PRETTY PURPLE ASTERS | FICTION

Chapter 5: Rosalie (Aster's Mother)

"You know why I have to keep the book?" Aster asked me as we walked down the street.

"Uh..."

"Because it probably belonged to my dad. He must've hidden some clues in here...other clues. He wouldn't leave without leaving mum a trail which would lead to where he had gone...a trail mum never tried to find. They still loved each other. They didn't separate. He wouldn't have just abandoned her." Aster sighed.

"Aster, what if your dad didn't want to be found?" I asked her quietly. "What if he wanted to leave?"

For a long, tense moment, I thought she was about to explode and yell at me.

But then she let out a sigh. "There's just no way for anybody to know if we don't find him and ask him ourselves."

***

"Mum?" Aster called, knocking on the door of her mum's apartment.

It had only taken about ten minutes to walk to her mum's apartment down the road.

The building was a grey, cement, very tall building. It looked old and sad, but I decided not to judge the book by its cover. If that makes sense.

Or rather, the building by its face.

"Aster!" A woman's voice exclaimed, delighted, as the door slowly opened to reveal a woman who was probably Aster's mother.

The woman had long curly dark hair and electric blue eyes. She was dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans, and she looked to be around her mid-thirties.

She hugged Aster before turning and seeing me. I was standing there awkwardly, fidgeting with my shirt.

"Oh, you brought a friend?" She asked her daughter with a small smile.

"Uh...yeah. Mum, this is Elijah Hughes, the boy I was best friends with when I was younger, when the we lived in Britain." Aster winked at me. "I brought him over to get to know you."

"Oh, yes, I quite remember him," Aster's mum, Mrs. Easton, said with a fond smile at me, "A little boy you were. Even shorter than my Aster at the time!" She laughed good-naturedly. "Although, of course, you've grown a lot."

"Uh...thank you, Mrs. Easton." I said awkwardly.

"Call me Rosalie, my dear. Now, come in, both of you." Rosalie ushered us both in, and shut the door gently behind her with a click.

Aster's mother, Rosalie, was a very nice person. She offered Aster and I cookies and tea and all sorts of things, and gave us both a little chocolate bar to keep for later.

Everything was going well, until Aster pulled out 'Pathways and Roses' by Louisa Winchester-Greene, and immediately Rosalie stopped laughing, and her smile faded into a serious expression.

"What is that you've got there, dear?" She asked quietly.

"This book is how I found your apartment, Mum." Aster replied, opening the book. She pulled out the letter she had shown me earlier, and passed it to her mother.

"Oh." Rosalie said, her voice suddenly small. "How did you find this book?"

Aster shrugged. "Grandmother's bookshelf."

"Now, dear, you shouldn't really look in your Grandmother's things," Rosalie scolded her daughter gently. "Even though she might not particularly treat you very well—,"

"I know she doesn't treat me very well," Aster cut her mother off, "Please stop talking about my Grandmother."

"Sorry, sweetheart," Rosalie said, reading the letter again and again. "So you know...If you know, I'd better tell you the whole story."

Neither of us said anything.

"Should I go?" I asked quickly, breaking the tense silence.

Rosalie turned to me with a smile. "No, that's alright, dear. You may stay."

She sighed. "Lester Easton..." She smiled sadly, "Well, I met him in University. We were...20 years old. We got married when we turned 28, and my parents were delighted. However, Marjorie Thomas, his mother, hated me, for some reason. I don't know why. She took one look at me and just told me to stay away. Of course, Lester insisted that we marry and ignore his mother. His mother didn't do anything when Lester made that decision, but I knew that she hated me. But, I didn't care; I was happy to be with Lester. But then one day...I just couldn't deal with it anymore. I couldn't deal with her anymore. I wrote Lester this letter, and I moved away." She sighed, pointing at the paper she held in her hand. "A few days later, Lester vanished. Marjorie hated me even more, she blamed me for his disappearance. Truthfully, I know nothing about what happened to him, or where he went. Marjorie thinks that I lured him away, that I threatened him. I would never, EVER do such a horrible deed."

And then, Rosalie Ruth Easton started crying.

"S-sometimes, I don't get what I did wrong with my life," Rosalie furiously wiped her tears away with her sleeve, "But then, soon after your father left, Aster, you were born. You were the joy of my life, the last piece of Lester Easton that I had left. But then...Marjorie stole you from me too." Another stray tear rolled down her cheek, but Rosalie quickly whipped it away. "I was left with nothing. I had nothing left...nothing."

Author's Note: 

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