A White Rose

by Bekah Ferguson

  A spark of jealousy flared within her. “So, what's the occasion?”

  He took a few more steps inside and splayed his fingers on his hips, surveying the room. Numerous bouquets were on display, filling the windows, floor stands and walls with their vibrant arrays. It wasn't a large shop but it was neat and glamorous with its dusty-rose walls, sheer curtains and organized layout. The floors and counter tops were a polished hardwood, the cupboards a rich cherry wood. Thin fabric was draped loosely across the ceilings, resembling transparent clouds, and tiny lights twinkled above them like stars.

  “It's my sister's birthday today,” he said, “and I always buy her flowers. Now that I know this is your place, I thought I'd give you the business.” He smiled, his eyes kind but distant as usual. Perhaps even more distant than before.

  “Oh, that's sweet of you.” She held his gaze confidently. “Do you have a particular type of flower in mind?”

  “Nothing in particular this time. If it looks nice, if the color is right, I buy it.” He chuckled and she had to break eye contact. It moved her too much. A woman could get lost in those eyes.

  “Does your sister have a favorite color?” She led him toward a display of mounted floral arrangements next to one of the front windows.

  “Well, she loves bright yellow. And pink.”

  Dakota nodded, viewing her pre-made bouquets with a knowing eye. She lifted an arrangement of yellow, white and shell-pink carnations backed by ferns and tied with a silvery bow.

  His laid-back smile told her he approved.

  “Looks perfect.” He nodded. “She'll love it.”

  Smiling, Dakota led him back to the front counter; acutely aware of the unladylike tap of her boots on the hardwood and the shapelessness of her outfit.

  He paid for the purchase and with a friendly comment about seeing her next Saturday morning, he left, leaving her breathless in his wake. How did the man have such an effect on her? She was practically fanning herself! It'd been a long time since she'd felt so much attraction for one man alone.

  ***

  Jason reached his mother's home just after four o'clock. She lived in the north-east end of Barrie in a box bungalow. His younger sister, Jaelynn, lived with her.

  His mother, Bonnie, greeted him at the door with a tender smile and a peck on the cheek. She was in her late fifties; a widow of three years. Jason's father had died in a car crash which physically devastated Jaelynn: In her second year of college at the time, the accident had taken away their father, and one of her legs as well. The tragedy had nearly destroyed his family and it had been a long road to recovery since.

  Jaelynn was waiting for him on the back porch. She beamed when he presented her with the flowers. “Oh, Jay, they're beautiful!”

  He bent down to hug her. “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

  She grinned, dipping her face forward until her little nose was buried in the carnations.

  Jason pulled up a patio chair and sat down across from her. A steel crutch leaned against the wood railing behind her. She was learning to walk on a prosthesis.

  Bonnie joined them a moment later with a weave tray supporting a jug of slushy juice, cups and a bowl of chips. They enjoyed a pleasant visit over a hearty meal of barbecued steak, and agreed to settle indoors to brew coffee.

  Jaelynn rose from the patio table carefully and placed the crutch under her left arm, gripping the wrist clamp. She made her way inside and to the living room at the front of the house. Jason followed after her, irrationally afraid she would lose her balance and fall to the floor. But he knew balance wasn't the issue, nor was the crutch. She could walk just fine without it—he'd seen her do it many times. It was the discomfort he supposed; the unnaturalness of walking on a stump. After three years he suspected she was only clinging to that crutch . . . as a crutch. But he'd be loathe to point that out. She was a strong enough young woman. You might see the tears in her eyes, but the brave smile never seemed to leave her lips. When she was ready, she'd lose the crutch.

  Once Jaelynn was seated and flipping through the cable TV, she insisted Jason return to the kitchen to help his mother make coffee and put away the supper dishes.

  He did as he was told.

  “How are you doing, Jay?” Bonnie asked when he reached her side. She touched a soft palm to his cheek and smiled at him with affection. “How's the house? And that big ol' dog of yours?”

  He grinned. “Why don't you come see for yourself? I keep inviting you… ” He searched her face. “It's been several months now since you've been over… I know you miss the place.”

  She cast a glance down the hallway and her dark gray eyes said everything. She didn't want to face the memories.

  He gave her a knowing look. “It's been long enough, Mom. You guys are coming this weekend and that's final.”

  Bonnie tossed her head back and laughed, giving him a glimpse of the mother he'd been missing these past few years. “Well, all right. You've twisted my arm.” She pulled three mugs from the cupboard, handing one to Jason and preparing a cup for both herself and Jaelynn. “You know,” she said quietly, her back to him, “it feels like another lifetime that your father and I lived together in that old cabin.” Her shoulders hunched forward and she paused to press her palms into the counter-top, exhaling. “I miss him so much.”

  Jason put his hand on her shoulder. “I know. I know you do… ” She turned, looking up at him, a wistful expression in her eyes. He wrapped his little mother in his arms. “We all do.”

  When Ned Sinclair died, Bonnie had been unable to continue living in the log home. The void of his presence had drained her strength and prevented her healing. “I'm suffocating,” she'd said. So after prayerful consideration, she'd transferred the deed to Jason, her firstborn—not taking no for an answer, despite his protests. She then moved into the city; bringing Jaelynn with her.

  Both women were a wreck that first year and Jason had nearly drowned trying to keep them afloat. His dedication to his family had come with personal sacrifice. His fiancée had eventually abandoned him: unable to cope with his broken heart and shattered family. She'd grown impatient with him, restless—unwilling to wait it out. He thought she loved him, but she left him during his greatest time of need. He knew now that it wasn't meant to be—him and Lyndsay—and he was glad it had ended before the wedding day—before it was too late.

  But two long years had passed since then and he was beginning to wonder what the future held. Could he love another woman without the fear of her leaving him some day? Did he have that kind of faith?

  Chapter 9

  Friday evening, Bonnie and Jaelynn drove out to Shanty Bay to spend the weekend with Jason.

  It was raining when they arrived and Jason hurried outdoors with two umbrellas to shield them during their walk from the car to the front porch. Inside, he leaned the dripping umbrellas upside down against the wall and shuffled the ladies into the living room where a tray filled with coffee things awaited them.

  When Jaelynn was seated and out of harm's way, Jason let Bear out of the studio. The giant dog bounded down the hallway and charged into the room; eyes lit with anticipation. Bonnie laughed and buried her face into his fur, scratching behind his ears and rubbing his glossy back.

  Jason sat on the couch next to Jaelynn and watched his mother play with the dog, remembering a time not too long ago when his whole family had shared this ancient home together. He could almost see his father stooping to throw more logs in the parlor stove or sitting on the sofa polishing his hunting rifle—wool socks and checkered shirt to boot, pale hair tousled from a cap yanked off carelessly. He'd been a big burly man with a scruffy beard and a heart of gold.

  The life of his father was a painful, beloved memory and Jason wondered if he'd ever fully recover from the loss. But maybe one wasn't supposed to recover from the loss of a loved one. Not entirely, anyway. He could accept now that his father was gone, but it was always going to hurt—would always be a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach.
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  ***

  It was Friday evening and Dakota had received a call from Jason, asking if he could come the following Tuesday night to paint instead of in the morning. She agreed to the switch cheerfully but felt unreasonably disappointed.

  She'd been looking forward to seeing him.

  After hanging up the phone in her kitchen she glanced down the hallway leading to the shadowed living room and her house seemed to pale as though the lights had been dimmed. It was just the let down, of course. Yet there was also a sense of loneliness which left her sullen and irritable.

  She would not hit the clubs tonight—the rain was deterring—but she definitely planned to tomorrow. If Tiffany was available, an afternoon of tanning and shopping the next day would do wonders to revitalize her drudging spirit. Sometimes life was drab but at least there were ample distractions to keep oneself sane.

  ***

  Saturday afternoon, after priming herself to the pump, Dakota climbed into her black sunbaked Explorer and took off for Tiffany's house. They'd made plans to hit the tanning salon first and then to clothes-shop at the Georgian mall—the largest, most sophisticated mall in Barrie.

  At the sound of the car horn, Tiffany burst out her front door, slamming it behind her, and hurried to the passenger side of the car; stiletto heels clicking on the pavement. She was almost thirty years old but continued to dress like a brazen college girl—high-heels, short skirts and skin-tight tops. She even resorted to dreadful fish net leggings from time to time. And as usual, her hair was whipped up into a stiff ponytail; eyes dark like charcoal with makeup.

  Tiffany peered at Dakota through tinted sunglasses, giving her a once over. “Honey, you look hot.”

  Dakota let out a laugh. “Thanks! You too.”

  She snorted and looked away, pulling a compact from her purse.

  Dakota backed out of the urban driveway and headed for the mall, only a few blocks away. After finding a parking spot, they went inside and headed straight for the salon. A half hour later, skin redolent of coconut cream, they walked with brisk steps to their favorite clothing boutique.

  The mall was busy on a Saturday, countless teenagers and adults bustling up and down the spacious corridors; loitering, browsing, squeezing between shop aisles, chatting on cell phones, and sipping at bottles of pop or coffee cups. Warm rays of sunlight streamed down through the vaulted ceiling windows and the mixed aromas of coffee and popcorn filled their senses.

  They spent an hour shopping before taking a break. They purchased lattes and fat-free muffins, and sat down at a high table, aware that the tall chairs showed off their toned legs to everyone walking by.

  Shopping bags encircled them like a hedge. Dakota didn't need any clothes but already she'd purchased a top, a dress, a pair of shorts, and yet another pair of shoes. It felt good to do so; empowering. She liked to wear a refreshing new outfit every weekend. Made her feel even more desirable to the male species.

  Tiffany picked at her muffin with manicured fingers and yakked about her latest boy toy while Dakota daydreamed about Jason. He was always on her mind. What he was up to today that he'd canceled painting for? Was he dating someone? The thought made her wonder what kind of woman he might date. She pictured a pioneer-type woman with waist-length hair, plain features and a skirt down to her ankles. A virginal, Mother Mary sort.

  She almost laughed aloud.

  No, she couldn't see Jason with a girl like that. Sure, he might be a dedicated Christian but he didn't look like a prude. There had to be a lusty man-heart in there somewhere. She just had to find it and nudge it to the surface. That is, if he wasn't already enamored with someone else. And maybe that's all it really was—he was taken with someone else and the whole “I'm a Christian” thing was a front to make himself feel like a better person while he turned her down.

  He was weak, she knew it.

  They all were.

  And there would no doubt be a way to crack Jason's squeaky-clean veneer. All she had to do was find it.

  ***

  While Bonnie Sinclair sat out on the back deck in the warm sunshine reading a book, Jaelynn was determined to go for a hike and would not relent until Jason agreed to take her. She'd been begging him for an hour now and was successfully wearing him down.

  He was afraid she couldn't do it.

  He was afraid she might fall.

  The trail was littered with fallen branches, thistle and brier, not to mention plenty of rocks and tree roots—every step was prone to be a tripping hazard.

  “Jay, I know you think I can't do it,” she said, expression intense as she stared him down, “but I can. I know I can—as long as you have the patience to wait for me… 'cause you know I'll be slow.”

  They were sitting on the back porch with Bonnie, enjoying the sun and watching Bear run around in his large, chain-link kennel. Jaelynn's fair brown hair was shiny under the sunlight and she squinted as she talked, causing a fine line to form across her slight forehead. At only five-foot-two, she looked outrageously small in the cedar Adirondack chair she was sitting in; like a little girl disappearing into an overstuffed sofa.

  Had he always felt this protective of his sister? She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself. “Okay, I'll tell you what,” he acquiesced, rubbing the back of his neck, “we'll make it a short one, all right?”

  She grinned and straightened in her chair as though ready to jump to her feet. “Awesome! You mean it?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Let's go.”

  “One more thing,” she said, curling her dainty lips into a crafty smile. “Let's bring the fishing rods.”

  “The fishing rods! Nuh-uh. I think a hike in itself is enough! Besides, the creek is way too far to go—” He was shaking his head but Jaelynn was giving him a look of triumph.

  “You get the gear,” she said keenly, reaching for her crutch and pulling herself to a standing position, “and I'll fill your backpack with a bag of ice. Mom”—she turned toward Bonnie, who had closed her book and pulled off her reading glasses—“we're eatin' fish for dinner!”

  Bonnie smiled wistfully, nodding her head in agreement of the plan.

  ***

  With two rods and a backpack of bagged ice, as well as a tackle box in hand, Jason was ready to go—but he resented the gear. It was going to be difficult to assist Jaelynn with her walking when he had only one free hand. Inwardly, he suspected she'd planned this intentionally so he wouldn't baby her. It was a good sign, he had to admit. About time she got over her need for the crutch.

  “I hate to see you get your crutch all muddy,” he said, thinking of the rainfall the night before. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  They were standing at the forest line where the trail began—about fifty feet beyond the kennel. Bonnie was watching them from the deck. She hadn't protested the venture but the worried look on her face said otherwise. Bear was bunched up against the chain-link fence facing them, whining softly and begging them to set him free. Normally, Jason didn't hesitate to take Bear along, but he was reluctant to make this hike any more difficult than it was already panning out to be.

  His sister met his gaze then, thin eyebrows scrunching together. “Jay, come on. Do you think I care about a bit of dirt on my stupid crutch?” She pursed her lips, frustration in her eyes.

  He watched her silently, realizing his condescension with a pang of guilt.

  “Please stop treating me like I'm handicapped,” she huffed. “I'm not. At least I won't be for much longer.” She glared at the forest trail, free hand on her little hip.

  Royally reprimanded, he grimaced as heat filled his neck and cheeks. “I'm sorry,” he said. “You're right. Forgive me?” He cocked a smile when she met his gaze. “I just hate to see you in pain, that's all.”

  She smiled then. “I know. And that's one of the things I love about you.”

  He grinned, relieved.

  They set off, Jaelynn leading the way.

  It was cooler in the forest, the sunlight mottled
and patchy where it streamed down through towering pines and maples. They moved slowly, Jaelynn taking each step with careful consideration. Now and then they paused to view the foliage and much to Jason's surprise, it wasn't long before they reached the creek that ran through his property. She'd made it without so much as a stumble.

  At the water's edge, he set down his gear and helped Jaelynn seat herself on a flat boulder that rose a couple feet from the ground. The creek was wide and deep and because it eventually emptied into the lake, it made a great fishing spot. It teemed with brook trout. They'd fished here together countless times over the years before Jaelynn's accident.

  This was the first time they'd been back since.

  “It's so beautiful,” she said, gazing out at the calm water and the tall trees surrounding them on either side of the creek. “I've missed this.” Her expression was wistful; nostalgic. Eyes darkening, she turned away from him and he knew she was fighting tears.

  He prepared a rod for her and passed it over. She met his eyes again and smiled brightly as she took the rod. She cast out the line when he was out of her way. Jason did the same about twenty feet down stream from her and they sat quietly for a while, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the forest; the gurgle of moving water and the hush of wind in the trees.

  “Lyndsay's getting married,” Jaelynn said suddenly, her voice thoughtful. “I wasn't sure if you'd heard.”

  He glanced her way and studied her face. “No, I hadn't heard. But I'm not keeping tabs either.” He smiled and put his focus back on the water.

  “I wasn't sure how you felt,” she said. “You don't really talk about it much.”

  He met her gaze again. “Well, it took some getting over, but I'm all right now.” He felt stiff-lipped saying it, remembering how painful and disappointing the breakup had actually been for him. But he was glad for it now; content and accepting of how things had turned out. No, he wasn't aware Lynn was getting married. Hearing the news came as a relief. He was glad she'd found someone; glad he could finally put their past relationship to rest.