Chapter 5- Little Rose Cherry pt 5
When she woke up the next morning Rosa had never felt so warm, so content, and so loved. She had finally found the woo-hoo, the spark, the final key that sent her orgasms through the stratosphere, and his name was Harper. And yet, she felt this annoying prick of guilt in the back of her mind that wouldn't go away. It wasn't loud. It wasn't harsh. It was just there, and it made her uncomfortable and doubt herself and her feelings.
Yes, she was ten years older than Harper, but so what! Guys married girls ten years younger than them, and even younger all the time! So why did she feel like she was robbing him of his future?
Then there was the fact that she had just met him two days ago. Was she moving too fast? It didn't feel like it was. Shit, Harper had his hands in her pants like two minutes after they met!
Well, that had been her fault, but still...
Then there was masturbating together in the dark until he came all over her! Which had kind of been her fault too...
Harper stirred behind her and whispered, "Are you awake?"
She needed to tell him how she felt. Then maybe by judging how he took it would give her some clarity as to whether she should continue their relationship or not.
----(!)----
The rest of the month passed by like a romantic dream. She couldn't remember being happier in her life. Her only regret was not saying emphatically "Yes!" when Harper asked her to be his girlfriend.
Despite her answer he was the perfect boyfriend all month, and then August came. It was the final push to finish up all the projects around the house, and with one week left before her tenants arrived she was a nervous wreck. She was such a ball of nerves she was making herself sick. Every morning she woke up nauseous and spent at least an hour either puking, or hovering over the toilet feeling like she was going to!
Then the weekend before her grand opening she invited her family over for dinner. Her mother arrived early to help her prepare, but Harper had been a huge help. Still, once Marisol Alcaraz arrived she gave Rosa and Harper an appraising look with a raised eyebrow. Rosa cringed as her mother evaluated their relationship status with a glance, and then Marisol shooed Harper out of the kitchen so that the women could work.
"He's too young for you," Marisol mumbled as she closed the kitchen door and came over to stand by Rosa and finished chopping the bell peppers Harper had been working on.
"Mama," Rosa sighed as she shook her head to deny their relationship, "He's just my maintenance man. If he wasn't here I never would have finished the house on time..."
"Please," Marisol said, her tone telegraphing her skepticism, "Go tell your father lies. He's obtuse enough he might believe them. I on the other hand could see as soon as I walked in that the boy is head over heels in love with you.
"Mama!" Rosa gasped as she shook her head though it was with an embarrassed smile.
"Oh!" Marisol gasped as she gazed at her daughter's blushing face, "I see! So you are in love with him as well. I am happy for you then, but I still think he is too young for you. You should be looking for a man who can take care of you, not a boy."
"Boys grow up to become men, mama," Rosa retorted, respectfully, "He may be younger than me, but I have met very few men that are as mature. I think it is because he comes from a large family as well."
"Mmm," Marisol hummed noncommittally. "If you say so, then I will say no more than this last piece of advice. Go slow, and be patient. That young man may be mature for his age, but he is still very young. There will be things you two will not see eye to eye on simply because you are more experienced than he is, and you will have to be twice as patient because of it. And, because of your age your roles may be reversed. He may see you as an authority now, however, at some point young boys want to be respected as men. When that day comes, you must make him feel like you respect him, as the head of your house, and as your husband... You...do...plan on marrying him, don't you?"
"Mama!" Rosa gasped with an exasperated smile, "I don't know! We have only known each other for a month!"
"A day... A month... whatever, if you know him well enough to have intercourse, you should know him well enough to know if you could marry him or not," Marisol retorted in firm disapproval, "In my day women held their bodies as ransom until a man was willing to pay for the privilege of partaking of our bodies with a contract of commitment..."
"Yeah yeah, mama, so you've said a hundred times," Rosa replied as she sliced chicken breasts into small strips, "And yet, all it seems to do is shackle women to an antiquated ideology and role. Men still leave, cheat, and abuse. While the good and proper wife is supposed to be barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen making dinner."
Marisol shook her head as she walked to the sink and washed her hands before returning and starting the next task. Once she got started she couldn't hold her tongue any more and turned to her daughter, "Rosa, my lovely Rosa, it is a deception to think that men are the only ones that leave, cheat and abuse. Women are all of those things just as often. The marriage contract between a man and woman isn't a 'cure all' that makes bad people good. It's a contract of responsibility and obligations, yours to him and his to you. The courting process is the filter that helps you weed out the bad guys from the good. Afterward, if you didn't care enough or work hard enough and you marry a bad man, it isn't the 'Constitution of Marriage' that is at fault. It's yours! For not being discriminating enough, and it's his for being a good-for-nothing bastard! Marriage is the first, and foundational, contract that makes human beings civilized. All of human civilization is built on it. So, if that boy out there is a good man, if he really loves you, then he will commit to you and marry you, but there again, Rosalina, you must be a good woman deserving that commitment as well."
"Yeah, mama," Rosa answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I see your point, and I promise, I will think about what you've said. For now though, I don't want to discuss it anymore, and please mama, don't say anything to papa!"
"Okay okay, fine," Marisol acquiesced with a shake of her head as she went back to her task, "Your father may be a bit obtuse honey, but is no fool."
The aroma of food in the kitchen spiked and all of a sudden a wave of nausea swept over her. Her mouth started watering, and she was swallowing to try to stave off what she felt coming up from her belly. In a sudden rush she slammed her knife to the counter and ran for the kitchen door and to the guest bathroom.
"Honey?" Marisol asked, her voice full of concern as Rosa dashed out of the kitchen.
Rosa made it to the toilet just in time to empty her stomach into its porcelain basin. She hovered there for several minutes, and then she flushed the toilet and turned to wash her hands only to find her mother standing in the doorway.
