Scattered Landmines

one

As a young girl, I would dream about what my life would be like when I was grown up. The toys I played with as a young child molded and impacted my desires for my adult self. I would play endlessly with the Barbie dream house, the perfectly handsome Ken desperately waiting at the end of the aisle for his Barbie bride in her glorious ballgown, and the Disney princess that's in distress, but without avail always gets rescued by her one and only Prince Charming. These adolescent fantasies catered my instinct to seek out my very own happily ever after with my own Prince Charming. That might be the start of what nourished the twisted insecurities deep within my subconscious, later leading to the demise of my marriage.

I didn't ask for any of this, particularly when my husband left my children and me for a twenty-two-year-old bartender with fake tits. Cliche as fuck, right? I had to sacrifice alimony to be able to leave the country with my kids, bastard. He is the only man I know that would allow his children to move five thousand miles away just so he could get away with paying less support, but I'm grateful none the less to get as far away from him as possible. Now here I am; in it.

"Miss."

"Excuse me, miss, we're here," said the cab driver disconnecting me from my thoughts. I hadn't even bothered to notice that the car has come to a complete stop.

"Ok. Thank you," I tell the round, patchy-haired man. His silence and quiet music were much appreciated on the drive from the airport to my new home, but the smell of cigarettes covered up by an overbearing pine scent was enough to make me want to gag. I'm sure that scent will be lingering on me until I shower.

The weather is drizzling and beyond cold outside. It's the kind of drizzle that makes your hair limp and any makeup you have on smear like the California mudslides. Thank God I realized I would be traveling to an uncertain climate and chose to wear no makeup, placing my long blonde hair into a top-knot, which pair well with the pajamas I decided on as my traveling ensemble. I didn't put much effort into my appearance, nor do I care, considering I'm tired, no exhausted, and even the long flight and time difference couldn't shut my mind off long enough for a short nap. Now, having just arrived at my father's house in the city of Norwich, England, here I am starting from scratch, forced into a fresh start. Humiliation is the first and only word that comes to my mind to describe how I feel being a thirty-five-year-old divorcée with two kids having to move into her daddy's home with his wife.

"Rosalie, Jesus Mary Ann Joseph, you're finally here!" exclaims my step-mom, Nancy, with her a proper British accent. She embraces me with a warm hug that is full of unconditional love and comfort, which is what I need at this exact moment. "Welcome home, love," she sincerely says, kissing both of my cheeks. I can smell the aroma of juniper billowing her hair.

My dad hit the jackpot with Nancy. Her shoulder-length brown hair is damp from the mist, yet she still maintains a polished and pristine appearance. Her crisp blue blouse tucks into a black pencil skirt that hugs her body accentuating notice to her curves, and of course, she completes the look with a pair of sheer black stalkings and four-inch stilettos. Nancy is an opera singer who sings in five different languages, an exquisite cook, and the person I confide in second-most to my dad, Bill. She's nothing short of perfection, and I guess you could say I hit the jackpot with Nancy as well.

My daughter Camille, who goes by Cami, is right behind Nancy with my son Brooks in tow. He is the shadow of her being who's always tormenting her with his constant presence. Brooks runs into my arms with as much force as a pee-wee linebacker, almost knocking me over, placing the most monumental kiss on my cheek, all while Cami complains to me.

"Mom, the Wi-Fi here sucks. Anything I try to do on my phone takes forever." Cami and Brooks flew out the week before I did, given that I had some loose ends to tie up back home in Texas before I made the final move.