Snow on Magnolias

by Hattie Mae

  “Okay you two, can’t that wait until we leave?”

  Rose jerked her head around to see Sam standing behind her. She was so involved with Lewis and Susan that she didn’t hear him come in.

  “Hi, Red. I didn’t know you were coming here today. Hey little momma, how are you feeling today?”

  “I’m feeling just fine. A little tired but I always am this time of the day. This little one has sure been active this morning. Rose come here, feel this.” Susan placed Rose’s hand on her moving stomach.

  “Mercy, is it okay for him to move that much? This is so unbelievable, a baby, alive and moving, in such a small area. Does it hurt?”

  Laughter came easy to Susan. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I love every minute of that movement, and I can’t wait until he’s born so I can watch him and see what he’s been doing in there. You know chin-ups, boxing or just turning flips. I think just now he was seeing how far he could stretch his arms out.” Susan stifled a yawn.

  “Come on, Rose I’ll walk you to the house. Susan needs her rest. See you later, Lewis.” Sam slapped his brother on the back and Lewis grunted as if Sam had delivered a powerful blow.

  “Bye Susan, we’ll talk again tomorrow. I’ll let you know more about what I find. Thank you for listening.” Rose kissed Susan’s forehead and clutched the letter in her hand.

  The day was beautiful, crisp, and clear with a slight breeze blowing. Rose had hurried alone the same path earlier that morning with a mission of sharing her plans with Susan. But now, walking beside Sam, she was able to relax and notice the beauty around her.

  “Sam, do you have any idea how beautiful this place really is? You and your family are so lucky, I hope you are able to keep it the same forever, a place this beautiful needs to be enjoyed.”

  Sam stopped under the shade of a grand oak. His hands tucked in his back jean pockets gave him the appearance of the young boy she once knew.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “You really like this place?”

  “Who wouldn’t? It’s so grand, a place you would see in the movies. And to think your family built all this. Someone cared enough throughout the years to preserve it for future generations.” Rose found herself beside Sam. She gazed at her surroundings as they stood beside each other, afraid to breath, afraid to break the spell.

  “It’s like your family never dies. Their souls and hearts just take on new faces. As I said before, who wouldn’t love this place?”

  Sam cleared his throat as he now turned his attention to Rose. “Lisa, hated Annees Passees. She said it smothered her. The trees, the old furniture, and of course the family. She hated the lack of privacy, someone always around. That’s what she kept saying she hated the most.”

  Rose didn’t want to blink. Afraid he would stop talking. She’d wanted to know why Lisa left a perfect life, and now Sam trusted her enough to tell.

  Sam sat on a log at Rose’s feet. “She begged me to move. ‘You can get a job in the city doing something,’ she said more than once. I thought by building her a special place in the house she would forget the city. I had that empty sunroom added on, but she wouldn’t even go inside, never had the desire to even decorate the room. I offered to take her to the city once a month for a weekend, we went one weekend, but after I wouldn’t look at houses to buy with her, we never went again.” Sam picked up a stick and drew in the dirt. “She knew that this place was a part of me and that I couldn’t ever leave, but she didn’t care.”

  Rose sat beside him. She longed to touch his arm, she felt his hurt and frustration. God, she’d had the lack of ability to please all her life. Somehow it made her disappointments easier knowing someone like Sam had the same problems.

  “After Lizzy was born, Lisa withdrew more. The baby’s cries irritated her, so I got up with Lizzy at night. I knew Lisa was in a deep depression, so I sent her to New Orleans, her beloved city. She came back renewed and it would last for a while then she would take another trip to New Orleans and another until they became very frequent. One day, she left in the middle of the night and never came back. She was just gone. Never to return to this place she hated and the family she never loved.”

  Rose fought back the tears. How could Lisa have chosen something, or someone, in the city to replace this family? A sigh escaped her throat.

  Sam grunted. “Sorry about that. I don’t usually talk about my problems. Let’s get back to the house. I need to figure out when I leave for Mississippi.”

  “Mississippi? Why are you going to Mississippi? When?” Rose couldn’t believe her luck.

  “Tomorrow, I guess. Preston and Lewis can’t go and I don’t trust the twins to check out a combine, yet.”

  “Sam, do you know how far Sweetwater, Mississippi is from where you are going?”

  “Sweetwater? Yes, it’s about sixty or so miles, why?”

  “I need to meet someone. It won’t take much longer than an hour or maybe two at the most. Do you mind if I tag along? If it’s a problem I’ll drive myself, just point me in the right direction, and I won’t be gone long.”

  “I don’t know, Rose. I aim to leave early and didn’t plan on any side trips. I need to be back by dark to tuck the girls into bed.” Sam removed his cap and scratched his head. He wiped his hands on his jeans and continued his excuses. “I can’t be making a lot of stops. This is a working trip.”

  Rose couldn’t believe the sweat as it starting to pool around his neck. Was he afraid of being confined in a car with her? He sure sent her mixed signals.

  “It’s okay. If you would rather go alone, I’ll drive myself. I’m more than capable. Please forget I asked.” Rose accelerated her steps.

  Sam’s footsteps and the sound of him muttering rushed up behind her. Who cared? It was a friendly request, and if he didn’t want her company, she would see this mission through alone.

  “Wait, Rose. Don’t get your back up. I didn’t say you couldn’t go. I just need to think it through.” He fell into step once again beside her.

  Silence you could walk on accompanied them back to the house.

  “Well I have work to do. I’ll see you at dinner.” Rose bounded up the steps. Sam caught her by the wrist before she entered the door, ran his thumb over the inside of her wrist and then dropped her hand when he realized what he was doing.

  “I plan to leave at six a.m. Be ready.”

  Sam turned in the opposite direction. His hands shoved in his back pockets, he kicked over a crawfish house as he headed for the rice fields. Never looking back.

  I’ll be ready, Sam. Will you?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As Rose climbed into Sam’s truck, she couldn’t help but notice how the inside was neat and orderly. Nothing was out of place. Not at all like her car with empty water bottles and sticky notes in assorted colors stuck all over the dashboard. An mp3 player usually sat on the seat next to her among a lot of candy wrappers, and an overflowing trash bag. This sure told volumes—Sam’s life all neat and orderly, hers messy and unorganized. Just one more thing she needed to work on in her life.

  Sam jumped in next to her and handed her a basket and thermos. “Odelia fixed us some breakfast and hot coffee. Cups and napkins are in the bag. Do you need a pit stop before we begin?”

  “No, I’m fine. Ready to go.”

  He smelled so good. She realized it was always the same, no matter what time of the day or night. Not like the other men in her life that had taken a bath in after-shave. Sam’s natural smell was clean, fresh, like the sheets that Odelia hung on the line to dry. Today he’d replaced the knit shirt that he always wore with a long sleeve button down denim shirt tucked into his nice fitting jeans and no cap.

  The blue of the shirt pulled the blue specks from his eyes, leaving the green and brown for added background. But it was the sparkle in his eyes that made her uncomfortable.

  The sound of his voice made her jump. How long had she been staring at him?

  “Do I have something on my face, Rose? You are makin
g me a little uncomfortable.”

  Finding her voice took a little work. Blood tingled in her face, burning her neck. “I’m sorry. I was daydreaming. Would you like your breakfast now or later?”

  “No, let’s wait. I wanted to stop by the bayou, we have a picnic table set up and it’s been a long time since I’ve been there. The weather is so great, and we’ve got an early enough start. We can eat and you can tell me all about this meeting you have scheduled.”

  Mercy, she had forgotten she had to confess about finding the man she believed to be Wilson. She wanted to be far enough down the road that he wouldn’t turn back and drop her off at the house. She would have to keep the conversation on something else for a few miles.

  Sam pulled up at a picnic table near the bayou. The sound of the water trickling down some rocks in front of the table made a serene sound. The moss on the trees swayed gently with the breeze. Sam was right. It was a beautiful day.

  Rose sat on the bench, and Sam settled on the edge of the table. They ate the fried egg sandwiches as they drank their coffee. The fruit they put up for later. As they got back on the road, she asked, “Tell me about the harvest. It sounds like such busy, hard work, but an exciting time.” “Hard work? Yeah, it’s hard work, but I love it. To see those fields yield what you’ve worked for that season. We broadcasted the fields in early March and then tended it, flooding the fields, repairing the levees, fighting the blackbirds…all for this moment.”

  Rose loved the way Sam’s enthusiasm filtered through his voice. This was something he cared about passionately. “What do you mean broadcasted the fields?”

  “Crop dusters drop sprouted seeds on our tilled soil. The whole process is my favorite time of the year. We try to get a second crop in. Then September till February we flood the fields once again to level the land. That acts as ponds for the waterfowl that migrate every year along with other animals. This process breaks down the chemicals and returns the water to a near pure state so we can return it to the environment.” Sam turned to Rose. “Am I boring you with too much detail?”

  “You forget I’m a writer, and part of writing is research, and I’m one of those writers that gets bogged down in detail. I had no idea so much went into rice farming. So what do you do September through February?”

  “Tend to the cattle, read up on new products, spend more time with my family. After the harvest dance you will see a more relaxed Sam. Now tell me, Rose, who are you going to see?”

  Think, Rose, think. What could she ask him about now, was she through stalling?

  “He’s just an old friend of the family we lost contact with a long time ago.” Rose sat quietly hoping this would appease him for the moment.

  “Someone you knew? Or someone Odelia knew?”

  “Mercy, did you see the size of that bird? What was that anyway?”

  “Rose, are you trying to hide something? Who are you going to visit, and why do I feel I don’t want to hear the answer?”

  She’d been caught. Rose nervously pulled at a loose curl. “All right. You win. But promise me that you won’t turn around. Please, Sam, this is very important to me.”

  Sam was quiet and watching the road. All of a sudden he pulled over onto a dirt road and put the truck in park.

  “Rose, what are you up to?”

  “Sam, you didn’t promise.”

  “I can’t agree to something I know nothing about, but I will promise to listen and be as helpful as I can.”

  Rose filled her lungs with air and let it go slowly. There was no easy way to tell it but to blurt it out all at once. “You know those letters I’ve been reading of Aunt Odelia’s? Well, I think I’ve found Wilson. He lives in Sweetwater. I just know it’s him. I feel it.”

  “Does she know about this fool thing you’re doing?” Sam’s voice was low and controlled.

  “No, of course not. I would never get her hopes up without checking it out myself. I don’t ever want to hurt her, she’s been hurt enough.”

  “What do you think this will do to her? What if it is him, and he’s married? What if he never really loved her and never wants to see her again? What part of this do you think won’t hurt her, Rose?”

  “She has the right to know. I’ve thought about this a lot, and no matter why Wilson felt the need to lose touch, she has the right to know. Odelia needs to know. She needs closure to that relationship. If you had never heard from Lisa wouldn’t you still want to know what happened?”

  Sam held eye contact with Rose, his eyes searched hers for a reason to support her efforts.

  “Alright. But if he turns out to be a bum, you can’t destroy Odelia’s dream of that man that left long ago. Deal?”

  “I agree, if Wilson is a good for nothing, I’ll drop my search. But I can’t promise I won’t tell Aunt Odelia something. I will promise I won’t hurt her. That’s the best I can do.”

  Sam huffed. He broke his eye contact and in a low voice he muttered. “You are a head strong woman, Rose, I know I’m going to regret this later.”

  Sam started the truck and pulled back onto the road. The silence between them back once again.

  “A blue heron.”

  “What?”

  “You wanted to know the name of that large bird, a blue heron. They mate for life you know. So more than likely his mate is dead or he hasn’t found the right one yet.”

  “It’s a shame people are not the same. Children would sure have a better life, a more secure loving life.”

  Sam turned the wheel and the truck exited the road.

  “If I remember right, Mr. Herbert’s farm is down this road about five miles.”

  Rose couldn’t help notice Sam’s easy way with the old rice farmer. He took the farmers hand between both of his and gave it a tight squeeze. Sam’s laughter came easy and real as he swung himself into the seat of the combine and started the motor. Then as agile as a teenager, he jumped down and checked the other parts of the combine. Satisfied with the agreement of delivery date, Sam wrote him a check, they shook hands again and Sam returned to the truck with Mr. Herbert right beside him.

  “You and your Mrs. are welcome to have lunch before you go,” Mr. Herbert called.

  “Thanks, but we have to get back on the road,” Sam said.

  A deep red color of discomfort spread across Sam’s face as he sat beside her in the truck and waved his good bye to Mr. Herbert.

  “Sorry about that Rose. I saw no need to try and explain.”

  “No problem. But I do have a question. Why didn’t you haggle him about the price? Every man I’ve ever been with has always haggled, even if it was in a nice restaurant and the food was perfect.”

  “What jerks the men must have been in your life.” Sam looked over at Rose, a deep frown on his face.

  She felt small next to him and the questions lingered in her mind. His demeanor was a mixture of anger and pity. “Are you mad at me, Sam?

  “No.” The word escaped Sam.

  “No what, Sam?”

  “I was thinking of something else, something I don’t want to get involved with. The answer to your question about the price of the combine, I didn’t haggle because the price was fair. Look at the map if you don’t mind and see what road I take to Sweetwater.”

  The winding gravel road Sam chose was full of potholes. They finally pulled up to a small neat house with a giant magnolia tree in front. On the porch sat a lone figure.

  Sam parked in front and helped Rose out of the truck. The man on the porch slowly edged himself to the edge of the porch and leaned against a post. He shaded his eyes against the sun as he watched them approach. His rocker still rocked as he drew nearer to the steps. He had a definite limp, and Rose knew she had done the right thing.

  “Hello, may I help you two young folks?”

  Rose’s heart almost jumped out of chest. His voice carried itself over her body making her tremble. She thought she would faint, but Sam put his arm around her waist and steadied her.

  “Mr. James? M
r. Wilson James?” Rose asked as she peered into a stranger’s familiar eyes. Did she know him?

  “Yes, who wants to know?”

  Words failed her.

  Sam took over the situation and introduced himself and then turned to Rose.

  Rose took a deep breath and put out her hand for a shake. “I’m so sorry, Mr. James. My name is Rose Ferguson. I was wondering if I could bother you with a few questions?”

  Wilson’s face paled. “Rose Ferguson, you say? Please come and sit.” He limped back up the steps and pulled another chair close to the rocker he’d been sitting in. Sam sat on the steps.

  “Let me get us something to drink. I have lemonade in the kitchen. It’ll just take a minute.” Without waiting for an answer, he hurried into his house.

  “Sam, did it seem to you that he had been waiting for someone to come?” Rose whispered.

  “Things do seem a little strange. Shh, here he comes.”

  “Mr. James, I’ve come to give you this.” Rose took the letter Aunt Odelia had written him last Sunday out of her purse and handed it to him.

  “Please call me Wilson,” He whispered. His hands shook as he opened the letter and read the words, tears flowed freely down his cheek.

  Rose knew, then, they had found Odelia’s beloved Wilson. The lump in her throat grew, and her chest ached to see this quiet spoken man in such pain.

  “I don’t understand. This is from my Odelia. Does she know?”

  “No, Wilson, I wasn’t completely sure you were the same Wilson James. You would be surprised how many men your age have that same name. I’ve been searching for a while. Aunt Odelia doesn’t even know I’ve been looking for you. She still holds out hope that you will return to her. As you can see by the date on that letter, she has kept her promise to you and still writes you that letter every Sunday.”

  “My sweet, sweet Odelia. If only.” He shook his head then raised his head. “I can’t go back. Things are done that can’t be undone.” He looked into Rose’s eyes. “Don’t you see?”

  “All I see is that two people still love each other very much and time has been wasted.”