Page 69 of Beautiful Life
I just met Rosa Franks, but she has attached herself to me for the past hour-and-a-half since Gabby, Jude, and I arrived at the party. She’s bossy, opinionated, and full of piss and vinegar, yet somehow it comes across sweet and funny. She’s small, rounded, and has a beautiful head of lush white hair that hangs just above her shoulders with the front sweeping dramatically across her forehead ending in a flip just between her eye and ear. It looks a little bit like a helmet, but she works it for her age. I’ve learned throughout my time with Rosa at our spot here on the sofa that she’s eighty-five, widowed, has three children, five grandchildren, and eight great grandchildren.
Oh, and she also likes margaritas. After two, she’s become even more opinionated, bossy, and even her vinegar is souring. I work with my share of seniors in my job at the hospital, but I’ve never thought about what it will be like when I get that old. All of a sudden, I’m looking forward to the time in life when I can be full of piss and vinegar and everyone will find me cute instead of bitchy. How cool will that be?
I smile. “Well, you’ve piqued my interest, Rosa. I promise to look it up.”
“Here’s your marg, Miss Rosa.” Paige says rolling up to us, barely righting herself before sloshing our drinks. She comes to a halt at the side of our sofa, handing us our solo cups.
Rosa looks into her cup and complains, “This is only half-full.”
Paige looks down at Rosa with a scrunched face. “Joe said you could only have half since this was your third. Sorry.”
“Did he now?” Rosa frowns, tries to look around Paige and into the kitchen, probably for Joe, to give him a piece of her mind. But she instantly looks back to Paige and she asks loudly, “Does your mama know you’re wearin’ those shorts? Your bottom is hangin' outta those things!”
Paige puts her hands on her hips, tilts her head full of big eighties hair. “This is how they wore them in the eighties.”
“They didn’t wear ‘em like that on Dallas,” Rosa mutters with her brows furrowed.
Thank goodness my phone chimes, cutting into the eighties fashion debate and I look down to see it’s a text from Tony.
Tony: Sorry. I’ll be here awhile. U ok?
“Is that your boyfriend?” Paige asks, grinning at me.
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” Rosa accuses.
“Well…” I start.
“Of course, she has a boyfriend.” Paige butts in, planting her barely clad one on the coffee table in front of us. “It’s my brother. Leigh and I are practically sisters now.”
Rosa looks from Paige to me. “How long has this boy been courting you?”
Before I could answer, Paige chips, “Ha! Courting. That’s an interesting way to put it.”
Rosa looks back to me with raised eyebrows in silent question, so I say vaguely, “I don’t know. It’s been a little unusual.”
“At least since Thanksgiving,” Paige adds. “Wait, were you together before Thanksgiving?”
“No, not really,” I mumble, taking a long swallow of my beer, because I really don’t know when Tony and I got together. We just kind of morphed into what we are.
“Do you like him?” Rosa asks.
“Yeah, Leigh. Do you like him?” Paige mocks.
I squint at Paige before I look over to Rosa, “Of course, I like him.”
“Is he good to you?” she asks further.
Rosa’s question has wiped the smartass right off Paige’s face since she knows my history with Preston. I look back at Rosa. “Yes, Rosa, he’s very good to me.”
“Well then, child. You should keep him. I’m eighty-five, I should know. The good ones are hard to find.”
My phone chimes again, saving me from having to answer Rosa.
Tony: Hey- R U ok?
Me: I’m good. Take ur time.
“Are you doing the texting?” Rosa asks.
