A White Rose

by Bekah Ferguson

  Chapter 14

  Thursday evening, at just past five thirty, Dakota was getting ready for her six o'clock gardening class. It was a small class; usually about five pupils. She enjoyed teaching it and the extra income helped her afford her over-indulgent spending habits; though consequently, she had nada when it came to savings. One day she'd have to start putting money aside—but not yet. Besides, she didn't spend too much time contemplating the future anyway. It was more comfortable to focus on the pleasures of the moment. Perhaps she was building up a deficit, but either way, she didn't care to know.

  Dakota taught her class outdoors if it was sunny and indoors if it was raining. Some of her classes were hands-on, while others had more of a “watch and learn” nature. Tonight she planned to teach ground-cover do's and don'ts.

  It was a warm, hazy evening; perfect for an outdoor session. Attendees began arriving around ten-to, notebooks in hand, and she led the classmates to one of several garden areas used for teaching beyond the greenhouses.

  After only a few days back at work, she was feeling like herself again; the guilt had faded away into oblivion and she'd convinced herself that there was nothing to feel bad about. It had worked like a charm. She knew she was deadening her conscience but she couldn't see any reason to suffer needlessly; she didn't believe in a God to ask forgiveness from and she would never tell Jason. So why endure pointless guilt?

  With these thoughts, Dakota was about to begin her demonstration when she noticed two figures approaching. She immediately recognized the young woman on a crutch, but was taken aback to see Jason trudging along behind his sister, one hand hooked by his thumb in his pocket and the other carrying a fold-up lawn chair. His expression was affable. Though she'd half-expected Jaelynn to attend a class at some point or another, she never dreamed Jason would come with her.

  The sight of him was unsettling, almost like a punch in the stomach, and the unease that overcame her was foreign. She was almost ashamed to look him in the eye. And here she'd thought the guilt was gone.

  “Jason, Jaelynn—hello!” she called out to them, waving. “Come join us. We're just getting started.” The group members turned in the direction she had waved, nodding their own greetings.

  She smiled brightly and swallowed down all feelings of discomfort, turning her attention back to the students and the session at hand. She had every intention to teach the class with her usual level of charisma.

  ***

  Jason set up Jaelynn's chair where she would have a clear view of the work Dakota was doing. Once she was seated, he took her crutch in hand and stood behind her, focusing on Dakota.

  She was a good teacher, engaging her students easily, speaking clearly, and keeping the topic interesting. His attention was rapt for most of the one hour session.

  Dakota was wearing coveralls with her hair pulled back in a ponytail beneath a straw hat. Wisps of hair had slipped loose and fluttered about her pretty face as she worked. She was planting ivy and shrubs, kneeling. Her cheeks were ruddy and she looked fresh and happy. It was nice to be able to look at her for once without feeling uncomfortable; as he usually did when she was wearing next to nothing.

  When the hour was up, the students chatted with Dakota and made moves to leave. While Dakota gathered up her tools, filling a wheelbarrow with the various supplies she'd used to plant the ground cover, Jason handed Jaelynn her crutch and folded up her chair once she was standing.

  Dakota motioned to them to come speak to her as she removed her gloves and sun hat.

  “Hey, guys,” she said as they approached, a cheery smile lighting her face. She pulled the elastic from her hair and ran her hands through it. “Would you like a tour of the grounds?”

  Jaelynn beamed, glancing up at her brother. “Oh, I'd love to. As long as you're not in a hurry, Jay?”

  He grinned. “No rush. I wouldn't mind seeing it myself.”

  Dakota lead them through two fiberglass greenhouses situated side by side in the field next to the flower shop, answering Jaelynn's countless questions with friendly patience. Jason held back an amused smile. His sister was always so curious about everything.

  Set behind the flower shop near the edge of the property and out of view from the road, was a fenced-in garden. Dakota led them to it. “This garden is my little getaway,” she explained, grinning over her shoulder as she ducked through a vine-covered arbor. “I wish it was in my own backyard. But I still manage to spend a lot of time here over the summer months.”

  They followed her through the arbor entranceway and stepped out into a lovely, aromatic garden, backdropped by plumy pines and filled with eagle-spread ferns and floral plants. More hanging vines climbed the fencing behind the flowering bushes, masking the inner garden to the outside world.

  In the middle of the garden was a two-tiered stone fountain with water pouring from sculpted lion heads into contained waters below. A wrought-iron bistro table and chairs stood nearby on a flagstone pathway which fanned around the fountain in a wide disc. Silky-feathered, crested waxwings trilled to one another as they flitted about the tiers. The gentle rush of water spilling from the fountain spouts joined the whistling birds in a peaceful chorus.

  Jaelynn's mouth was agape. “Oh, wow, Dakota—this is absolutely beautiful.”

  Dakota's smile seemed shy then, surprising Jason with her humility.

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you plant all this yourself?” Jaelynn asked.

  She nodded. “Mm-hm. I first began this project four years ago, before I purchased the business here, and I've been cultivating it ever since. It's my little sanctuary.”

  “So, you designed it?” Jason asked, fingering a silvery-pink flower petal.

  “Yes.” She met his eyes when he looked up; her closed lips curving upward in a sweet smile.

  He splayed his fingers on his hips and continued to survey the garden. A monarch butterfly perched itself on some nearby foliage, its black and orange wings flicking in a mild breeze. “It's impressive,” he said. “You're a gifted artist.”

  Jaelynn raved her agreement.

  “Come on,” Dakota said, motioning for them to follow. “I'll show you the flower shop now.”

  The two of them left the secluded garden then, following Dakota across the backyard and around the two-story building to the front parking lot.

  “Are you ever in need of staff?” Jaelynn asked a few minutes later as they stood inside the shop, having completed the tour.

  Dakota leaned up against the cash counter and folded her arms across her chest. “Actually, my assistant is having a baby and plans to take six months of maternity leave. This is her last month. I've my doubts that she'll come back though—she wants a big family.” Dakota winked at Jaelynn. “You interested? It's a part-time position—arranging bouquets, taking phone orders—that kind of thing.”

  At first Jaelynn seemed uncertain, her eyes clouding, but then she grinned and her expression relaxed into an excited smile. “You know, I think I would be interested.” She leaned on her crutch and glanced down at her legs, smile fading.

  “I have a stool behind the counter,” Dakota said, as though she could read Jaelynn's thoughts. “There's no need to stand all day. You could sit as much as you like.”

  “Let me pray about it,” she said, her smile strong again. “It sounds wonderful. I'll let you know soon! Thank you so much. You are very sweet.”

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at his wrist watch.

  He wasn't in a hurry to leave but neither was he inclined to stay.

  “Well, I'll let you two go,” Dakota said, evidently noticing that he'd checked the time. “Thanks for coming.”

  They said good-byes on the front porch of the old clapboard farmhouse and were soon on their way.

  ***

  “So, what do you think?” Jaelynn asked as they drove back into Barrie. “Should I take the job?”

  Jason pulled himself from his thoughts, startled to realize he'd been thinking abo
ut Dakota—those intense eyes and the glossy shimmer of her hair as the evening sun shone down on its waves. A life-size Barbie doll.

  “That's up to you, sis.” He cast her a sidelong glance, grinning. “I get the feeling you'd love it… I say, go for it!”

  She smiled thoughtfully and gazed at the roadway in front of them. “It feels right,” she said. “I already have peace about it.” He sensed her looking at him again. “Dakota's so talented, isn't she? She loves God's creation.”

  He nodded.

  “I can tell she likes you,” Jaelynn said suddenly.

  He let out a startled laugh, meeting her gaze briefly. “Yes, she's made that quite clear over the past few weeks.” Another laugh. More of a huff really.

  “Are you interested in her?”

  He exhaled loudly. “No.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “Come on, Jae, you're a woman, you ought to know.” He gave her a withering look. “She's a playgirl. And an atheist.”

  She shrugged. “Seems nice to me. Why not give her a chance?”

  He sighed yet again. “Hmm, I dunno—the whole 'unequally yoked' thing? And because she's already made her intentions clear—She just wants a fling. I'm not interested in that kind of woman.” He drew in a breath. “Not to mention she's shallow and self-centered. It'd be a foolish waste of time.”

  His tone was harsh, he knew, but why did Jaelynn even ask him such questions? She, of all people should know that Dakota was the last woman on earth he'd want to pursue.

  Chapter 15

  Two weeks later, Dakota had reluctantly decided that she'd better go visit her mother again. She hadn't heard so much as a peep from Mona since her last visit in July, and this was unusual.

  Mona tended to phone at least twice a month to complain about her life or to ask a favor. She didn't have a car and anytime she was without a boyfriend to chauffeur, she made her daughter cart her to and from her monthly grocery shops or liquor runs. Dakota had tried calling her mother the night before but there'd been no answer.

  There was always a fear in the back of her mind that Mona might injure herself some day in a drunken stupor.

  It was a dreary Saturday afternoon and on the cool side. The sky was overcast and a heaviness in the air suggested a coming rain. Dakota hadn't returned to the clubs last weekend and she didn't feel like going to them this evening either. The thought of it made her strangely ill-at-ease and she wished she'd never slept with that Jason-lookalike. It was a distasteful thing to do and now the bad memory of it was dampening her weekend moods. The thought of visiting her mother tonight was pretty much an opportunity to pass time; to get the weekend over with. Whenever she had these occasional depressive spells, she preferred to bury herself in her gardening until the glamor of nightlife regained its shimmer. The coming of Monday morning would be a big relief.

  Jason had painted that morning but she hadn't felt the energy to talk to him. She kept her distance. It was all the energy she had to summon a cheery smile when he first came to the door. Sure, it was nice that he'd taken a tour of her greenhouses and flower shop on Thursday, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was only tolerating her for Jaelynn's sake. She was still unbelievably attracted to him, there was no denying that, but his continuing lack of reciprocated interest was disheartening. Of course this sudden lack of motivation was due to depression. Still, it was unlike her to give up a chase so easily. Nevertheless, she was sure the gloominess would pass soon enough and maybe then she'd gear up some fresh charm tactics. But, then again, perhaps not. Jason was still a Christian, after all.

  In only one or two weeks more, he was going to be finished the mural, and the opportunity to get to know him would be over with for good. She had failed to win his affection and this was a blow to her ego; perhaps another reason why she was apathetic toward clubbing at the present time.

  She wasn't used to rejection.

  Before heading to the trailer park, Dakota tried calling her mother once more. There was no answer and she wondered if Mona had gone away for the weekend—perhaps to bearded man's house or trailer or whatever cave it was he had crawled out of. Should she bother making the trip when her mother might not even be there?

  It wasn't that she particularly cared for Mona's well-being—had her mother ever had a healthy well-being?—it was more like a sense of responsibility that was always burdensome until it was dealt with. Besides, she was bored and needed something distracting to do. It was four o'clock and the day had dragged by endlessly. She thought of calling Tiffany and saying she would go out after all, but then decided against it. She just wasn't in the mood to be charming and flirtatious. In many ways, it was all a stage act (though not something she considered to be deceitful) and she didn't have the energy to play the part tonight.

  Letting out a long exhale, she walked across the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door. She grabbed a bottle of Perrier and twisted off the cap, taking a tentative sip. The sparkling water bit at the back of her throat and she realized she was parched. She gulped down half the bottle and dabbed her mouth with the back of her hand, returning the bottle to the fridge.

  It was almost as though she was in a trance; this come-and-go depression wasn't usually so invasive. Normally she ignored it entirely or at least squelched it sufficiently. Blinking, she pivoted on her bare heels and glanced about the silent room.

  All she could feel was her complete aloneness.

  Seclusion.

  Angered by the unwelcome emotions, Dakota hurried upstairs and changed out of her lounge shorts and into a pair of jeans. She was chilly. Checking her reflection in the mirror, she decided to brush her hair and reapply her makeup. Better to look fresh and confident so that Mona wouldn't ask questions. The last thing she wanted to deal with was her mother's bitter scrutiny. By this time, she'd decided to go ahead and drive to the trailer park despite the risk that Mona wouldn't be there. If she wasn't there, perhaps Clarice would be home. At any rate, the driving to and from would at least kill some time. And if necessary, she would take a couple of sleeping pills later and go to bed early.

  She locked up the house and headed for her Explorer. A light drizzle was coming down and wanting to avoid her mother's standard hot dog or canned bean fare, she purchased a tuna sandwich from a Tim Horton's drive-thru. She ate the sandwich as she drove, deciding to take the more scenic Shanty Bay route, rather than the highway—though the forest and field land looked dull and drab beneath the darkening sky. The drizzle, fortunately, had ceased shortly after it began.

  When she reached Shanty Bay, she stopped at The Village Milk and rented a movie she'd been wanting to see. Mona had a large TV, which crowded her narrow living room. A movie would help to pass time and prevent drawn-out periods of dreadfully boring small talk. Feeling generous, Dakota purchased a packet of Twinkies, knowing they were her mother's favorite, and returned to her SUV. She switched on the radio, realizing she'd been driving for twenty minutes without any music, and cranked the country tunes to drown out her listless thoughts. By the time she reached the trailer park, she was actually hoping her mother would be there; Clarice was not the movie-watching type.

  It was five-thirty when she reached the park. The icky drizzle was back, tiny specks of water dotting her windshield. She drove down the two blocks leading to her mother's lot and switched off the radio, bathing the interior of her vehicle in silence.

  Up ahead, the cream and brown-striped trailer came into view and she frowned as she pulled into the driveway, stones crunching beneath her tires. The interior of the trailer was dark. Mona would surely have the lights on if she was home, with the sky as gray as it was.

  Frustrated, she left the movie and the Twinkies where they sat on the passenger seat and climbed out of the SUV, taking brisk steps to the front door. She would at least knock, though she doubted her mother was home. Or worst case scenario, she could be sleeping off a drinking binge.

  As she raised her hand to open the screen, she noticed an envelope t
aped to the door behind it. The screen was unlocked and she pulled it open, leaning in to peer at the eye-level note.

  It was addressed to “Rose.”

  She let out a faint sigh, peeled the envelope from the door and opened it; expecting to find a hasty explanation about a weekend getaway with bearded man. Though why her mother had left a note as opposed to phoning was strikingly odd. She wasn't inclined to visit her mother without appointment, so why would Mona even anticipate such a thing?

  Pulling out a sheet of lined paper, Dakota focused her attention on the tight-knit, spidery scrawl that filled the page.

  She began to read, a cold fear rising with each passing sentence.

  Rose,

  I don't expect you to find this letter yourself, because unless I beg you to visit, you don't. So, I'm leaving this note for the cops to give you later. But if it gets locked away in an evidence locker somewhere, lost forever, and you never see it—well, I apologize, Kid. I can't bring myself to say these things to you over the phone, so this is gonna have to do.

  Last time you were here, I wanted to tell you something, but you weren't listening and I gave up. But here's the thing—I don't feel like going on anymore. I'm too tired and I don't have the guts to face what's coming. I've spent my whole life getting my thrills from sex but I haven't had a good lay in more than fifteen years now. Not since my looks faded into utter oblivion. Now I'm lonely all the time and have nothing to do but fantasize that the man I'm with is half his age, with a different body and a different mug.

  What drives me insane is that you're turning out to be my pretty little Barbie Doll clone. Sure, you've got more brains and cash than this old chicky ever had, but our values are pretty much the same, Kid. We're users. Thing is though, one day there's no one left to use and you just suddenly get it: Hey, it was me I was using up all these years.