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1--
The first time Dill and Rosemary meet is at a frat party, junior year of college.
Well, meet is a bit of an overstatement.
Rosemary is spectacularly drunk. She’s newly single and as much as she tells everyone she’s fine, it’s his loss, it still stings a little. Her friends have prescribed treatment in the form of random hook-up therapy; after all, as Anna tells her time and time again, “the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, Rosie!” She just shakes her head and allows herself to be dragged to kegger after kegger.
That’s what got her here, to this moment. She’s been dancing with some guy (Kevin? No, Kyle.) under a cheap disco ball for what feels like forever, and now he’s leading her by the hand up a too-narrow stairway to a “more private place” and if this doesn’t fulfill her random hook-up requirement for the night, she doesn’t know what will.
They burst through the only unlocked door they can find, his hand already halfway up her shirt and his mouth on her neck, then -
“Occupied!”
The would-be lovers fly apart. There’s a man lying propped up on his elbows on the bed, shooting an indignant look in their direction, and a man straddling his waist, eyes wide and looking like he’s ready to bolt - shirts unbuttoned and hair tousled and mouths swollen, the very epitome of being caught red-handed.
Rosemary can’t stop giggling. Kyle - wait, no, it’s definitely Kurt - manages to keep it together somehow and says, “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize anyone was in here.” There’s a moment of awkward silence, everyone just staring at one another, before he continues, “Hey, this is the only available room, think we could share?”
“No!” the man on the bed yells. His face is turning purple - when they look back on this moment years later, Dill and Rosemary will both find this hilarious.
“Okay! Sorry, my bad.” They just barely cross the threshold before bed-man gets up and storms over, slams the door shut and locks it with far more force than she really thinks necessary.
Rosemary turns to Kurt. “Were they…?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, I think they were.”
2--
The dreaded blind double date.
Rosemary and Anna are in this dingy hole-in-the-wall bar (“They have the BEST nachos, Rosie”); there’s a distinct smell of cannabis in the air, to which they may or may not have contributed.
“His name is Dill. He’s a senior in the business school and he has beautiful hair.”
“Well, as long as his hair is pretty.”
“Come on, Rosie! I know how you feel about set-ups but please, give him a chance. I really think you’ll like him.”
Rosemary runs a finger around the rim of her glass. “I’ll try. But don’t expect a miracle--”
And she’s completely lost Anna’s attention as her boyfriend enters the bar. “Miles!” They exchange a sloppy kiss as a greeting; Rosemary rolls her eyes, then looks at the man taking a seat across from her.
“You must be Rosemary. I’m Dill,” he says, completely ignoring the PDA going on beside them. He reaches out a hand, which she shakes slowly.
“You look familiar. Have we had a class together or something?”
“Are you in the business school?”
She snorts. “No, design.” Her eyes rake over his face, and finally it clicks. “You were that guy!”
Dill furrows his brows. “I could be, I suppose?”
“At that party! Um, Theta-Chi’s Mardi Gras party last year. I walked in on you--”
“OH. Oh. Yeah, that was me.” He’s slowly turning red, neck to cheeks to ears.
“I thought you were--”
“No. Just an experimentation phase. Didn’t work out.”
“I can see that,” she giggles.
Anna and Miles have finally detached and are watching this exchange with apt attention. “You guys already know each other?” Miles finally asks.
Rosemary and Dill exchange a look. “More… acquaintances,” he splutters. She hides a grin behind her beer, and they leave it at that.
3--
Two years down the road, Rosemary is concerned.
She’s a week late. And she’s NEVER late.
So she drags Anna to the doctor, and she only tells Dill when she’s sure. He stares at her for a minute, eyes wide, jaw on the floor - and then he walks out and she starts bawling. Anna comes in from the other room, absolutely livid and demanding to go after him, but Rosemary grabs her and just clings.
Five minutes later, she’s weeping and blubbering all over Anna. Ten, she’s actually keening. Thirty, she’s pacing angrily around the room, ranting about Dill. An hour, she’s soaking Anna’s shirt again, and two hours, she’s back to yelling about Dill. Three, she’s crying these terrible body-wracking sobs, Anna still dutifully holding her tight and patting her head.
Finally, four hours later, she’s nearly cried herself to sleep, and Dill returns. Anna immediately opens her mouth to start in on him, but Rosemary lifts her head weakly and glares at him. “What the hell is your problem?” she asks calmly.
“I, uh. I had to go do something.”
“Do something?” Anna demands, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“Anna, could we have a moment please?” he asks.
Anna looks to Rosemary, who nods permission, before she leaves the room. She makes a throat-cutting motion at him over her shoulder before she goes. Dill kneels in front of Rosemary, grabs her hands and holds them when she tries to pull away.
“Rosie. I’m sorry I left, I just -- wait, let me restart.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and starts again. “Rosie, I love you. You’re my better half. You keep me grounded. You make me want to be a better person, and if the last two years have meant anything, you feel the same way. There’s no one on earth I’d rather have a child with, and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. The reason I left--” he pauses and reaches into his pocket, pulls out a ring. “--was to get this.”
“Dill, are you--”
“Yes, Rosie. I’m asking you to marry me.”
She’s crying again - how the hell have her eyes managed to produce this much liquid? - and she’s nodding like her life depends on it. She grabs him by the shirt and yanks him in for a kiss before she manages a yes.
4--
Olive’s birth is pretty much a blur to Rosemary, in retrospect.
She remembers pain, mostly; the most intense pain she’s ever felt, or will ever feel, like someone’s grabbing her around the abdomen and squeezing and pushing down.
She remembers being hot. She refuses to cover up; when Dill tries laying a blanket over her, she kicks it off, right into his face, and she’s pretty sure Anna has seen more of her than she ever wanted to.
She remembers being thirsty. She whines at anyone who will listen, but they all ask her the same damn question with this stupid hopeful expression on their face: ice chips? She’s tired of chewing on fucking ice chips, her mouth is going numb from the cold, and it doesn’t make her any less thirsty, damn it.
She remembers being told to push. Hold your breath, your breath is your power, and push as hard as you can. She remembers Dill and Anna on either side of her, holding her legs up, and she remembers grabbing their hands and squeezing She remembers leaving bruises.
She remembers thinking she can’t do it any more, wanting to give up, then realizing it’s too late for that, she can’t give up.
The next part she remembers as clear as yesterday - the doctor puts this tiny thing in her arms, this tiny wrinkly pink thing that’s just wailing away. Dill and Anna are hovering over her, and they’re both crying. It’s a girl, Dill tells her. Our little Olive is here.
Then a nurse pulls her baby girl out of her arms, and she flips. She can’t get a full sentence out, but she motions in the direction they took the baby and mutters phrases like my baby, give her back. Anna takes her hand and explains quietly they’re just cleaning her up and taking measurements. After what feels like forever, they put Olive back in her arms, and she feels complete.
5--
Fast forward 18 years or so. Dill and Rosemary listen as their daughter runs out to this Woodchuck Todd guy, cheesy 80’s movie style, and close the laptop.
“I think we did pretty good,” Dill says, bumping shoulders with his wife.
“Yeah, I think so too.” She kisses him gently, then it’s on to the next crisis.