Rosemary's Uncle John

Rosemary spoke to her mother slowly, stammering a bit. "I just, um, I wanted, I just wanted.."she said as her mother inspected Rosemary's finger, peering out of her thick glasses.
"It looks fine, I don't see anything Rosie...stay away from the flowers like I told you last time." her mother said, pushing her glasses back on her long thin nose. Her fingers appeared skeletal, she had lost so much weight since she got sick.
"But it hurts mommy, it hurts and it was bleeding.." Rosemary protested. She stopped, seeing that her mother had gone back to her reading. She read the newspaper daily until her fingers were stained black with ink. Sometimes she absently smeared her face and dress with it.
" Go play Rosemary" her mother sighed, leaning back into the dusty couch. " You'll be fine. Your Uncle John will be home soon so make sure you don't get your dress any dirtier please."
" He's not my uncle Mommy, he's your friend. He's not your brother, he's not anyone's brother around here!" Rosemary muttered frowning.
"He's your uncle if I say he's your uncle, now go on before I get the belt out." her mother said, not looking up from the society pages. "Must be nice to go to Paris France for a vacation.. I wouldn't know..." she mused to herself.

Rosemary went out the screen door, pausing to stick her tounge out at her mother from around the corner. If her mother caught her doing that, she washed her mouth out with soap, so Rosemary learned not to get caught. She saw a flash of green out the of the corner of her eye, a large grasshopper lighted on the porch step near her. She pushed on her finger, squeezed and held it to try and make it bleed again. But nothing came of it and the grasshopper jumped away.
Rosemary kicked at the front walkway gravel, kicked out of frustration. She hated summer, hated playing alone. Uncle John was not her uncle, he was her mother's boyfriend of sorts, mostly he just ate and slept there and yelled at Rosemary when he felt like it. He never raised a hand to her, that was her mother's job after all. She saw the way he followed Rosemary with his eyes, watching like he as waiting for something, what it was Rosemary was not quite sure. It made her uneasy, deep in her stomach and most of the time she just stayed in her room when he was over. Sometimes he tried to hug her, but she slipped down out of his arms and ran away. Her mother had nothing to say about it lately, so she figured it was ok not to let him hug her. He smelled of aftershave and dirt to Rosemary.