Don’t Stopby Maude ZbornakGingerRose Week #3, Mars (War) In which Rose lives through a war fro

Don’t Stopby Maude ZbornakGingerRose Week #3, Mars (War) In which Rose lives through a war from a different point of view. ALSO ON AO3Nobody in Hays drove a town car. One saw plenty of them rolling down the major highway through the business district. Busy government officials commuting from the distant capital to perform unwelcome but necessary work. So long as the town cars stayed to the main artery connecting Hays with the rest of the country, hearts remained full of hope.When one turned onto a side street and slowed, bystanders worried. So it happened one day when Rose was exiting the bakery with her sister Paige, bags in hand and the day’s chores on her mind, when such a car pulled to the curb.Rose swallowed back the bile. She considered the possibility that the car’s owner might have gone to her house first, then tracked her into town to deliver the news. Rose stood with her sister at the bakery’s entrance, unable to move except for the wild beating of her heart causing her to vibrate in place.Don’t stop, she prayed on seeing the unsmiling man in the gray suit. The white envelope in his hand glowed. She knew its contents, just not its subject. Don’t stop. If he stopped in front of her, she’d know. Don’t stop. Please… The man approached and, with a small smile, tipped his hat in greeting as he walked past both ladies to the door next to the bakery. Rose watched him press the buzzer and ask for Mrs. Smith.Rose walked away on shaking legs, her arm linked with Paige’s. “It’s alright, Ro,” her sister whispered. Yet, it wasn’t. Not for Mrs. Smith.~*~Rose wanted one evening to herself, eventless and quiet. She encouraged Paige to return home to their parents, then had her supper and left the radio off. She would have preferred some background music but feared the interruption of a special bulletin.She grabbed a Coke from the icebox and sat out on her front porch steps to watch the sunset. Hers was a small neighborhood for the time being, with several plots not yet developed. The hope was to see it filled with families. Young children playing in yards and chasing pets, older folks savoring the aroma of backyard barbecues. People in outdoor rockers, carrying on across-the-street conversations. Hopefully when all this was over–that was the mantra many chose.Rose herself adopted the philosophy of no news being good news months prior, when the regular correspondence ceased. No letters, no telegrams, no operators interrupting her on the party line with urgent messages. Presently she existed in a purgatory of her own design, one free of dust. She refused to stray from routine on the off chance it might inspire a curse. Neglect to clean the sink, let the waxy yellow buildup accumulate on the kitchen floor… a town car stops in front of the house.Just like the one turning onto her street. Rose knocked over her soda. Fizzy liquid spilled and sizzled on the hardwood. Only four homes here were occupied. The Ackbars were older and childless. Miss Kanata lived alone. That left her and the Solos, with their only son away, next door.Don’t stop.  She hated to manifest the words. She knew Leia and Han’s son, and had grown up with him. Ben was sweet on her best friend, and intended to marry her once this mess ended. Rose hated wanting to believe this town car delivered sad news for her dear neighbors, but damn it, she wasn’t ready for this.Don’t stop.  This time the car didn’t listen. The engine cut next to her mailbox. The car blended in with the road thanks to the tears blurring her vision.She braced her hand on the porch floor. Her skin turned sticky and cold from the spill. She began to cry, for herself and for Armitage. Her love since childhood, her husband for a too-short span of time. Another victim of the machinations of war, another subject of an unfeeling type-written condolence Rose was supposed to frame on her wall with pride, next to a folded coffin flag.Rose wiped her tears and straightened in her seat. No, she decided. Tears solved nothing. She’d save her sorrow for later. The gods of war deserved her rage, and she waited for their messenger to approach before delivering it.She focused on the bowed head visible from the front passenger window. Same suit, same hat, same crewcut. The capital must keep a herd of clones to disperse just for this purpose. Heaven forbid the war might end and give them nothing to do. Rose waited for him to open his door.Yet the back passenger door facing her home opened first. A foot touched the road. A long leg followed. A tall body in uniform emerged and unfolded. One arm in a sling, the other tugging at a large duffel. He wore a side cap. Underneath that, red hair and a smile.It shot straight into Rose’s heart and lodged a hook in deep. Pulled her to him. Rose didn’t feel her feet touch the grass when she ran to welcome her husband home. Don’t stop, she willed her body.  Don’t stop until you’re in his arms again. -- source link

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