Maxwell's cigarette had burned down to the nub, the glowing ember singeing his fingertips. He casually snuffed out the butt in the ashtray. "…Got it."
Rosemary looked at him with a smirk that wasn't quite a smile, her sarcasm clear as day even though she didn't call him out.
Dinner ended in that awkward vibe.
After the meal, Uncle invited them over to his place.
Rosemary turned him down: "I've been on the road all day. I just want to hit the sack at the hotel and recharge a bit. After I pay my respects to Grandpa tomorrow, I'll swing by and see you and Auntie."
Penny couldn't let her golden goose slip away that easily. Sure, Rosemary talked a good game, but who knew if she'd show up post-tribute? If Rosemary bolted back to Greenwood, where would Penny even begin to look for her?
This was about her son's future, after all—she needed to keep an eye on the prize.
So she grabbed Rosemary's arm and yanked her towards the car, putting on a stern face as she scolded: "We're family, for crying out loud. How can I let you crash at a hotel when you come back to Havenfield? Our place isn't a mansion, but we can rustle up a room or two. Tomorrow, your Uncle can take you to your grandpa's grave."
"No need to bother Uncle, I know where it is."
In Havenfield, there's a tradition: sons visit graves after the New Year, daughters and grandchildren before.
"The past couple of years have been rough for us. We had a feng shui master take a look, and he said your grandpa's grave was in a bad spot, so we moved it. Just haven't had a chance to tell you yet. The new spot's a bit tricky to find, no proper name and all, hard to pin down on GPS. I'll feel better if your Uncle takes you."
The grave moving wasn't a fib, so Penny wasn't fretting about being busted tomorrow.
With the matter put like that, Rosemary had no choice but to go. She turned to Martin: "I'll drop you at the hotel first, then come pick you up tomorrow."
"If Mr. Gellar doesn't mind, he can stay over too. You've come all this way to pay tribute, which is really thoughtful," She had to keep this golden goose happy too: "Staying at a hotel during the holidays, all by your lonesome? Sounds miserable."
And so, the group headed to Jeremy's place.
With not enough room in the car, Penny and Harry Chambers took a cab.
Jeremy's place was a classic four-bedroom, two-living room setup, all decked out in minimalist style, clean and fresh. Penny changed the sheets, gave the guest room a thorough clean, and then told Rosemary: "Tonight, you and Maxwell can bunk in the bigger room, and Mr. Gellar will take the other."
Rosemary: "Auntie, I can just curl up on the couch for the night."
She was already scoping out flights back to Greenwood for the next day. She had planned to stay through the New Year's for a sort of holiday, but now she was saddled with two dead weights.
Thinking this, her glances at Maxwell grew even more resentful.
It was all this jerk's fault!
Maxwell turned around, catching her glare: "Got a big problem with me?"
"Yeah, so could you be a dear and buzz off?"
"No can do, so if you've got complaints, just... suck it up."
Rosemary: "..."
Penny shot her a reproachful look: "In this freezing weather, you'll catch your death on the couch. You and Maxwell are husband and wife, sharing a bed is only natural."
She was banking on a reunion to rake in some benefits. No bed-sharing, no reunion.
"We're divorced."
"You've shared a bed for three years, a day or two more won't hurt."


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