The Forgeries of Jealousy
The first and last chapter
i. this is what I brought you, this you can keep…
“Well, hello there, Rosaline. Happy birthday!” Lydia greeted her dear friend, handing her a bag of mushrooms.
“Thank you!” Rosaline said in reply, pure joy and gratitude gracing her old, wrinkled face.
Lydia grinned, “I knew you would like them…grown right out of my backyard. Organic…fresh…just the way you like it,” she said enticingly.
Rosaline chuckled as she said, “I know just what to do with them! I’ll make soup tonight for the family coming over to celebrate....they'll love it!”
“Perfect,” Lydia smiled. Oh, the irony of it all. Rosaline really had no idea what was in store for her on her 75th birthday.
--
ii. this is what I brought, you may forget me…
She has everything, Lydia thought bitterly, a husband, loving kids, adorable grandchildren, and a cute tabby cat named Clara. Everything under the sun. Everything I don't have.
She looked at the picture beside her of her and Rosaline, an old picture of them at graduation, their youthful, carefree faces smiling back at her, making her all the more sour. Fingering the frame, she thought, it’s only fair, isn’t it?
--
iii. I promise to depart, just promise one thing…
“Grandma Rose,” six year old Ellie exclaimed, “happy birthday!” and she ran into her grandmother’s arms as the front door swung open, Ellie's family still pouring out of the SUV in the driveway.
“Thank you sweetie!” she said to her favorite granddaughter as they walked into the kitchen where she was preparing the food.
“What’s that?” Ellie said, pointing at the bag of mushrooms sitting on the top of the kitchen table.
“We’re having soup tonight for my birthday dinner. Those are the mushrooms my friend gave to me so kindly.”
“Lydia?”
“Yes, honey.”
“I don’t like Lydia,” the six year old said, her brow furrowing.
“Now, Eleanor Talia Ryan, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” Rosaline scolded her grandchild.
If only she knew…
--
iv. kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep…
Rosaline had Ellie and Ellie’s older sister, Rachel, helping her with the dinner in the kitchen. It was just about ready.
“How about a little taste before we serve it, eh?” Rosaline suggested to her granddaughters.
“You go first, Grandma Rose, it’s your birthday,” Rachel said, beckoning toward the pot.
“Since you insist,” she said, taking a sip. It was the last thing she would ever say. Suddenly, she felt her joints weaken as she fell to the kitchen floor, her eyes closed, never to open again.
The rest of her family found out later the mushrooms were poisoned.
“Well, hello there, Rosaline. Happy birthday!” Lydia greeted her dear friend, handing her a bag of mushrooms.
“Thank you!” Rosaline said in reply, pure joy and gratitude gracing her old, wrinkled face.
Lydia grinned, “I knew you would like them…grown right out of my backyard. Organic…fresh…just the way you like it,” she said enticingly.
Rosaline chuckled as she said, “I know just what to do with them! I’ll make soup tonight for the family coming over to celebrate....they'll love it!”
“Perfect,” Lydia smiled. Oh, the irony of it all. Rosaline really had no idea what was in store for her on her 75th birthday.
--
ii. this is what I brought, you may forget me…
She has everything, Lydia thought bitterly, a husband, loving kids, adorable grandchildren, and a cute tabby cat named Clara. Everything under the sun. Everything I don't have.
She looked at the picture beside her of her and Rosaline, an old picture of them at graduation, their youthful, carefree faces smiling back at her, making her all the more sour. Fingering the frame, she thought, it’s only fair, isn’t it?
--
iii. I promise to depart, just promise one thing…
“Grandma Rose,” six year old Ellie exclaimed, “happy birthday!” and she ran into her grandmother’s arms as the front door swung open, Ellie's family still pouring out of the SUV in the driveway.
“Thank you sweetie!” she said to her favorite granddaughter as they walked into the kitchen where she was preparing the food.
“What’s that?” Ellie said, pointing at the bag of mushrooms sitting on the top of the kitchen table.
“We’re having soup tonight for my birthday dinner. Those are the mushrooms my friend gave to me so kindly.”
“Lydia?”
“Yes, honey.”
“I don’t like Lydia,” the six year old said, her brow furrowing.
“Now, Eleanor Talia Ryan, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” Rosaline scolded her grandchild.
If only she knew…
--
iv. kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep…
Rosaline had Ellie and Ellie’s older sister, Rachel, helping her with the dinner in the kitchen. It was just about ready.
“How about a little taste before we serve it, eh?” Rosaline suggested to her granddaughters.
“You go first, Grandma Rose, it’s your birthday,” Rachel said, beckoning toward the pot.
“Since you insist,” she said, taking a sip. It was the last thing she would ever say. Suddenly, she felt her joints weaken as she fell to the kitchen floor, her eyes closed, never to open again.
The rest of her family found out later the mushrooms were poisoned.
♠ ♠ ♠
Well, that's it. Leave a comment, perhaps? Hope you enjoyed it =)