In Full Bloom: Sequel to 'The Crying Rose': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 2)

by Beers, B. A.

  “Molly?” Sami questioned.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Mark was elated by this question, and took the bull by the horns. He outlined for her, in detail, what Grandma Jo and he had discussed earlier.

  Sami easily followed his plan, peering around the room as he spoke, and saw the logic of the idea. Part of her, however, was reluctant to leave this house and her things.

  Mark could sense her reluctance, and added one important element to the idea. “Sami,” he waited until her focus returned to him, “Grandma Jo’s house is less than a mile from here. You could be here in a flash if you felt the need.” Mark fell silent; the next move would be up to Sami. Never taking his eyes off her, Mark had to wait while she digested the plan he had mapped out to her.

  “Okay, I’ll go, if you believe it would be in Molly’s best interest,” she said, giving Mark a penetrating stare.

  Mark nodded his head. “We all believe that it would be best.”

  ***

  FOUR

  Grandma Jo was on her feet in an instant. Mark caught her mumble something regarding cleaning her house as she headed for the kitchen. Turning in his chair to face her, he called out, “Don’t fret about the house. We are not going to be wearing white gloves.”

  She turned in his direction and frowned. “You’d better not. You know that I’m a lot better cook than a cleaner.”

  “I can help,” Sami said in a quiet voice behind him. “I like to clean.”

  Turning back toward Sami, Mark visualized her pantry crammed full of cleaning supplies and chuckled. “Yeah, Grandma Jo, this plan might benefit you both.”

  “That’s not funny,” Grandma Jo quirked.

  Mark smiled at Sami, thinking Grandma Jo’s house was full of love, but appeared messy to all that entered. He remembered her off-handed remark to him on his first visit. She knew where everything was located; she just had an unorthodox way of organizing things. Sami returned Mark’s smile as she rose to her feet in order to assist Grandma Jo, when a knock on the front door caused her to change directions.

  Mark’s curiosity bolted him from his seat, and he raced after Sami, who was just entering the living room. He stopped in the middle of the room and watched as she opened the closet door instead of the front door. He was about to call out, when he saw her reach for, what appeared to be a purse. With it securely in her hands, she backed out of the closet doorway and closed it. Doing a quarter turn, she reached for the front door knob with her left hand and opened it. On the other side of the door, Mark saw a young man, maybe in his late teens, holding a large box in his arms. Sami stepped back without a word, and the teen entered. He eyed Mark as he passed, but refrained from speaking. With Sami right behind him, he carried his treasures toward the kitchen. Mark followed the two through the passageway, while the teen deposited the box on the table. He turned and held out a piece of paper toward Sami. Taking the paper, she sat, and reaching into her purse, withdrew her checkbook. Mark looked back at him, and without the bundles in his arms, he noticed that the young man was wearing a vest displaying a local grocery store’s name. Finally, it occurred to Mark that this was her delivery day. The young man was eyeing him strangely. Mark stepped forward and offered his hand to him.

  “Dr. Mark Stevens,” he introduced himself.

  The teen eyes widened at the introduction as he took the offered hand. He was about to say something, when, behind him, he heard his name.

  “David?” Grandma Jo asked.

  Maintaining the grip of the handshake, they both turned in the direction of Grandma Jo, standing in the kitchen. David released Mark’s hand, walking over to her.

  “Grandma Jo, what are you doing here?” he asked, giving the startled woman a big, bear hug.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” she replied with equal pressure in the hug.

  Mark crossed his arms across his chest, and waited for them to break their hold. He glanced at Sami, and found her still in the process of writing a check, with the cursed blank expression again on her face. Mark grimaced and turned his attention back to the two, still embraced, in the kitchen. He cleared his throat to get their attention. They broke their embrace at this verbal signal and turned facing Mark. He raised his eyebrows at them.

  Grandma Jo placed her hand on David’s arm. “Mark, this is David Becker.” She looked up at David and smiled. “I haven’t seen him for about three years. . .when he left for college.” David nodded his agreement. “He is also a former patient of Dr. Peterson’s,” she explained.

  “What do you mean also?” David asked.

  Grandma Jo swept her arm toward Sami.

  “Oh,” David replied thoughtfully, “I have been wondering if she was under treatment.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Mark broke in.

  David looked directly at Mark. “I have been coming here once a week for the past year. That is when I started working full time at the store. Like clockwork, every Tuesday, I deliver her pre-set items. Not once during this past year, have these procedures changed, which is strange enough, but, even more bazaar, is the fact that she has never spoken one word to me. The first couple of months I tried to get her to talk to me, but no matter how I rambled, she ignored me. I was so concerned about it that I approached my manager regarding her. He explained that the prior store manager had made this arrangement with her, and that, so long as my personal safety was not at risk, I had to do my job. Not a real compassionate fellow, if you want my personal opinion. Anyway, I gave up trying.”

  David gazed directly at Sami, who was now arranging the contents of the box on the table. Mark could read, from David's expression, a real awareness, a kindred spirit type of look that he had witnessed before between people that shared a special bond. Well, understanding someone was the first step in helping them, Mark thought as he watched him. Mark felt that David’s arrival was not by chance, and this young man’s presence was vital to his success with Sami. Welcome to our little group, David, Mark thought as he unfolded his arms and walked away from him.

  ***

  Mark walked into the living room, not looking at David, but knowing that he was following him. As David passed the table, he reached out and picked up the check that Sami had completed, putting it in his vest pocket. Before exiting the room, David glanced back at Grandma Jo and waved his hand to her. Grandma Jo returned the wave as he stepped out of view.

  In the living room, David saw Mark standing next to a chair viewing some things on the table. David stopped a few feet away from Mark, and waited silently, feeling that Mark was debating where to begin.

  “David,” Mark began after several moments had passed. Turning to face David, Mark pondered aloud, “I have a feeling that this meeting was not by chance.” Nodding his head, David agreed. “I still don’t know what role you will play, but my gut feeling is that your participation is vital to her recovery.”

  Again, David remained silent; his focus zeroed in on Mark.

  Mark stepped away from the chair and indicated for David to sit. David shook his head, declining the offer, but not taking his eyes off of Mark, who had begun to pace slowly in front of him.

  “Dr. Stevens,” David started. Mark stopped pacing and faced David. “Let me explain something. Hopefully, it will put your mind at ease.”

  Mark was floored. The kid was good at reading him. “Go ahead.” Mark stated tonelessly.

  “I can tell by your actions that you’re uncomfortable with this turn of events.” David’s words rushed out quickly. Mark didn’t respond. He was frozen in shock by David’s correct assumption. “I have had more than my fair share of direct contact with doctors and their treatments in years past. So much so that I had been studying to become a therapist before I ran out of money a year ago,” David continued. What a shame, Mark thought, believing that David had a true gift. “I would like to help if I can. I have been curious about this woman for so long. To tell you the truth…” David changed his t
one to a low whisper, “I actually believed that she was mute.”

  “I can see why you might have perceived that assumption,” Mark deduced from David’s earlier account of her actions during his deliveries. "My instincts tell me that I can trust you, but give me your attention for a second or two before you commit yourself to any agreement.”

  David walked over to the arm of the couch and sat on the edge, giving Mark his complete attention.

  Mark seized the opportunity to sit in the recliner and rest his tired legs. Inhaling deeply, he blew the air out slowly, trying to pick the right words to briefly describe the situation. “This will not be a cakewalk,” he blurted out the first thoughts in his head. “The program I have in mind will involve some role-playing techniques. It would be extremely beneficial for me if I could be on the outside directing instead of a main player in this treatment. I do not wish to subject Grandma Jo to this woman’s aggressions for she is too tender-hearted, and, I believe, the stress might break her.”

  David nodded his agreement concerning Grandma Jo, but quickly laughed at the reference to Sami’s aggressiveness. “I think that I can handle anything the little lady can dish out,” David said, getting to his feet with a voice laced with boisterous gloating and merriment, all the while, patting his husky body and flexing his muscles as a Mr. Universe contestant might perform. Mark watched this performance, speculating that David’s size was similar to that of J.W.’s, Sami’s former husband who had died. David was fair-skinned and blonde. They were features which Mark could hardly miss.

  In a tired voice, Mark stopped David’s antics. “David, physical strength is important, but not in this case. That little lady, as you put it, has verbally wounded me several times over the past twenty-four hours. She has claws as sharp and large as a grizzly bear.”

  “I am strong in both aspects, now,” David responded, stressing the last word.

  Mark sat forward in his chair, staring intently at David, “What is your story, David?”

  David dropped down on the couch cushions. “In one word, ‘stupidity’,” he answered. “I am an alcoholic. I have been clean and sober for 5 years,” David stated this with pride in his voice. “I started running around with a real rowdy crowd when I entered high school. I had to be cool, fit in with the group. For the next three years, I don’t think I had a clean day. Either booze or drugs fogged my mind. The night of the Junior/Senior prom, I hit bottom. The combination of the junk I had consumed or smoked, put me in the hospital. I spent a week there before they shipped me to lockdown at Maryville for the rest of the summer. You’d be surprised at the quick departure from my life of my so-called friends. Anyway, that is when I met Dr. Peterson and Grandma Jo. They literally saved my life several times. I owe them so much. I spent the next two years under extensive therapy, along with taking correspondence courses to obtain my G.E.D.” David glanced down at his hands that were resting on his knees. “It was tough, but I am a survivor.”

  “Thank you for sharing with me, David.”

  David returned his eyes to Mark. “It’s okay, I understand you needed to know.”

  Mark sat back in the chair. “Are you in or out?”

  “I’m in,” David beamed.

  “What’s your schedule?” Mark asked.

  “I’m off the next two days.”

  “Good, meet us around noon tomorrow at Grandma Jo’s house,” Mark directed, explaining to David the need to move Sami, and giving him directions to Grandma Jo’s house.

  “Okay, got it,” David said, getting to his feet and walking to the front door. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he closed the door.

  Still sitting in the recliner, Mark scanned the now empty room. Using his hands on the arms of the chair, he pushed himself back onto his feet. “I’m tired. I must be getting too old for these all-nighters,” he said out loud, as he slowly walked back to the kitchen.

  ***

  Entering the kitchen, he observed that Grandma Jo was now seated at the table with her back to him. She was watching Sami walk back and forth from the table to the cabinet, putting the groceries away that had just been delivered. Mark watched in fascination as Sami positioned the new cans into the already over-stuffed cabinets. Mark walked around the neatly-stacked belongings on the floor that Grandma Jo had brought with her the previous day and took the chair next to her. “It looks like it will take her awhile to finish,” he whispered.

  “I don’t think so,” she whispered back. Awed, her eyes never left Sami. “She’s pretty fast and well organized.”

  Mark noticed Grandma Jo’s purse sitting on the table in front of her. “Give me your keys and I will load your car with your stuff,” he instructed. “You go and retrieve your things from her bedroom. We need to get this show on the road before something else happens.”

  Grandma Jo reached for her purse and fumbled through the contents for a minute until she felt her keys. “Here,” she said, almost giddy, giving the keys to Mark. “I am so fascinated by what she is doing, I hate to leave. Do you see them?” she pointed to the cans on the table. “They’re all arranged by types and in alphabetical order.”

  “I know,” Mark answered back. “I believe it is the process that keeps her grounded. It surely isn’t because she likes the food.”

  Grandma Jo looked at him for the first time since entering. Her eyes were big as saucers. “But Mark, you haven’t been watching her--I mean truly watch her. Not only is she arranging them on the table, but she is also rotating the cans on the shelf. These new cans are being inserted in the back. It is an art form!”

  Mark wanted to reach out and place his hand on Grandma Jo’s forehead to check for temperature for she was raving like a maniac. Instead, he patted her hand a couple of times and cooed, “It’s okay, Grandma Jo, run along now. We are burning daylight.”

  Grandma Jo blinked her eyes and he watched them return to their normal size. “Yes, of course,” she said, making her way out of the chair and out of the room.

  After she had departed, Mark gazed down at the keys in his hand. Well, I better get moving also, if I am ever going to get some sleep today, he thought suddenly. Tossing the keys up into the air before rising, he reached out to snatch them when he caught Sami’s movement. By God, she is rotating the stock, he marveled. The keys came crashing down on the tabletop. Mark was bewildered; this woman was getting more complicated. Picking up the keys from the table and getting out of the chair, he figured he had maybe ten to fifteen minutes to get Grandma Jo headed back to her house before Sami completed her job.

  On his second trip back into the house, Grandma Jo met him at the door. In her hands, she had collected all the remaining items from the floor in the kitchen. “This is all,” she said, moving past him.

  Mark followed her to her car. After depositing her armful into the trunk, she turned and faced him. He handed her the keys, and reaching forward, he shut the trunk lid. “There is one more thing I think I have to ask you to do when you get to your house. Until we can determine if it is significant in other environments, you should remove all calendars and clocks. Hide them in safe places. She has them removed here, and I don’t want to upset her.”

  “Yes, you are right. I’ll do that first thing,” she said.

  Grandma Jo reached out and wrapped her arms around his middle, giving him a hug, as she buried her head into his chest. He returned the hug eagerly. They did not speak, for no words were needed. They just held the embrace for a few seconds.

  Mark looked down at Grandma Jo’s face as they released the hug. The tenderness expressed in her features gave Mark a warm fuzzy feeling. He winked at her and smiled.

  Returning the smile, she headed to the driver’s door, calling out as she went. “See you in a couple of minutes.” Mark watched her drive away.

  Turning back to the house, he flinched, knowing that the next ‘couple of minutes’ would be very interesting.

  ***

  Entering the house, Mark froze as he immediately spie
d the open package Sami had left next to the chair that morning. Mark realized the potential danger here. Not wanting anymore distractions to delay their departure, he moved directly to the box. “I’ve got to find you a home.” As he wondered just where to conceal it, he suddenly groaned, remembering that the previous night’s activities had produced quite a few distractions throughout the house. He had to hide these items as well before Sami caught sight of them. He and Sami would eventually need to revisit these items when she was ready for them, but not now.

  He swiftly walked to the entrance of the kitchen-family room, and poking his head in the passageway, he saw that Sami was still engrossed in putting away the groceries, but she was almost done. He would have to hurry in order to finish before her.

  Doing an about-face, he rushed to the box, carefully folding the mailing wrapper. He took extra care not to damage the label, recalling that Sami had lovingly admired the fact the address had been printed by her deceased husband more than ten years ago. The Clark’s return address was noted prominently on the wrapper. My God, Mark thought, she is not prepared for this new information. The Clarks, who they had met on their honeymoon, resided in Flagstaff, less than 2 hours from Phoenix. Sami had not known their address and had been unable to notify them of J.W.’s death. Mark searched around for pen and paper. He had to contact these people. Mark found the needed items and hurriedly wrote down the address. Slipping this paper into his pocket, he completed filling the box with the letters and photo album. Placing the lid on the box, he made a beeline directly to the back of the house. He knew precisely where this box belonged.