Rumer Has It

Rumor has it Josh Peterson was planning on being completely naked underneath his graduation gown. Not only that, but the moment after he gets his diploma and shakes Principal Gussman’s hand he is going to flash the entire senior class and all those attending the ceremony.

That was the rumor at least.

With only a few hours left until graduation it definitely was going to go down as one of the longest running rumors in my high school’s history.

It wasn’t the only one though. There was also me, Rumer Mills.

Just another basic, rich, white girl with daddy issues and lots more freedom than I knew what to do with. My mother worked as an investment banker and while the paychecks were big, her absence in my life was even bigger. It nearly rivaled the absence of my father, whose name I still hadn’t learned yet.

Both of their lack of interest for their daughter burned a hole in me as a young child. It burned the worst when I had no one to bring for career day, or when I was the only kid who could never go on fieldtrips because I had no one to sign my permission slips.

Back then everyone felt bad for me, but once high school started everyone was envious of the freedom it allowed me. I never had to answer to anyone about what I was doing or where I was going.

And that luxury went both ways for me and my mother. I was lucky if my mom left me a note of where she was going or when she would be back.

Today though was different. I got a package and a bouquet of flowers waiting for me. She must have remembered what today was after all.

I placed my phone on the counter, sliding onto the bar stool as I grabbed the package, my name scribed across it.

I ripped the top open and reached in, pulling out a little black notebook. The leather material was a bit worn, and multiple pages were ripped out. The remaining few pages were bent and crinkled. I wasn’t expecting a graduation gift, but if an old, worn notebook was the best she could do then clearly she knew a lot less about me than I gave her credit for.

There had to be less than a hundred pages in the book, every single one of them blank. I tossed the notebook aside, looking back in the package for anything else.

Reaching back in I felt my fingertips graze what felt like a folded piece of notebook paper. I pulled it out, seeing it had writing taking up every inch of it. I opened it up, flipping it over to see it was a letter, addressed to me.

My Dearest and Wildest Rumer,

I prayed this day would never come and I wished for nothing more but to tell you this in person, but unseen circumstances have left me no choice.

Everything I have done up to this point has been about preparing you. You have grown into such a confident, smart, and independent young woman. You will need all of those things to prepare you for your journey.

I never have shared with you where you or your name have come from, and maybe you have conjured your own ideas, but this is the truth. When I was just fifteen years old I fell in love with a much older boy. He was smart, handsome, kind, and loyal. He cared about me like no one ever had before.

His only downfall was his bloodline. A high profile, wealthy, and power hungry family that would do anything to protect their own. They were restless in their attempts to stop us from being together, and us being so young and naive we didn’t listen and continued our relationship in secret.

It wasn’t until I found out I was pregnant that I realized just how catastrophic our relationship was. Living in a small christian community it would have destroyed both of our families if anyone found out about us and my pregnancy. The rumors started quickly after that, from our illegal relationship to my unlawful pregnancy. The longer we denied anything, the dirtier the rumors got. I didn’t care though, because you were mine, and mine only. In a way you really were my rumor. My beautiful, sacred, and precious rumor...

My phone buzzed loudly on the counter, making me jump in my seat. I quickly answered it, not even bothering to look at the Caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey! I texted you but you didn’t respond, just wanted to let you know I’m on my way to pick you up!” It took me a second to stop reading the letter and acknowledge who was on the other line.

“Rue?” The familiar and chippy voice of my friend Shelby asked.

“Oh hey, yeah sorry, I’m just um...finishing the last touches of my makeup. I’ll be ready when you get here.” I said, flipping the letter over.

“Great, see you soon!” She cheered. I hung up quickly, dropping my phone on the counter so I could hold the letter with both hands, afraid it would grow legs and run away with the answers to the two biggest questions I’ve had about my life.

…….I had heard all of the rumors being spread around about me for so long but I wasn’t afraid to speak my truth or to confess my love for your father. That was until his mother found out.

At the time, she was running for mayor and news of her nineteen year old son having a relationship with a fifteen year old girl was not the kind of publicity she needed for her campaign. I had tried to explain that we were in love and planning on running away together, but she wouldn’t let us. She wasn’t going to let a poor church girl like me ruin her Yale-bound son.

There is no easy way to say this, but his mother ended up paying me $25,000 dollars in cash to have an aborton. She already had the clinic and doctor picked out nearly 800 miles away to get it done.

I frantically went to your father, handing him the money and telling him what his mother offered. I thought he would be on my side, I thought he loved me enough, but she had gotten to him first. He told me to take the money, go get the aborton, and then forget about him. He wouldn’t be with me nor would he wait for me.

It still is by far, the worst heartbreak I have ever felt. It was the last time I ever saw him.

I still hear the last words his mother spat at me the day I left my life behind. She said, “Save yourself and your family. Either get rid of that child, or I make sure that child grows up an orphan.” I never have doubted her words or the lengths she would go to secure her family’s reputation.

Out of all the rumors spread through my hometown, the one of Christian Edwards getting an underaged Leanne Mills pregnant was true; and so was the rumor of her leaving with the money and never being seen again.

I went to that abortion doctor and instead of paying for her to abort you, I ended up paying 5,000 dollars in abortions for the others girls that were there that day; who all had far better reasons to give up their child than I did.

I’ve saved the remaining $20,000 dollars for you, Rumer. I hoped it would be for college, a new car, or maybe your dream wedding, but now it must be used for your survival.

They know Rumer. Your father and your grandmother. They will be after me and maybe even you. You can never tell anyone who you are. You hold a very dangerous card, one you can never play. I am asking you to do what I could not: Don’t live in fear. Take the money, disappear, start over, and never come looking for me. There is a card hidden in the flowers I had sent along with this notebook. Inside will tell you where the money is.

I want you to understand I had a reason for everything I did Rumer.

Stay safe and just know I love you.

Goodbye,

Mom.

What in the actual fuck. I let the letter fall from my fingertips, numb in my heart and mind.

Everything she did had a reason? Is that why she worked such long hours? Did she do it not because she cared more about her career than me, but because she knew one day I might not have a choice but to learn how to survive on my own?

How had she survived for so long on her own? What had she gone through at the young age of fifteen to get here; In this gated community and expensive house?

I frantically grabbed the bouquet of flowers, ripping the card out and opening it up.

Start Digging.

That’s it? All she writes? I looked up and out towards the back patio door, eyeing my mother’s garden. I clutched the letter in my hand as I moved from my stool across the kitchen to reach the back door.

Stepping outside I realized this garden was the only thing my mother and I ever did together. She always had such a particular way she cared for it, and now I might know why.

There was always this one flower that I was never allowed to touch. Over the last decade of us living here, it never seemed to grow or die. It sat in the far corner of the garden, all by itself, a large perimeter of dirt surrounding it.

I stepped along the soil that was still wet from the rain last night, sinking to my knees in front of the single flower. It was a peony flower, hot pink in color, and when touched completely fake and plastic.

I scoffed in disbelief; there was no way all of this could be true. I started to swipe away at the dirt surrounding the steam, finding the top edges of what looked to be a plastic bucket. Grabbing onto the steam I yanked hard, lifting the entire flower up and all the dirt filled in the bucket with it. I tossed it aside, looking into the perfectly crafted hole and finding two large plastic bags sitting on top of each other.

I grabbed the first one, wiping away excess dirt and finding stacks of perfectly crisped 100 dollar bills inside. When looking down at the other bag it was filled with the same crisped bills.

I covered my mouth with my free hand, from stopping myself from crying or screaming...I wasn’t sure.

$20,000 dollars. All for me. In cash. To start a new life. She had kept me and this money a rumor for eighteen years. Now all of a sudden it was my ticket to a life that would be completely my own. $20,000 dollars to forget a mother I never even really knew in the first place.

Could I do it? Could I put a price on never seeing my mother again? Never exposing what my grandmother did to her? Never knowing what happens to her?

She left the only life she knew, leaving only rumors behind. How could no one bother to go after her? Isn’t that what she expected of me now? Was she demanding I forget her like everyone else apparently did?

The last anyone heard about my mother was that she was rumored to have been paid to go have an abortion; leaving with the money and never being seen again.

Holding that same money now it looks like I was about to repeat history, but with a very different motive.