And just like that, the tension's lifted.
"A walk sounds good."
"Let me grab my coat."
While Rose finds a coat, and since mine is still on, I take a look at all the photos that hang in the front room. Tons of them. Many of Rose - Rose wearing short denim shorts, an ivory lace crop top, and red cowboy boots, sitting atop a beat-up red tractor. Rose in a black leotard, sitting and bending over to tie her pink satin ballet shoes. Rose in a short black dress, side straddling a white horse. There are other photos, with her sisters - I recognize the two who I met before. Another blonde graces some of the pictures too. But what strikes me most is not that Rose is the only redheaded sister, or that she is by far the most beautiful of the four; it's her legs. They are the color of light cream. They're firm.
And there are two.
I suddenly feel sad again for her.
"My mom's a photographer in her spare time. It's a hobby of hers. That, along with cooking and knitting." I turn around to see Rose standing in the doorway.
Immediately, I am drawn to her red leather coat. "Does that go with the boots?" I point to the picture of her on the tractor.
"I'm so embarrassed." Her cheeks redden just a little. Well, not red so much as that bright peach color they turn.
"By what?"
"All the pictures. Mom loves her camera."
"I think they're sweet."
As we head out the door, she grabs a bamboo cane and says, "Yeah. It goes with the boots. They were a Christmas present."
"I like it. The coat and the boots."
She shrugs. "I can't wear the boots anymore though." She looks down and kicks the ground with her left foot. "This foot doesn't fit."
"Ah."
"It's made to my size, but...those boots are snug, so..."
"So you need a new pair."
She laughs. "I'm not worried about it."
There's a long gravel road that goes beyond the house, and Rose takes us along it.
"You're getting good at it." Jutting my chin toward the ground, my eyes point to her foot. "With the leg." I don't want to bring it up, but I don't want it to be the elephant in the room either.
"Yeah." She pulls her sweater out from the cuffs of her jacket and tucks her hands inside, repositioning her cane as she does.
"You cold?"
"No. Just...Yeah, it's getting easier. Walking. I still bring the cane, though, just in case. I trip a lot. I'd hate to fall."
"I don't blame you. Is it...easy to get on and off?" I lay my hand on her shoulder. "If I'm being too forward or you don't want to answer, just tell me to shut the hell up.”
Rose smiles and looks at me while we continue walking. "It's not too bad getting on and off." She tsks. "I feel like such a baby, the way I acted at Orange. So...selfish. Those people were trying to help, and I...I just..."
Thrown off by where she takes the conversation, I'm stunned into silence.
"I couldn't handle knowing I...you don't want to hear this."
I slip my fingers around her sweater-covered hand and stop walking. "Rose. I wanna hear everything you have to say about anything. Please don't be afraid to share what's on your mind. And don't ever feel silly or like a baby...What you went through...are going through...it's life-altering. There is no right way or wrong way to react.”
"Thanks. But I was a brat. You know who I think about a lot?"
Me, I hope.
"Johnny." She gazes up at me, smiling. "He was never sad. He can't move, yet...I don't know. I think about that and...I was a brat. Still am."
"You're not a brat. And Johnny? He's not always happy. He's...resigned."
"Resigned?"
"He's accepted his fate...but only 'cause his mother has no one else. And who's to say keeping all your emotions in like that is the right thing? I'm not so sure it's all that healthy."
"You sound like my therapist."
"One day, I hope," I say, laughing.
"That's right. Dr. Ben."
"Yup."
We continue walking the gravel path through the massive farmland. On the right side is a huge red barn and some stables. On our left is flat land covered in hay-colored grass. Four horses are roaming the field, including the white one that was in the picture with Rose.
"So...how is Johnny? Do you ever hear from him?"
"Yeah. He's home. He ended up in the hospital with pneumonia."
"Oh...my goodness."
"He's okay now. But he's...his immune system is low, so they don't want him back at rehab yet."
"Geez."
Her head is down, but we're still holding hands. Which I am very happy about.
"So when did you leave Orange?" she asks as she gently tugs me to the left.
"A few days after you."
Rose bites her lip and nods, then reaches her hand over the wooden fence she brings us to. "Come 'ere, Cloud," she says, signaling to the white horse galloping toward us.
"Cloud?"
"Yeah." Cloud lowers his nose for us to pet. "He's mine. I named him. He's white and fluffy..."
"Like a cloud," I finish.
"Yup." As she continues to pet Cloud, she says, "I had to get out of there."
I don't say anything, hoping she'll continue.
"I couldn't handle it anymore."
"Orange?"
"Yeah...it...it wasn't the place. I just...I didn't have time to adjust...to my leg...to my scars...I don't know. I got so...I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm bringing this up." She takes her hands from Cloud, and from mine, and turns to lean her butt against the low fence, and rest her hands behind her on the rail.
"Like I said...I don't mind." I stand against the fence and mimic her stance.
After a mirthless laugh, she says, "I ended up in a mental hospital." Her eyes dart to mine, gauging my reaction?
I don't let on that I know. I try not to show any reaction.
"I couldn't even handle it at home."
"And now?" She seems better. Talkative. More confident.
"Still struggling, but better. Much better."
"That's good."
With her head down, she kicks at the grass with her...injured leg. "It is good. I just wish it were...I wish it'd just be great, you know?"
"It'll get there."
Her foot stills, and Rose shifts so that she's turned toward me. "I don't think so, Ben."
"And why is that? Why can't things be great?"
She continues her gaze downward and kicks her foot again. "What if someone told you you couldn't play ball anymore, and you'd never make it to the Majors?"
"Fair enough. But...Rose?"
"Yeah?"
"I guess dancing was a big part of your life? You told me you studied it, but you never went into detail."
"It was a huge part of my life. I didn't study it at Hunter. I only studied Education there. But...I belonged to a pretty prestigious dance academy. I had been rehearsing for a part in a Broadway show. It was my dream...to be up there on Broadway." She looks me in the eyes and keeps her gaze there. "I lost my leg three weeks before the show opened."
"I'm so sorry."
"That's why...I'll never get there. Not anymore."
"That's tough. I'm sorry."
"It is what it is, I guess, but...oh, anyway, let's get off this subject. Come on, we can go back for something to eat. Are you hungry?"
"A little."
She smiles and takes my hand. "You ever ride a horse?"
"No."
"Maybe one day you can come ride Cloud. Or one of the others. I don't think my sisters would mind."
"You each have your own horse?"
"Doesn't everybody?" she jokes. "Yeah. And we each take care of our own too. Well, Beth has been taking care of Cloud for me while I've been gone, but...my dad wants me to get back on the proverbial horse and start scooping poop again." She laughs again, and I must say, I'm really enjoying the sound of it. "He says he'll give me today and tomorrow off, but come Monday, I gotta get back out there."
"I think that's a good idea. Do you?"
"I do. I miss it anyway."
"Good for you, Rose."
Her smile is big and bright as she flashes it at me. She squeezes my hand and says, "Thank you for coming here, Ben. I haven't seen any of my friends in so long, and...well, it's nice."
"So I've made it to friend status, have I?"
Nudging me with her elbow, she says, "I think so."
***
Back at Rose's house, I sit at the huge white table in her kitchen while she fixes us ham and cheese sandwiches.
"Rose. Can I ask you something?"
Her hand stills while she spreads the mayonnaise on the bread. "Um...oh...kay."
"You seem to be getting around well...physically...and I can't tell for sure, but emotionally, you seem like you're getting better. Why aren't you going back to school in January?"
She finishes preparing the sandwiches, slides a plate in front of me, pours some iced tea into two glasses, and sits down across from me. "I'm afraid," Rose says, running her finger along the rim of her plate.
"Of what?" After I ask, I take a bite of my sandwich, and with a mouth full of ham & cheese, I exclaim, "Holy hell, this is awesome." I swallow before continuing. "The ham. It's...wow."
Rose laughs. "Yeah, well...it came from our farm."
"What?"
"We live on a farm. My dad raises farm animals. That there sandwich was probably Missy."
I push my plate away. "What?"
"I'm joking."
I pull the plate toward me.
"We don't name them."
"Wait. What?"
"That's my father's business. We provide meat to the local butchers." She must notice the expression on my face, because she says, "It's all organic, if that helps. I'm sorry. Should I have not told you where the ham came from? I thought you knew it came from pig."
"Uh...yeah...I guess it threw me for a moment."
"If it bothers you, I can make you something else."
I laugh now. "No. I'm not a vegetarian. I eat meat. I just never knew anyone who knew their ham before they ate it."
"You sure it doesn't bother you?"
"I'm sure." I get back to my sandwich then, "Why are you afraid, Rose, to go back to school?"
She runs her hand along the back of her neck.
"You don't have to answer that." Maybe it makes her nervous to talk about it.
"I don't know why I'm afraid." Her fingers tap the edge of her plate. "Maybe I do. I don't know."
I continue eating while she contemplates why she's afraid.
"It's gonna be all different. People will look at me differently. I don't know. I've never worried before what people thought of me, but..." She doesn't finish her thoughts.
"I think that's something you aren't going to be able to work on by staying hidden on your father's farm."
"Would you like another sandwich? Or...a piece of cheesecake?" She effectively ignores my comment by appealing to my stomach.
"Cheesecake's perfect. Unless, of course, you killed something to make it?"
"Oh my God." She laughs. "I scarred you for life, didn't I?"
"You did. By making me eat poor ol’ Porky."
She shakes her head but continues to laugh. "We just used Chicken Little's eggs. Oh, and my mom made cheese from Lady's milk."
She's got to be joking.
"Lady's our cow. And no, Mom didn't make her own cheese, but she did get the eggs from our chickens."
"Your last name isn't Ingalls, is it?"
"No. It's Walton."
"You think you're quite funny, don't you?"
She hands me the slice of cake she just cut.
"None for you?" After I ask, I realize there are only two bites taken out of her sandwich.
"Nah. I'm good."
"This is...amazing."
"Yeah. Mom's a good cook."
"You don't cook?"
"No. I'm not sure you even put eggs in cheesecake. Beth's the one who takes after my mom."
"Who's the oldest out of you and your sisters?"
"Beth. Then it's me, Patti, and Terri. We're all just about a year apart."
"Wow. That must have been crazy when you guys were younger."
"Dad says the hardest was when we all hit puberty."
"Oh I'm sure. Four teenage girls in the house? God bless him."
I love the sound of Rose's laugh. It's something I'm getting very used to. Plus it's good to know she's reached the point where she can laugh again. I hope she reaches the point where she can feel confident again, and no longer afraid of whatever it is she's afraid of.
"Are your sisters in school?"
"Beth graduated, but she still works with my dad on the farm. She got a degree in agriculture, so...it's actually what she wants to do. Patti and Terri are still in school. Patti goes to County. Terri's up in Syracuse."
"Cool. So..." I take the last bite of my cheesecake and get up to put my dishes in the huge white sink.
"You don't have to do that," Rose says as she gets up to stop me from making my way over.
"I don't mind." I walk around her and do it anyway. She's standing next to me with her plates. As I take them from her hands, I ask, "So what do you do for fun around here? Is there a movie theater nearby? We can go to a movie."
"Really? Um...I haven't been to a movie in so long."
"Then let's go."
"I...I...well, I just got home yesterday. Maybe I should...maybe another time?"
I try to hide my disappointment. I'm not so sure I succeed.
"There's a drive-in theater not too far from here. Maybe we can go next week?" she asks.
"A drive-in? They're still around? I thought they died out in the sixties."
Rose grins. "No, silly, there are still some around."
I step close to her and run my hand up her arm, "So...can I take you next Saturday night?"
Her hand grazes my chest before she snaps it away. "I'd like that."
"Good. It's a date."
"Do you have far to drive?"
"I do. About two and a half, three hours, but I got my music."
She finds the hem of her shirt, plays with it, but sticks her hands in her pockets instead. "You sure you want to go to a movie at night next week? By the time you get home, it'll be late."
"I'm a twenty-two-year-old guy. I sleep during the day."
"You're not sleeping now."
"Because I have a reason to be up."
Rose tucks in her lips and blushes. "Are you one of those sweet talkers?"
"No, actually, I'm not," I say seriously.
"Oh."
"Listen, I know you just got home yesterday. I wasn't thinking about that when I asked if I could come up. I'm sorry if you're tired and need..."
"No, no. I'm happy you came. I didn't mean it like that before. I meant, I just shouldn't go to a movie tonight. I'm sure my mom would be more comfortable if I stuck nearby. That's all I meant."
"Hey. You don't have to explain." I take her wrist and lift her hand from her pocket. Her hand is small and warm in mine. "I should let you get settled and I have a long ride home." I'd drive for days, though, if it meant being with her. "But next week...the drive-in...you and me."
She smiles, squeezes my hand, bites her lip, and nods. "Yeah. That sounds nice."
When a twenty-two-year-old boy stands twelve inches away from a beautiful girl, it takes all his resolve not to whisk her in his arms and kiss the shit out of her. Right now, I'm testing that resolve.
"Wait a minute," she says, unwittingly helping me along. "Before, you said you were twenty-two. I thought you were twenty-one."
I raise my brow.
"November. You said your birthday was November something, but today is only the...oh my God, Ben, today's your birthday."
"Yeah, well."
"Happy Birthday." She tugs my hand and kisses my cheek.
"Thank–"
"Why...I mean...I can't believe you came all the
way up here on your birthday. Why?"
"I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather spend it." Lame. Pathetic and lame. True story, though. I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be...because I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with.
19
ROSE
At Sunday morning's breakfast table, Mom is wearing a goofy grin. She wants so badly to ask me about Ben, and I'm trying to ignore her, but I don't know how long I can hold out. Last night she tried to ask, but I excused myself in the middle of dinner, feigning fatigue.
I don't want to talk about Ben. Yesterday was wonderful. Being with Ben was comfortable and fun, but I'm not sure I want to take things further. He'll be going back to school, baseball, getting back to his life. I'll be here, feeding the chickens and picking up poop. The only thing on my mind will be what Ben is doing and who he's with. He's an athlete with a life. Ben might be showing interest in me now, but it's probably because he's bored. Whether it's schoolwork, practice, baseball, or two-legged girls, he'll have plenty to keep him busy once he's back in school.
"So...you like Ben?" My mother asks anyway.
"He's okay. He's just a friend."
Beth narrows her eyes, and I subtly shake my head for her to keep quiet.
"Oh. I was under the impression it was more than that," Mom says.
"Nope."
"But..."
"Sam, leave her alone," my dad insists. "She doesn't wanna talk about him."
Thanks, Daddy.
Mom doesn't pry anymore, but she looks hurt. When things are going well, I'm very open to talking to my mother, but when I'm not sure where things stand, I'd rather keep my thoughts to myself. I hope Mom understands that.
***
After a fairly boring Sunday spent mostly in my room, on Monday morning, I get back on the farm, my brown work boots unfamiliar on my feet. It's been so long since I've worn them. Getting around the farm is tricky with my new leg. The divots and mud holes cause me to trip. But I manage, using my cane when I have to, and by the end of the day, I'm exhausted.
Back in my room, I take off my prosthesis to care for my leg - I still can't say the S word. I haven't quite accepted the whole truth yet, and looking at it still curdles my stomach. I grab the crutches I keep next to my bed and step into the bathroom to take a shower, where I'll sit on the chair my mother bought me so I don't fall while showering. I undress and wash in the dark, not ready to look at my scar whole. Bits and pieces are hard enough.
Reaching Rose (Hunter Hill University Book 3) Page 10
