Rosemary Danced: Ivy Book One Page 29
“I know you weren’t. I don’t know the answer to that question. I know I don’t want to get married at eighteen, but I’m not sure we’ll want to wait until we’re out of college. That’s my honest answer.”
“That’s a pretty good answer. So, we’ll play it by ear?”
“Yup. We’ll play it by ear. Now, I have a question for you. College choices have narrowed, but I know you’ve talked to scouts over the last month. Which one is your first choice? Just between us; which is your dream choice?”
Mike took a deep breath. “LSU.”
“Mine, too. I loved the campus and we both know I don’t know anything about football, but that game was beyond fun. And I would be thrilled for you to have the chance to play for them.”
“So. Fingers crossed for LSU?”
“Sure. I’m also going to ask for some divine intervention.” Rosemary closed her eyes and recited: “Dear Lord, please help Mike get a scholarship to LSU to play football. Thank you. Amen.”
Mike laughed. “Babe, I think God’s got more important things to do.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It can’t hurt.”
“No, it definitely can’t hurt.”
They left the estate after lunch, hoping to be through traffic and security in time to eat an early dinner at the airport and hang out until their flight. While they were eating, Mike’s phone buzzed. “It’s a Baton Rouge area code.” He touched the screen. He listened for several minutes, his smile getting broader, occasionally saying ‘yes’, ‘yeah’, or ‘yes, sir.’ He ended the call with, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ll tell her to look. Thanks.”
Mike was beaming. “That was Coach O. They’re offering me a full ride at LSU.”
“Oh, Mike! That’s wonderful. LSU!” Rosemary jumped up and hugged him. “LSU!”
Mike laughed as he hugged her. “He said you should check your email.”
“Really? Okay.” Rosemary sat down, grabbed her phone and pulled up her email. “There are several emails from LSU…” She pulled up the first one and started reading. She gasped. “Mike, they offered me a scholarship, too. Not dance, although she’s saying I can minor in dance if I choose. They viewed the online portfolio of costumes I’ve designed and made a suggestion that I prepare for an MFA in Costume Technology and Design.”
“Is it a good scholarship?”
Rosemary nodded, her eyes wide. “Tuition and fees for four years.”
Cautiously, he said, “what do you think about that?”
“I think….” she said, before she jumped up to throw her arms around him. “I think we’re going to LSU!”
Mike whooped, ignoring the frowns of the people around them. He looked around and announced to the room: “Both of us just got scholarship offers to LSU.” Somebody in the back of the room yelled: ‘Geaux Tigers!’
“I have to call my Mom.” Mike couldn’t stop grinning.
“As soon as we finish, we’ll video-chat our parents.”
Patty cried when Mike told her about their scholarships. Margie cried, too. John was ecstatic. After she talked to her parents, Rosemary wanted to tell Connor. He loved LSU, he loved their baseball team, their basketball team, and their football team.
Connor got on the phone, his voice quiet and his face somber, as it usually was. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hi, Rosemary. Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Mike and I wanted to tell you something.”
Mike leaned closer to Rosemary and put his face next to hers and made a silly face. “Hey, Connor.”
Connor almost smiled. “Hi, Mike.”
“Your sister’s got news. Go ahead, babe.”
Rosemary held the phone out so Connor could see both their faces. “Mike just got a scholarship to play football at LSU.”
“He did?” Connor’s eyes went wide.
“He did. I got a scholarship at LSU, too—for theater arts; costume design and dance.”
“You’re both going to LSU? Wow!”
“Connor, you are actually smiling.”
“I am. I’m smiling.” Connor nodded, the grin wide on his face.
“That makes my day, buddy. I’ll see you when I get home—in about ten days. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Rosie.”
Rosemary’s eyes were wet when she disconnected the call. “I don’t know what made me happier—that Connor was smiling, or that he said he loved me.”
“Fifteen-year olds are usually too embarrassed to admit they love their sister. He’s also very serious, like his sister. One of these days I hope he finds someone who makes him smile all the time.” Mike kissed her cheek.
“That would be nice,” Rosemary said wistfully before she focused on Mike’s face. “Hey. I think you were wrong last night.”
“About what?” Mike was puzzled.
“God didn’t have better things to do.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Mike laughed. “Are you ready? To go to Hong Kong? To get started on life as the Rosemary & Mike team?”
“I am. But shouldn’t it be the Mike & Rosemary team?”
“You call it what you want, I’ll call it what I want—as long as we’re together, gorgeous.”
“We are.” Rosemary smiled. “Mr. Warm-caramel eyes.”
Also by Charley Lynn:
Cordelia Smith is a modern girl with modern problems. Oh, wait, except for the nasty stepmother. That is until she meets a prince of a guy at the beach.
This is a 10k word short story.
Cordelia by Charley Lynn on Amazon
Acknowledgments
To my readers:
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed getting to know Rosemary as much as I did. After several starts and stops, the girl who popped into my consciousness during a long commute to work came to life on the page. Rosemary tapped on my shoulder one morning as I listened to a very old song on the radio. She was an old-fashioned girl in today’s world who, as it turned out, was a great example of a modern girl. She didn’t talk to me (that would be weird) but she communicated. A lot.
Like anyone who ever tried to write, I was often a pain to live with. For that, I apologize to the person who shares my life. I also thank you for putting up with me when I forgot to do stuff, or I when I didn’t have anything to say for an entire weekend, or when I lived inside Rosemary’s head for months on end.
Ivy became a real place to me. If you look up ‘Ivy, Iowa,’ you’ll get a map showing a spot by the road on US 163, east of Des Moines. It’s unincorporated, just some houses and a lovely old Methodist church. The fictional Ivy is somewhere else.
As I was writing, several of the characters also tapped me on the shoulder to be heard. (‘Hello? Charley? Tell my story next, please?’) Some of those folks will get their wish. We haven’t heard the last of Ivy yet.
Lastly, if you read Rosemary Danced, please take the time to leave a review. (Especially if you have good things to say!) Thanks.
About the Author
I love to write. For years, I hid that ‘light under a bushel’ because I tried and was rejected. Life is different now. It’s easier to be published, so I went for it again. I’ve had the best time writing my first book and I have ideas for several more.
More than I love to write, I love to read. I read everywhere. As a kid, I read indoors, outdoors, in the car, on the bus, at family dinners, even at parties. I carried a book with me everywhere (before e-readers…) I bought books, I borrowed books, I hoarded books and I treasured books. If I had to choose between chocolate chip cookies and books, I’d choose books. (I hope nobody ever makes me choose, though, I ain’t gonna lie.)
Also by Charley Lynn
Cordelia
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