Roses for Mama

by Janette Oke

At length the feast was over and the crowd started to mill about while the new couple opened their wedding gifts. Angela wanted to escape the crowd and noise for a bit and enjoy some fresh air. She moved away and took refuge under the shade of a large elm. She felt as if her hair were pinned to her scalp. She wanted to pull out the combs and just let the tresses spill about her shoulders, but she told herself that for Trudie she could endure the discomfort a few moments longer.

  The day had turned warm. Too warm. Angela longed for a bit of the wind that Trudie had prayed away. The tight bodice fitted her like a corset. She would be relieved when she could slip out of the gown and replace it with her own comfortable voile.

  She was tempted to sit down on the cool grass, but she could not risk getting stains on the beautiful satin. She didn’t even dare lean against the trunk of the elm tree. She stood erect, wishing the minutes by so she might be released from her satiny blue prison.

  “There you are,” said someone at her elbow. She turned to see Thane studying her.

  “Tired?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  She nodded her head. “Tired and warm,” she admitted, “and so anxious to—to get out of all this—these layers.”

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered, and his eyes told her he meant the words.

  Angela felt flustered. Thane had never given her such an intimate compliment before.

  “Why, thank you,” she managed, and let her eyelids fall to hide the confusion she felt. “The dress is—is most fashionable.”

  “It’s not the dress,” he continued. “Though you do make it look awfully good.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered up again. Was this really Thane speaking?

  “I noticed you are wearing the cameo,” he commented softly.

  Angela nodded. “I like it,” she admitted, lifting the cameo so she could see it too.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get the words out someone called for Angela.

  “I must go,” she apologized, begging him with her eyes to understand.

  He nodded, but as she stepped away he reached out and took her hand, halting her.

  “Angela,” he said, in a voice little more than a whisper. “May I come calling?”

  For a moment she did not understand his question. He always came calling. Had always been welcome. Why would he ask—? And then his meaning reached through to her. Thane was asking permission to call—on her. Her heart fluttered within her chest and her breath caught in her throat.

  “May I?” he asked again.

  She forced herself to look into his eyes. They were pleading. Angela had never seen such a look in his eyes before.

  “Please,” he said again, and the pressure on her hand increased.

  “I would be honored,” she managed to whisper and lingered just long enough to read the relief on his face before she withdrew her hand and slipped away.

  ———

  Angela didn’t stop to analyze her happiness as she hummed her way through her morning chores. She just knew she felt like singing. Even Louise’s bad temper at the breakfast table did nothing to daunt her good spirits. Angela coaxed the girl into better humor and sent her off to school with at least the scowl removed from her face.

  After the kitchen was in order, Angela went to her room and spread the blue gown out on the bed. She carefully surveyed each inch of material. She did not want to return it in soiled condition.

  She wasn’t sure what Carter Stratton would do with the dress. Trudie could never wear it. She was much more “full-figured,” her mother called it, than Angela.

  When Angela was convinced that the dress was in mint condition, she wrapped it carefully in tissue paper and bundled it into a large box. Tucking the box under her arm, she started across the field to the Strattons’. She wasn’t sure who would greet her. Gus was no longer there. He and Charlie were busy making plans for adding a room to the small cabin.

  In answer to her knock the door was opened by a stiff-looking woman in a starched apron. Angela wondered if the woman and the garment had been dipped in the starch together.

  “I have a box for Mr. Stratton,” Angela explained with a smile.

  “Mr. Stratton is presently on his honeymoon and isn’t expected home for some time.”

  The woman even spoke stiffly.

  “Yes,” admitted Angela. “I know. There’s no hurry about the box. It can await his return. I would be appreciative if you’d see that he gets it—after he gets home.”

  The woman nodded in a short, clipped manner, accepted the box and moved as though to close the door. Apparently the interview was over. Angela smiled her thanks and stepped back. She just had time for a quick glance at the new hallway. Carter had certainly changed things. The walls were papered in a leafy green pattern and trimmed with cream woodwork. The floor was covered with thick sea green pile rugs. Rich tapestries hung at the tall windows, and brilliantly colored pictures almost covered one wall.

  “I think I liked it better before,” Angela muttered to herself as she made her way down the brick steps.

  She remembered Carter’s words on his wedding day. “You must come and see Trudie often. She regards you as a dear friend.”

  Angela thought of the many years she had puzzled over whether she was a friend or foe of Trudie Sommers, but she pushed the thought aside. Perhaps she could be a friend to Trudie in the future, but she did hope that the visits would take place at her own farmhouse, not at the mansion-like house behind her.

  As Angela started back across the fields her song returned. She was happy to be going home. Happy that her family was well. Happy that both Charlie and Gus were going to share her yard. But especially happy that Thane was to call.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Commitment

  Thane had sent word with Thomas that he would come calling on Friday night if it was convenient for Angela. She would not have dreamed of turning him down. After all her years of close friendship with Thane, Angela felt strangely nervous and excited.

  “Stop it,” she scolded herself, lifting a trembling hand to brush her hair back into a neat knot. But she could not control her feelings. She had never been this agitated when Carter was calling.

  Carter! With his name came the painful memory of his curling lips and final cutting warning: “You are all set to be an old maid. No man will marry a woman who brings along three younger siblings.”

  The words brought Angela’s hands to a halt. She clutched at the combs she was about to place in her hair.

  Carter was right. No man—not even Thane—should be expected to take on a ready-made family.

  Angela leaned against the bureau and shut her eyes tightly, but the tears squeezed out from under the lids.

  “It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair,” her heart cried. “Oh, God, if only Mama—” But Angela checked her thoughts. For the first time in her life she had been about to blame her mama for not staying with them.

  Forgive me was her next cry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t. I know Mama did not will to die. I know she—she wanted to be here for her family. I know that—that she—she trusts me to take her place.

  And with those thoughts, Angela straightened her shoulders, brushed the tears from her eyes, and finished pinning her hair.

  She took one more look in the mirror to be sure no traces of tears lingered, then smoothed the skirt of her blue gingham. She preferred her voile, but Thane had always been partial to the gingham.

  Thane and I have always been dear friends, she told herself. There is no reason for that to change. We can remain friends—I will tell him so.

  When Thane arrived, Sara hurled herself at him, assuming he was there just to see her. He pulled her braids and tweaked her nose and then handed her a small package of sweets. Louise stood by, grinning and blushing, and Thane paid her a nice compliment, gave Derek a playful punch on the shoulder, and turned his attention to Angela.

  He did not say actual words, but Angela felt she had been paid
a high compliment as well. It was in his eyes as he noted her appearance and smiled his greeting.

  To Angela’s consternation, Thomas moved to set up the checkerboard. But Derek, not Thane, took the seat opposite him. Angela breathed a sigh of relief and indicated that the parlor was available. Thane did not need a second invitation.

  “I’ll see you later—if you haven’t been sent off to bed,” he promised Sara, as her lip began to protrude.

  “None of that,” he said, pretending to tweak her nose again.

  Sara grinned impishly.

  “See that she gets her homework done,” he told Louise in mock seriousness.

  Louise nodded and then began to grin.

  It was a warm evening so Angela had not asked Thomas to lay a fire in the hearth. She waved a hand to indicate that Thane could be seated on the brocade settee and she moved toward the rocking chair.

  “Sit here,” said Thane, patting the seat beside him. “I have something to show you.”

  Angela obeyed, curious.

  Thane reached into a jacket pocket and drew forth a small packet.

  “Pa got in a new shipment, and I thought of you,” he explained. He lifted a tissue-wrapped object from the brown paper and held it out to Angela.

  She took the gift and carefully folded back the tissue. Inside were two of the most delicate, dainty lace hankies she had ever seen.

  “Oh, Thane!” she exclaimed. “They are beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and they both laughed.

  “I was going to get around to a thank you,” Angela chuckled. “Really I was.”

  Her nervousness left her. She settled easily onto the seat beside him and they talked as they had done over the years. As the evening wore on, Angela forgot all about her little we-can-be-friends speech. It seemed so right for the two of them to be there—to be sharing thoughts and dreams. She almost forgot to offer refreshments. When she went to get the tea and tarts she was surprised to discover that the rest of the family had retired.

  “Why don’t I just join you in the kitchen?” Thane asked. “Then you won’t have to bring everything in here.”

  Because it was Thane, Angela did not argue. Instead, she chuckled and nodded her head for him to follow. They pulled chairs up to the kitchen table and shared the food and continued to talk.

  When Angela told how frightened she had been when Derek winded himself playing baseball, Thane reached out and took her hand. It never occurred to her to withdraw it. Thane listened attentively, nodding his head in understanding, increasing his pressure on her fingers.

  “He seems fine now,” he said comfortingly.

  “Yes, thank God,” breathed Angela, and without thinking she reached over with her other hand to clasp Thane’s fingers.

  Thane’s hold on the slim hand tightened. Then he glanced at the clock. “Oh—oh!” he exclaimed. “I’d better get out of here before your big brother throws me out.”

  Angela followed his gaze to the clock and was shocked that it was almost one. She laughed and tried to pull her hands away. Thane reluctantly released them.

  “I’ll get your hat,” she told him and walked the few steps to the wall pegs where the hat hung.

  “So you are throwing me out,” he teased, but he accepted the hat and then stood up.

  “Angela,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her slightly so the glowing lamp filled her face with light, “I have enjoyed the evening—tremendously.”

  “So have I,” she whispered honestly.

  He drew her gently toward him and brushed a kiss on her forehead.

  “May I come again?” he asked softly.

  She could not speak. She pulled back so he could see her; then she nodded her agreement.

  “Thank you.” He lifted a hand to brush her cheek gently and then he turned and was gone.

  Angela floated up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. She had never felt so—so light—so treasured—so filled with joy.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed as she placed her hand on the doorknob, leaning lightly against the door, “I think Mama would be happy for me.”

  But you didn’t explain that you are just to remain friends, said an accusing inner voice that shattered Angela’s peace.

  “Next time,” she promised herself. “We’ll talk about it next time.”

  But the weeks passed and the visits continued and Angela could never quite remember at the right time that she had something important to discuss with Thane.

  ———

  “I miss Thane,” pouted Sara, and Angela’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

  “Why, he is here two or three times a week,” she responded.

  “But I don’t get to see him. Just when he first comes. Then you hurry him off and—and hog him all to yourself,” Sara continued, her lip trembling and her eyes accusing.

  “Why I—I,” sputtered Angela, and then admitted meekly, “I guess I do.”

  “Well, I think we should all get to see him. He belongs to all of us,” Sara declared.

  Louise nodded, for once in total agreement with her younger sister.

  “All right,” said Angela. “We’ll have him over and we’ll all share him. What would you like to do?”

  “For supper,” clapped Sara, her eyes now sparkling.

  “For supper,” agreed Angela.

  “When?”

  “Is he coming tonight?” asked Sara.

  “Yes—but it’s too late to get word to him about supper.”

  “But we can ask him tonight. Let’s ask him for Friday. We’ll have our supper and wash the dishes and play our memory game and then we’ll all make popcorn and play games together.”

  Sara seemed to have it all worked out.

  Angela nodded. “All right,” she said. “You may extend the invitation.”

  As soon as Thane stepped through the door, Sara hurled herself at him, her plan pouring out in an excited torrent of words.

  Thane looked over the young girl’s head and received a slight nod from Angela. “It sounds like a wonderful plan,” he said, giving Sara a brotherly squeeze. “I accept.”

  Sara squealed her glee, reached for the ribbons that Thane held out to her, and promised to do her homework.

  “How’s harvest coming?” Thane asked Thomas.

  “All done for another year,” Thomas responded.

  “New seed produce?”

  “Yeah, but it needs some more work yet. Have to add another strain. But I did get a nice bunch of seed to work with.”

  Thane looked over at Derek. “Hear you’re still tearing up bases,” he teased, and Derek glanced up and grinned. It was now acknowledged that he was the best baseball player at his school.

  “How do you spell sedimentary?” asked Louise from her spot at the kitchen table.

  “What are you ever going to do with a big word like that?” asked Thane, stopping beside her and looking down at her book.

  She lifted her head and screwed up her face. “I have to do a report for school.”

  Thane spelled the word for her and then followed Angela to the parlor.

  ———

  On Friday Thane spent the evening with the whole family, and even Sara seemed satisfied with the outcome.

  “See,” she told Angela, “it works just fine. Why don’t we do that all the time?”

  “Because—well—because Thane and I like to talk.”

  “I like to talk too,” protested Sara.

  “That you do,” Angela agreed, but she could find no words to explain the situation to the young girl.

  Louise cut in with a toss of her head. “They’re sweethearts. They don’t want company.”

  Angela opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. What could she say? She still hadn’t had her talk with Thane—and each call was bringing them closer together.

  ———

  Sara had a birthday. To please her and the rest of the family, Angela again invited Thane for supper. She di
d not promise her family the entire evening, however. Thane had hinted that he wanted some time alone with her.

  The celebration went well. Louise had baked the birthday cake and Thane praised it liberally while Louise flushed in pleasure and embarrassment.

  Thane presented Sara with her first pair of soft kid gloves. Sara and Louise both had to try them on—just to see how they felt.

  Thane helped with the dishes, but Angela sensed that he was in a hurry to get the task over and escape the kitchen.

  “How about a walk?” he asked Angela when they finished their work.

  Angela agreed. She loved to walk. It was late fall now and the evenings were cool, so she went to get a heavy shawl.

  When they stepped out onto the back porch a full moon was shining. Angela stood for a moment and looked up into the heavens to get her thoughts under control.

  Somewhere up there her mama was dwelling. She had been reunited with Papa. Angela felt sure they were happy. Still, she often wondered if they could see their family struggling to make their way without the example and counsel of wise parents.

  Thane took her arm, and Angela allowed herself to be led around the house and toward the long country lane.

  “Look at all the stars!” she exclaimed.

  Thane released her arm and let his hand reach down to enfold hers. She wrapped her fingers around his large sturdy ones and walked closely enough that her shoulder brushed against him.

  “Sara’s growing up,” Thane observed.

  Angela nodded. “She’s growing fast. I sometimes fear that she’ll soon catch me,” she laughed.

  “Well, you’re nineteen—almost ancient,” teased Thane. “She has a long way to go yet.”

  Angela laughed.

  They walked in silence for a few moments; then Thane picked up the conversation.

  “My mama always said that a girl is old enough to know her own mind at nineteen.” His voice still held a teasing note.

  “You have a very wise mama,” responded Angela in the same tone.

  Thane stopped and turned to the lane fence. He lifted an arm to lean on the top rail, drawing Angela close beside him, still holding her hand.

  “Then if you know your mind,” he began, his voice serious now, “do you—are you ready to promise to be my wife?”