🌹Rosalie🌹

I've never seen so many cows in my life.

The open grassy fields and rolling hills are a far cry from what I pictured when my mom told me we were moving to California. My first thought was sunny beaches and a nauseating scene of palm trees. I pictured year round sunshine and lack of any true seasons. Something I haven't quite decided yet if it's a good thing or not.

What I didn't picture was cows. Fields and fields of cows.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" my mom asks beside me.

It's something.

I lift my head from the seat, pulling my eyes from the passing monotony of tan grassy hillsides. Lifting my brows, I look back at my mom. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into a bun, smooth and pristine as if we haven't been driving for the last twelve hours. Her smile is hopeful, and it's one I haven't seen on her in a long time.

"Sure," I comply. "Beautiful."

"Okay. I know it's not as colorful as New York, but it's so much calmer. And quieter. I promise, Rosie, just give it a chance. It's a fresh start for us."

A fresh start.

She's not wrong. What I wouldn't give for a fresh start. To not be the daughter of the man who stole from hundreds of families. Who made his wealth by preying on others.

A real backwards Robinhood story. Destroyed our family, tore apart the life I had been living, a life I thrived in. Not many seventeen-year-olds can say they danced for the Francis Academy of Ballet in New York, an invite-only school for ballet. I had been dancing there since I was ten years old. A school with a pipeline to the National Ballet Academy, AKA, my dream school. It's all I've worked toward since I first put on my ballet shoes at four years old.

But my dad got arrested for embezzlement and I lost the funding to attend such a school.

So now I'm here. Staring at cows.

"This is good for us, Rosie," my mom adds. "They even have a ballet school here. You can practice in an actual studio again."

I push a smile on my face before I rest my head back against the seat and look out the window. The vast, empty fields begin to taper off as the outskirts of town come into view. A large wooden sign engulfs the hillside, the words Welcome to Blueridge plastered in big white letters. And what do you know, there's even a cow on the sign.

"They're known for their dairy farms," my mom chimes in.

"You said nothing about living on a farm."

My mom laughs. "Because we aren't living on a farm. Darren doesn't raise the cows, sweetheart. He manages the manufacturing plant in the city."

"Then why aren't we living in the city?"

She smiles. "Because this is home."

Home. It feels a lot like an empty term. Home to me is nearly three thousand miles away back in Autumn Grove, New York. But home to my mom is this place. The place where she spent her childhood.

"Just give it a chance, Rosie," she pleads. It's the very thing she's been saying since she shared the news of our move across the country. "Darren is so sweet and loving. You just need to spend some time together to see that this is the right move. I really believe you're going to love it here."

Darren Bradshaw. My soon to be stepdad. My mom and him grew up together. Their families were close, but as I watch the tiny shops flash by in an instant, wondering if we've managed to truly drive through the entire town in a matter of minutes, I can't help but wonder if everyone in this godforsaken town is considered close.

Mom claims she used to babysit Darren, though she was only four years older. Mom left for college and never returned to her roots. I guess when your husband gets sent behind bars and you're left with absolutely nothing, you find yourself connecting back with the place you last felt whole. Unfortunately for me, that was Blueridge, California. And Darren Bradshaw. Her fiancé.

I've met Darren all of three times when he came to visit. Mom spent hours disappearing on her phone talking to him. I didn't mind it. She was happy again. After seeing what the trial with my dad did to her, that's all I ever wanted. But as soon as the divorce papers went through, she was engaged again, and we were driving across the country to start a new life.

"Here it is," she smiles.

I sit up in my seat to take in the insanely large wooden arch backed by a long gravel road. It's far too over the top, but as my eyes roll at the scene, my mom's ignite. Makes me feel like an instant ass for thinking anything other than happiness. She deserves this. I know that. Doesn't mean I have to like it, at least, not on the inside.

She turns into the driveway and slowly leads us down the path to our so-called home. The large grassy fields on either side of me expand for days, our closest neighbor nowhere to be seen. It's a vast difference from the track home neighborhood we came from, or the apartments we spent the last year scraping by in.

The house comes into view. It's bigger than I expected. A sense of quaintness lies in the soft peach color. The dark wood porch that wraps around adds to the small cottage feel. But the sheer vastness of its size steals its subtle glory, launching this home into a status of wealth. Mom did not disclose this little detail when we left home.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asks. "Home sweet home."

I don't say anything as she parks the car. I push my door open and step out, feeling the warm, late summer sun as I continue to scan the property. There's a large wooden building down the road a bit, something I can only assume to be some type of barn. The rest of the yard is open, no fence to mark the boundary lines, leaving me to wonder just how much of the property is theirs.

"Diana," a deep voice rattles behind me. Before I have a chance to find its source, my mom is squealing. Yes, squealing. Like a schoolgirl. She's running across the yard, flying into the arms of Darren. He scoops her up, spinning her around with the same goofy smile as he wraps his arms around her. "I've waited a lifetime for this moment."

Gag. Okay, the line was cheesy as all heck, but I can also appreciate the whirlwind romance of it all. And the genuine sparkle in his eye. It's got second chance romance vibes and I'm here for it. At least, I'm here for my mom's happiness. She's been through hell in the last two years.

Their joy is infectious. As much as I want to be the drab, moody teenager, my mom truly deserves this, despite the fact it's the absolute last place I want to be.

"Rosalie," Darren shifts his attention, clearing his throat as he slips his hand into my mom's and takes a few steps forward. "I am so happy you both are here. Can I show you around? Show you your room?"

I smile. "It's Rosie," I correct him, immediately slapping a metaphoric hand to my face for how bitchy that came off. "I mean, everyone calls me Rosie. And yes. I'd love to put my stuff down. See my room."

"That's right. I'm so sorry, Rosie. And let me help with your bags." He grabs a few of our things, leading the way up the steps to the front door. "I was hoping Nolan would be here to greet you both, but with the football season nearly upon us, I'm afraid he'll be hard to catch these next few months."

Oh, did I mention Darren has a son? Yep. My soon to be stepbrother.

"Of course," my mom smiles. "I know how much football means to him. I can't wait to see him again. And for Rosie and him to meet."

Yep. Can't wait.

I take note of the swing on the front porch, the set of chairs on the opposite side. It reminds me of a movie, of people gathering out front to have moonlit talks. Is that something they do here? Do they actually use their porch as a place of meeting? Or is it all for show like it is back home?

He opens one of the large double doors, pushing it open before allowing my mom and me to enter first. The ceilings reach the sky, the large open space in front of me lined in wall to ceiling windows. The view is breathtaking. Large rolling mountain sides line the sky, vast fields of greens and wheat colored grasses extend for miles.

I didn't know places like this existed in California. It feels like a hidden gem tucked away for those privy enough to its secret.

"This is the great room," Darren expresses. "Bought the house on this view alone."

"It's unbelievable," my mom mutters, her breath just as muffled as mine.

Darren proceeds to show us the rest of the house. The kitchen, complete with a massive island and a breakfast nook for casual dining. The formal dining room is just off the kitchen, with its own jaw dropping view. Beyond that is the family room, a much cozier vibe than the great room.

"Just down the hall is your room, Rosie," he says, gesturing down the hallway. "I'll let you explore on your own. It's the last door on the left."

"Thank you."

I make my way down the long hall as I hear Darren mention something about showing my mom their room. It's weird to think. Just a few days ago her and I were sharing a one bedroom apartment, just about two years ago she was sharing a room with my dad in our home, and now she's bunking with a man we just drove across the country for.

Ignoring the fast pace of it all, I continue down the large tile flooring. The first door comes into view and I can't help but pause. The door is slightly ajar and my curiosity gets the best of me as I peak inside. The dark blue comforter stands against the deep wooden bedframe. The dark colors a vast contrast to the vibrant white walls. The same dark wood is used as shelving along the walls. Various football helmets line the shelves, pops of trophies and other accolades taking up all available space.

I drop my gaze to the small desk in the corner. On the back of the chair lies a blue and white letterman's jacket. I roll my eyes at the sheer cliche of it all. Could this place get anymore small town?

I continue to my room, shaking my head as I enter the last door on the left. I'm hit with a sense of nostalgia. Mom told me she sent my things over, but seeing some of my items from my home back in Autumn Grove hits me in a way I wasn't expecting. The deep red bedspread is accented with my black silk pillows and the cold, tile floor is blanketed in my thick black carpet. My black and gold embroidered dressers line the walls.

After we lost the house, Mom moved most of our things to storage. There just wasn't room in our apartment for all of our things. She sold a lot of the furniture. To be honest, I didn't want to be part of any of it. To see the pieces that made up our home sold to someone else. I wasn't really sure of what she kept. But seeing my room resemble the one I once knew, makes it feel a lot like I'm home.

"Do you like it?" she asks from behind me.

I turn to see my mom in the doorway. She's alone this time, a small gleam in her eye.

"You kept everything."

Her brow pulls together before a smile catches the corner of her mouth. "Of course I did. We can finally build a home again, sweetheart. I hope you can see that's all I'm trying to do. A fresh start. Me and you against the world."

I smile. "A fresh start."

"I made you a promise, Rosie," she says, her tone dropping and her eyes taking on a serious veil. "If you're not happy here, we won't stay. I know how fast this all is, but I won't be walking down the aisle anytime soon. Not until we can see this is a good fit for both of us. You come first. You always will. All I ask is you give it a chance. See the potential here before giving up on it."

I know she'd leave if I asked her to. I knew before we left that she'd stay in New York, in our tiny apartment, working two jobs just to keep us afloat, if I asked her to. But I meant it when I said she deserves this. Besides, I'm off to college in a year. Back to New York to the National Ballet Academy. At least, that's the plan.

I can do one year in Blueridge, California. For my mom.

"I know, Mom."

"I love you, Rosie-girl."

"I love you, too, Mom."

And maybe she's right. Maybe this is exactly what we need, to start over.

Even if I am surrounded by cows. 

~*~*~*~

Welcome to Every Rose! I am so glad you are here. I don't have a specific update schedule, but I do intend to aim for a chapter a week. Some weeks might have more and others might be skipped. I will do my best to keep this story going regularly.

In the meantime, is there anything you're looking forward to in this story? Do you enjoy the stepbrother trope? I can't wait to keep sharing this one with you all! 

❤️Amanda