedroom to show her the candle drawing. Grace laughed as her eyes lighted upon it.
"Crayons?" she asked John, who was looking perplexed.
"Candles" he answered. Grace laughed again. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him lightly, then pushed past him to her purse.
"Here" she said, handing him the keys to her apartment, "In the kitchen, the second cupboard to the right of the stove, second shelf, I think I have some birthday candles" She nodded at Ros, "I'll take care of her hair" John sighed, thankful she only lived across the street, and grabbed his coat to trudge through the newly fallen snow. It was early November, the fourteenth to be exact, and there was already four inches of snow on the ground. It didn't bode well for the winter still not even really started. He kissed the top of her head as he headed out.
"You're an angel" he declared and could hear her laugh. He got back just in enough time to take his coat off before answering the door for Connie, Andy and Theo. They had Michelle with them too.
"Hey!" he said and let them in.
"Ros! Theo's here!" he called and was gratified when Rosalind came running out, her hair combed out and in pig tails, though she still wore her oddly mismatched outfit. Oh well. He had told her she could wear whatever she wanted.
"Hi, Rosalind" Connie greeted her.
"Happy Birthday!" Theo exclaimed.
"Hi!" Ros replied happily, "Come on, Theo, come see what my granma and granpa gave me!"
"The Rodriguez's" John explained as the children disappeared to the back room. Just then Grace emerged from the bathroom.
"Uh, Connie, this is Grace O'Malley" he introduced them, "Andy, you remember her?"
"Yeah, it's nice to see you again"
"Hi" Connie added, "It's nice to finally meet you"
"Is this your daughter?" Grace asked, pulling the blankets back from the slumbering child's face. She was almost a year old now, wasn't she? Or maybe she was a year old. John wasn't sure.
"Yeah, this is Michelle" Connie answered.
"Oh, she's so cute!" Grace exclaimed and the two women moved farther into the room to coo over the little girl.
"Andy, you want a soda?" John asked his friend as he opened the fridge and pulled a coke out for himself.
"Yeah, sure" Andy replied and John gave him a can just as the door bell rang again. This time it was Maria and her oldest, Anita, who was thirteen John was pretty sure. More introductions ensued and then they lit the candles on the cake and sang happy birthday. Ros blew them all out on the first try and them commenced the important part of the party, opening the presents. She got a box of Legos from Theo, apparently her favorite toy when she was at his house, two cheapo Barbie dolls from her aunt and cousin (the kind John wouldn't be too worried about when his daughter ended up cutting their hair and ripping the heads off of, which was destined to happen eventually, intentionally or by accident) and a big pad of paper and WASHABLE markers from Grace. The rest of the night proceeded without incident and they had Rosalind in bed by nine thirty. Grace had stayed to help clean up and now they sat together on the couch, finishing off the last piece of cake, the head of a little asparagus with a red baseball cap.
"So, Maria is Rosalind's father's sister, right?" Grace asked, popping a bite in her mouth. John nodded.
"He was my Lieutenant. He died, a little less than a year ago" he answered.
"Oh. Sorry." John shrugged.
"He was shot by another cop. He was in the hospital when Ros showed up, with this old lady........." He told her the whole story, while she devoured the cake, and he felt somehow more at peace with it all when he was done. She fed him the last bite of cake, heaped with frosting.
"You are a kind man, John Clark" she told him, looking into his eyes. She raised a finger and wiped a bit of frosting off his lip then sucked it off her finger. She curved her lips and trailed her finger around his lips again, then kissed him. And he felt like a kind man.