Rosemarie's Revenge

It had been a month since McKenna began working for Dr. Simpson, with Rosemarie at her side every step of the way. She was finding it harder and harder to keep the truth to herself. Catching Rosemarie alone in the break room one day presented the perfect opportunity to drop the bomb. Rosemarie sat at a small table, doughnut in one hand, a device of some kind in the other. McKenna sat down directly across from her and looked the cold hottie in the eyes. “I can’t keep it to myself any longer.” Slowly chewing her doughnut, Rosemarie’s eyes flicked from her device to McKenna and back. “Keep what to yourself?” “Rosemarie, look at me. You don’t recognize me? Think back to the apartment complex in 1990.” “I know who you are, McKenna.” McKenna started. Instead of surprising Rosemarie, Rosemarie was surprising her. “Really?” The eyes flicked back to her again before returning to her device. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell me?” McKenna gave a quick chuckle. “Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.” A moment of awkward silence passed between them, and then Rosemarie placed her device on the table. She looked up at McKenna and asked, “Now what?” “Now I guess I get to tear into you for being so mean to me.” Rosemarie looked unfazed as she placed the last bite of her doughnut in her mouth. “Is it, after all these years?” “If the tables were swapped, you might think so.” “So then tear into me,” said Rosemarie in an indifferent tone. “Well, on the one hand, you were honest with me when you rejected my friendship. And I know we all have the right to pick and choose our friends.” “But?” “But you were still a flat-out cagna.” Rosemarie’s brows knotted. “What the hell does that mean?” “It’s Italian for bitch. You’re Italian, aren’t you?” “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I speak it.” “You were mean. You threatened me. Your boyfriend was a real asshole. You hurt my feelings. I hope you’re not the hater you once were, even though part of the problem was Fay and her big mouth. I’m sorry she lied to you.” Rosemarie simply stared at her for a few minutes, but McKenna found her hard to read. Was she surprised? Sorry? Angry? Finally, she said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” A quick chuckle that was more like a snort escaped McKenna. “I’ve been keeping a journal for decades. Need I share those days with you?” Rosemarie shrugged, clearly growing impatient. “You told me that Fay—although you wouldn’t say her name at the time—told you I was going around saying I wanted your body. Not true, Rosemarie. That’s just not how I talk. Fay was interested in me, and my interest in you made her jealous. That’s what motivated her to say that shit to you.” Rosemarie took a second to digest this. “Oh, okay. But why now? Why does it matter after all these years?” “Like I said, you wouldn’t ask that if the tables were swapped. I can forgive you and move on. I just want you to know I was very hurt and angry for quite a while to be judged the way I was, and it really dampened my trust in people. I hope you got rid of Rick, too. I think he was a horrible influence on you. He really came off as rather abusive. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the control freak from hell, even if he didn’t actually hit you.” “We broke up shortly after I last saw you.” “Good for you. Fay also told me you told her in the laundry room one day that he was watching your every move and that you were afraid to go against him because he once beat up some girl.” “That was true.” “She also said you didn’t want to hurt me. This was before your grand confrontation at my studio apartment—remember that little place on the ground floor with the denim blue carpet?” She shrugged. “You wanted more than friendship, McKenna.” “I did, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t accept you as a friend since you were with him. I certainly wasn’t going to force myself on you or anybody else, for that matter.” Silence. “The only other thing I remember her saying—without referring to my old journals—was something about Rick only allowing you to experiment with women if you brought them home so he could watch, and you were against that idea. I don’t blame you.” “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Well, to each their own, but two’s company while three’s a crowd.” More silence. Then Rosemarie asked, “Anything else?” “It’s okay to hate people. We all have someone we hate. It’s just not okay to jerk their emotions around or make threats. Telling me you had no problem with me and that you accepted all kinds of people, then turning around and saying you wanted nothing to do with me in the name of some hateful religion—that wasn’t cool.” McKenna thought it would be nice if Rosemarie could apologize, but she didn’t count on her doing so. And she didn’t. “Okay. That it?” “I’m looking to rent a place because, while I adore the couple I’m living with, I really miss my privacy. Any recommendations?” Rosemarie studied her for a minute. Was that a hint of a smile McKenna detected at the corners of her rosy lips? “Well, how much privacy do you need?” “What do you mean?” “I lost my parents last year in a plane crash.” “Oh, I’m terribly sorry to hear that.” “They left me their three-bedroom, two-bath house. You can rent a room in it.” McKenna, who had been leaning on the table, slumped back against her chair. Wow. Just wow.