Time To Love Again

by Roseanne Dowell

  "I'm glad I'm here too. But I would have been here a lot sooner if you had called. You know, Mom, you can't shut us out of your life forever."

  "No, I guess I can't. I'm sorry. I've been so stupid."

  "Shh... it's okay." Francis patted her back. "Come on let's see if we can salvage some of your clothes and pack them up for you. I have a feeling this is going to take a while to put back together."

  Rose went to the closet and pulled her insurance papers from the concealed safe. At least they hadn't found that. She picked up some of the clothes off the floor. Not much was salvageable. Most of them were torn. She managed to put enough together to carry her for a couple of days. Francis pulled down the stairway to the attic crawl space and found her suitcase. Rose packed what she could and followed him to her car. Stephen stood at the window when she got in car and she waved at him. He turned away without reciprocating.

  Maybe he hadn't seen her.

  After they registered at the hotel, Francis called her insurance company and agreed to meet them later that afternoon. To help bide the time, Francis took her to lunch. It was fun spending time with her son. She had forgotten how amusing he was. He reminded her so much of Frank that she missed him more than ever.

  They met the insurance agent at the house later. "Wow, what a mess." The agent stepped through the front door and couldn't seem to contain his surprise. He opened his notepad and began writing notes. "Definitely looks like new furniture in here," he said as they walked through the living room.

  "New dishes and flooring in the kitchen." He made more notes. "Looks like we'll have to replace most of the furniture and refinish dressers and tables that weren't too badly damaged. I'll see to it that you get a check tomorrow for clothes and to begin replacing the dishes and bedding. You can hire painters and order carpeting."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next two weeks flew by in a flurry of activity. Rose loved shopping with Francis. They replaced dishes, linens, drapes and other damaged items. What furniture was salvageable they sent out to refinishers. The rest the insurance company arranged to have hauled away.

  Painters came in and painted the walls. They laid new ceramic tile floor in the kitchen and carpeting in the living and dining room. Someone came in and cleaned the carpeting in the bedroom. Francis took her from store to store and held her when the tears came.

  She and Frank hadn't replaced the dishes for years. The ones that hurt the most were her mother's Christmas dishes. Rose didn't see much sense in replacing them, since she didn't entertain anymore, but Francis insisted.

  "You never know when you might get unexpected company." He teased. "What about that nice Mr. Daniels. I bet he'd like to come to dinner."

  Rose laughed. Little did Francis know she had no intention of establishing a relationship with Stephen. But she bought the dishes anyway and put them in her china cabinet. Eventually, Melinda would inherit them. Seemed a shame to waste the money, but at least she'd have something to pass down.

  She hated to replace the living room couch and chairs. Especially Frank's chair. She saw him, even now, sitting next to the fireplace reading a book in his leather easy chair. She found one similar but decided not to buy it. No point in having an easy chair with no one to fill it. Instead, she purchased two Queen Anne chairs for either side of the fireplace.

  Picking out paint and carpeting excited her. It had been years since she and Frank replaced the carpeting and the kitchen floor was original to the house. It surprised her how much she enjoyed changing the colors. Before she and Frank had agreed on earth tones. Now she wanted color, dark, rich color. She chose a rich burgundy for the dining room and a sage green for the living room.

  "Are you sure you want that dark of a color in the dining room?" Francis asked.

  The color fit with her mood, dark. Yet, she knew something about it would lend a rich elegance to the room. She had forgotten how much Francis was like his father. Frank didn't appreciate color. All their married life, their bedroom had been some shade of white or off white.

  The same with most of the other rooms. Once he agreed to paint the living soft celery green, which pretty much was white with just a hint of green - hardly even noticeable - and that didn't last long. Next time they painted they went back to beige. Now she wanted the bedroom a dusty blue. Not too dark, but dark enough to know it was blue. She picked out navy drapes and a navy and white striped quilt for the bed.

  Rose enjoyed spending time with Francis. Didn't want to think of him leaving. But, she knew he couldn't stay. She didn't really want him to. He had his life, a wife and family of his own. But she sure did miss them. Wished they lived here like they used to and visited every week. Francis used to stop in on his way home from work just to say hello. She missed those days. Missed Melinda too. But she couldn't tell them that. Didn't want them to know how lonely she felt.

  "Why not?" Emma interrupted her thoughts. "Why not let them know how you feel? Is it better for them to think you're cold and unfeeling?"

  She brushed the voice aside. What did Emma know anyway? She'd never experienced anything like this.

  Everyday Francis talked to his office, sometimes three and four times a day. Rose hated that she imposed on him this way. She tried to convince him that she could do this alone. But he insisted on staying to help.

  "But your job– they need you." Rose objected.

  "They'll get along fine without me. You need me here. I'll catch up."

  "What about Linda and the kids? They need you too."

  "Lin and the kids are quite capable. It's not like I'm going to be gone forever. Besides they're used to me going on business trips. They'll be fine. I'm just sorry they couldn't come along."

  Rose liked the attention, but guilt ate at her. The very thing she tried to avoid was happening. She was interfering with her son's life. Surely, Linda objected to his absence even though Francis denied it. But the more she tried to send him home, the more he refused.

  Every day, Francis checked on the progress at the house. Rose couldn't bring herself to go. Not yet, not with the memory of the destruction still so fresh in her mind. Besides, it felt good for someone else to take charge for a change. She was tired of being in control.

  Even Frank hadn't been that much in control. Although she and Frank had shared the responsibility of raising the kids, he left the day to day business of running the house and paying the bills up to her. Oh, sure, they discussed major purchases and repairs. But it was up to her to call the plumber or get estimates for the new roof. Even though they shopped together for big items, when it came to daily purchases it was her job.

  One day, Francis came back to the hotel grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I saw your neighbor, Mr. Daniels. He asked about you."

  Rose's heart did a flip. So, the man asked about her, so what?

  "He really likes you, Mom."

  "Don't go down that road, Francis." She didn't need this sermon again. She didn't need a man, least of all Stephen Daniels, attractive as he was. Nope she didn't need anyone.

  But she did. Didn't having Francis here prove it?

  "Why not, Mom? He's attractive and it's about time you moved on."

  "Francis." Rose warned.

  "You know, you can't go on like this. Do you think we don't miss Dad? Do you think we don't miss you? Or that we wanted to move away? Damn it, it about killed us to move. To leave you here to fend for yourself. If for one minute we thought you would have sold the house and moved with us..."

  "Sell the house?" Rose interrupted.

  "We knew you wouldn't do it. Not that we blame you. Your life is here, we understand that." Francis continued, before Rose could say anything else. "But for God's sake, you can't keep living like a recluse. You can't ignore us. We're your kids, damn it." Francis slammed his fist on the table. "You cut off our phone calls. You refuse to visit. Do you know how bad that hurts? You act like you don't have a family anymore."

  Rose sat stunned. "I had no idea."

  "How did
you think we felt? Not only did we lose a father, we lost our mother. Do you think we don't miss you and Dad?"

  The anger in Francis's voice cut through her like a knife. What had she done to her kids?

  "And if you think I'm upset you should hear Melinda. And what about your grandkids? Don't you miss them even a little? You never even ask to talk to them when you do take our calls."

  Rose cringed. Miss them? She missed her grandkids most of all. And they thought she didn't care. "Francis, I...I don't know what to say. I had no idea."

  "No, I guess you didn't, did you? You sat here and wallowed in self-pity, not thinking of anyone but yourself. Didn't you care how we felt? Look at you. You've turned into a pathetic old woman."

  Rose's mouth dropped open. Francis had never talked to her this way. Not that she didn't deserve it. What he said was true but....

  Francis ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, Mom. I know those are harsh words, but they are true. Have you looked in the mirror lately? I mean really looked at yourself? What happened to that vibrant woman who used to laugh and joke and got down on the floor to play games with her grandkids? You let yourself die with Dad and Aunt Emma. Neither of them would have wanted that."

  Rose didn't speak. What could she say? Everything Francis said was true. She had died with them. Had cut herself off from the ones she loved the most.

  "Lin and I want you to come home with me. Just for a visit."

  Rose shook her head. "Not now, Francis. Not yet. I have too much to do putting the house back together."

  "I'm helping you with that. Quit making excuses."

  "I need to put my life back together here first."

  "Come for Christmas then."

  "Not this year. I'll come in the summer. I promise."

  "I'm going to hold you to that."

  Rose smiled. "You do that." She wouldn't back out. Not this time. She had cut her family off long enough. Had ignored the most important people in her life. She wouldn't do that anymore. They needed her as much as she needed them.

  What a foolish woman she had become.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two weeks later, she walked around the refinished rooms with Francis. She looked at her new furniture, rearranged dishes and hung new drapes. It felt like moving in all over again. Not much was left of her life with Frank. Nothing but her bedroom set. She ran her hand across dressers that had been refinished, remembering again, the fun they had purchasing the set.

  Several times through the years Frank had suggested they replace it, but she'd have none of it. She loved this old set, and it still fit in with today's styles.

  She closed her eyes and the memory became so real she felt it all over again.

  They had just bought the house and Frank insisted they buy a new bedroom set.

  "I'm tired of that monstrosity your mother gave us," he had said.

  They shopped in so many stores Rose didn't think they'd ever find something they both liked. Until they found this one. A simple cherry set, double dresser with an offset mirror. They both fell in love with the bed. A solid headboard, similar to mission style but with a Danish Modern flair. At least that's what the sales person said. It didn't matter, they both loved it.

  The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.

  "Mom, how are you?" Melinda's voice sounded bubbly, like she had some good news.

  "I'm fine, dear, how are you?" Rose smiled as she pictured her daughter. Melinda always sounded so exuberant. "What's new, you sound excited."

  "I just talked to Francis, and he told me about your neighbor."

  Rose groaned. Why did everyone think because of one act of kindness she and Stephen had a thing going?

  "I think it's great you have a friend. Francis said he's good looking too." Melinda laughed. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you have someone. We've been so worried about you."

  "Melinda, there's nothing to it. He's just a friend." And not much of one at that. Stephen had called several times, and they spoke briefly, but Rose avoided him. Just the sound of his voice did things to her that she wasn't used to. Wasn't ready for. Things Frank's voice used to do. Preferring to keep her distance, she made excuses not to speak to him.

  Rose laughed off Melinda's attempts to play cupid. "I'm quite content with my life, thank you very much, and he's barely a friend. He just happens to live next door and volunteers at the hospital, which is why he brought me home."

  "Oh."

  Rose heard the disappointment in her daughter's voice.

  "But you are going to see him again, aren't you?"

  "Well, since he lives next door, I probably will. But honestly, Melinda, why is everyone trying to pair me up?"

  "Because we don't like the idea of you being alone. You know, Mom, we've been worried sick about you. You hardly talk to us when we call. We thought you were mad at us for moving away."

  Rose took a deep breath. The words stung. Mad at them, poor kids. What had she done? She hadn't meant to hurt them. She thought she was making it easier for them to live their own lives. She had no idea how upset they were. If this break-in hadn't happened, she might never have known. Thankfully, she and Francis had ironed everything out. Time to straighten Melinda out too.

  "I'm sorry, Melinda. I never meant for you to think that. I didn't want to be an interfering old lady.

  "I know, Francis explained it to me. Gees, Mom, what's a family for if you can't turn to them?"

  "You're right, honey. I promise I'll keep in touch. But you have to promise if I ever overstep my bounds you'll tell me."

  Melinda laughed. "Trust me, Mom. You could never overstep your bounds. You're too thoughtful. We miss you. I wish you'd agree to spend part of Christmas with us."

  "Not this year. But I promise to visit in the summer, honest." It was time she spent more time with the kids. "I'm going to take a three month summer vacation and divide it between you and Francis. You'll probably be happy to see me leave."

  "Never!"

  "Okay, you remember that." Rose laughed. "I love you," Rose said before she hung up.

  * * *

  Stephen stood at the window. Workers came and went from Rose's house. He couldn't wait for her to return home. He missed the crotchety old thing. She'd been so close to coming to him that day in the bedroom. She had taken that first step. Too bad her son had showed up. Another time. He'd see her again when she moved back. No way was she going to ignore him this time. He'd worked too hard to get through that tough reserve. Something told him, he'd have to start all over again. Damn, he'd been so close.

  Sarah came in and slammed the door. "Hi, Grandpa. What are you looking at?"

  "Huh? Oh nothing, just watching the weather. How was school?"

  "Fine. When's Mrs. Asbury coming home?" Sarah flung her backpack in one direction and her coat in another.

  Stephen couldn't contain a chuckle. As young as Sarah was, she was more observant than he realized. Was he so transparent that even an eight year old could see through him?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "I think Stephen's sweet on you, Mom," Francis teased before he left. "It's about time. You're too young to spend your life alone, and Dad wouldn't have wanted you to."

  Rose kissed him goodbye and didn't bother to argue. It was hopeless. For some reason the kids made up their minds that she and Stephen were and item and no amount of arguing was going to change it. "What time is your flight?" She changed the subject.

  "Okay, I get the hint. But really, Mom...."

  "Call me when you get home and give my love to Linda and the kids." Rose cut him off.

  Francis kissed her goodbye and got into his rental car. "I will. And don't forget, next summer."

  Rose nodded and stood on the front stoop and watched his car until she couldn't see him anymore. She turned and went into the house.

  With Francis gone, the house seemed emptier. All the new furniture, paint and dishes seemed like they belonged to someone else. To top it off, Emma never missed an
opportunity to remind her of the handsome man next door.

  "You need to move on with your life," she said. "Even your kids want you to."

  Rose shrugged her off and set about her daily living. If living was what you wanted to call it. Daily errands, trips to the store, doctor's appointments. Boring, everyday things to help fill her time. It seemed strange with all the new furniture and carpeting. She loved the new kitchen floor. But she missed her old stuff.