The Double Rose (17 page)

Chapter 19

Transposing

Kansas City, Missouri

Wednesday, 29 August

The traditional family salutation of a kiss on each cheek greeted Marie. “Wow, Anne!” Marie hugged her sister with enthusiasm. “Your studio looks fantastic, and so do you! Love your new outfit.”

“Aaron and Josh did a fabulous job with the build-out and this sage paint,” she eyeballed the walls, “the perfect finishing touch. I can’t wait to see how it will look after all your photos are hung. I couldn't be more happy for you.”

“Thanks, sis. And thanks again for designing my logo. I've received a bunch of compliments on it from the neighboring business owners.” Anne stopped organizing framed photographs on three large tables in the center of the studio. “Eliza and Mike are in the back with Aaron and Josh sorting out photos into categories. I want to wait for Maman and Papa to get here before we start hanging the photos.”

“Where are they?”

“Maman was giving a lecture on Debussy to the KC Lyra Chapter.”

“That was supposed to be finished two hours ago.”

“They probably ran over or got stuck in traffic. It's rush hour.”

Marie noticed Christophe’s truck pull into the only empty parking spot in front of the studio. “Oh look, here they come.”

Sophie entered Anne’s studio carrying a large bouquet of fresh-cut flowers featuring pink roses. “Congratulations, my darling. Everything looks so lovely.”

Sophie placed the bouquet in Anne’s arms. More family greetings were exchanged. The rest of the preparation team emerged from the back room after hearing the commotion. Aaron immediately put his arm around Anne and gave her a kiss a little too intimate for a family event.

“Can I have everyone's attention, please? Thanks for coming out to help me finish setting up. Before we get started, I have a special announcement to make. Well
 . . . ” Anne’s glow brightened as she glanced at her sweetheart. “Actually, Aaron and I have a special announcement to make.”

Marie sent a chilling glare toward her parents. Sophie innocently smiled back with bright twinkling eyes.

Anne unveiled her hand that had been hidden behind her back. “We are engaged!” She held out her left hand, displaying the token of Aaron’s love on her second finger, a full-karat diamond centering a beautiful arrangement of smaller stones.

A shrieking scream; sobs of sheer joy; a flood of questions—Eliza could not contain her bubbling emotions. She had been as much a mother as a sister to Anne in their early years.

A delightful fuss was made by all over the engagement and the ring. However, Marie was troubled by the happy news.

Everyone gathered by the front entrance for a brief ceremony to hang Anne’s first photo—her masterpiece.

“You all know how much I loved Golden Wings and how hard it was for me to say goodbye to him.”

The family was comforted by hearing her speak of Golden Wings with a sense of peace.

“I hang this picture tonight as a memorial to honor his memory and the many blessings he brought to my life.”

Aaron helped her place a double-matted framed portrait of Golden Wings in his prime, wearing one of his many blue ribbons. Mounted on a plaque was a brass-engraved sign:

Golden Wings

1990-2012

Love could have no better friend

Than the one you have been

The hanging of photographs commenced. Aaron and Anne worked together in the front of the studio hanging her collection of creatively captured images of people.

Eliza and Mike hung the animal collection, starting with a lively photograph of a family of dolphins Anne had snapped a few months earlier.

Marie ingeniously created an opportunity to inconspicuously question her mother about Anne’s engagement while the others were preoccupied. “Maman, let’s work together on the back wall while Papa and Josh are talking in the break room. It seems that they have been doing that a lot lately.” As soon as they were out of earshot, Marie’s interrogation began. “How could you give your approval for this engagement?”

“Why should you object?”

“Because they hardly know each other,” she said a little too loudly. Her eyes quickly surveyed the studio.
Thank goodness, no one heard me
. “They have been dating for eight short weeks! This is crazy,” she declared in an agitated whisper.

Sophie and Marie moved to an empty area of the studio and began hanging the nature photos assigned to that wall. “First of all, darling, they do not
hardly know each other
. Anne has known Aaron for more than half her life. She was ten when she came to live with us. She is twenty-two now. Besides, she first met Aaron in grade school.”

Marie searched the wall for the next mark that indicated where the photo should be placed.

“Chérie, I admit, I would agree with you if this were a man she literally met for the first time two months ago . . . ”

“Maman,” Marie abruptly interrupted, “there is a big difference between associating, even being friends with a man, and dating him.”

Sophie banged a picture hanger into the wall with a small steel hammer, then Marie hung a gorgeous, vivid, eleven-by-fourteen photo of a zoomed-in sunflower with a single raindrop splashing on a petal.

“You have forgotten a lot. Try to remember when Anne was fifteen. Aaron started dropping by after school to hang out around the horses. He came around regularly until he left for the university.”

Sophie’s response jostled Marie’s memory, obstructed by her prejudices.

“He said it was because he loved being around the horses. Yes, it was obvious that he did care about the horses, but with a discerning eye, it was obvious that he cared a great deal more about your sister. He was shy then, as a teenager, and she was still struggling to overcome the pain from her early childhood. She was much too young then for a serious relationship anyway.”

Marie held a wide-angled image Anne had captured of a bald eagle in flight—clearly misplaced. She leaned it against the wall to be recategorized later. “I did not forget. I guess I did not make the connection. I can’t explain it, Maman, I have such an uneasy feeling.”

Sophie nailed another hanger into the next “X” once it was located, and Marie moved on to the next photo. “
Chérie
, I think you are transposing your own fears into your sister’s relationship. Anne and Eliza are both strong, independent women . . . intelligent and gifted. Neither of them is getting married because she needs a man to take care of her, but neither are either of them threatened by a strong man who offers his love, protection, and support to her.”

Marie glanced over at Aaron and Anne laughing as they worked together. He was obviously proud of her accomplishments.

“Anne is an exceptionally responsible woman. She is too balanced to make a poor decision about the man she wants to spend her life with.”

Between admiring the photographs, one by one, and their conversation, Sophie and Marie were not making much progress on the back wall. “I agree. Anne is amazing and deserves every wonderful thing in life which is why I do not want to see her rush into a premature engagement.”

The women moved on to the next photograph of a row of ice-covered trees lining an empty country road.

“Aaron came to talk to your father and me last Sunday. He told us of his hope and intention toward Anne.” Sophie paused to enjoy a reminiscing sigh. “Your father and I, without mincing words, discussed the serious responsibilities and commitments associated with marriage, exactly as we had with Andrew, Mike, and Josh.

“Derrick did not care enough to ask for our blessing and support. Of course, in all honesty, neither did Geneviéve at that time.”

Sophie was strong, but Marie knew that she had deeply suffered over the poor choices Geneviéve had made.

“I studied Aaron’s face. I could read the intensity of his love for Anne and his desperate hope for our approval. We gave our blessing to him. I don't think I have ever seen a young man look more relieved.” She happily added a contemplative, “Awe.”

“When did he ask her?”

Sophie peeked at Anne and Aaron hanging photos behind the cashier counter. “Tuesday evening. He had taken her to dinner at Le Fou Frog. She thought they were celebrating the completion of her studio. She called me the second she returned to the studio and we talked for an hour and a half!” Sophie’s smile turned warm from satisfaction. She glanced at Aaron resting his hand on her daughter’s right shoulder. The playful manner in which they worked side by side confirmed his dedication to her dreams.

“She went over the entire menu with me. They started with hors d’oeuvres of Assiette de Charcuterie. Their entrée was St. Pierre sauce Cardinal–oh, how I would love to have that recipe! And for dessert, they had the special, a French Donut. She said it was positively divine with little, crispy, chocolate spheres stuffed with lime sorbet.”

Marie could not restrain a short chuckle
. I bet she licked the last drop of sorbet off that spoon in spite of the swanky restaurant.

Marie’s fear-induced tension began to subside. The women continued to talk as they hung a set of four photos depicting the unfolding stages of a red rose.

“After they finished eating, Aaron placed a gift on the table. Anne picked it up, curious about its contents. The box was too big and too heavy for her to suspect jewelry of any kind. She unwrapped it, and there it was—a professional, super-wide-angle, panoramic lens. She was in heaven. A new gadget for her camera!”

Sophie laughed loud enough that the others took notice. She continued in a hushed tone.  “Perched on top of a tiny, red satin pillow, above the lens cap, was her ring. She said the night was absolutely perfect.”

Marie studied Anne’s face as Josh gave a bear hug to Aaron. They appeared to be immensely happy together.

“Oh, honey, Anne is not you, and Aaron is not Josh. This is their time, and I am content that it is the perfect time for them.”

Marie smiled with acceptance.

“And, darling, your time will come, too.”

Chapter 20

Amour a la Mode

Independence, Missouri

Thursday, 6 September

Marie snuggled close to Josh on her cozy couch while they finished watching a movie.

They were alone, snug in her favorite spot to meditate, surrounded by Grandfather Misai’s paintings. In Josh’s arms, she felt a level of peace she had never known before.

He tossed a scrap of pizza crust onto a stoneware plate. “Delicious pizza. You're an amazing cook.” The pungent aroma of red-wine vinegar surrounded the empty platter occupying the center of the coffee table.

Josh gently pressed his lips into a sweet kiss on the inside of her wrist, moving slowly with each kiss up her arm until he reached her elbow. Although she had grown pleasantly comfortable with his touch, his tour of her arm tickled more than pleased, provoking her to wiggle free from his embrace.

“I can’t cook like my mother, but I do make a mean pizza.” With sass, she pushed his arm.

“It was a special treat to see that you remembered such a little thing as my favorite toppings—green peppers and onions.”

“Well, contrary to popular opinion, I didn't completely ignore you when we were teenagers. I noticed you sometimes.” Marie stacked the dishes onto the platter, then reached for the another plate. Clank! She dropped it when Josh threw his arms around her waist and pulled her back onto his lap. “Josh!” she said, not actually annoyed. “I chipped a plate!”

“Oops! Sorry.” Josh flirtatiously laughed. “Your confession was an unexpected pleasure. But the last time we had pizza together was at your parents’ house over five years ago. That is a long time.”

“I have a photographic memory. There isn’t much that I forget.”

Josh delicately kissed the nape of her neck, then whispered in her ear, “Are you ready to talk about Paris?”

His marriage proposal!
No, she definitely was not ready.

It was a challenge for Marie to escape from Josh’s firm clasp, not that she tried hard to, anymore. With insistence, she pulled herself away from him—away from the topic of his question. “Hold that thought, 'cause I have a present for you.” She picked up a remote. Click. The vocal originality of Randy Travis presented itself beginning with “If I Didn’t Have You.”

“I downloaded every Randy Travis song available on iTunes.”

* * *

Marie came out of her musical comfort zone for me.
Why would Marie make such a gracious effort for him? Could she be in love? A magic arrow struck a bull’s-eye on Josh’s heart. Flattered beyond measure, his gratitude for the gift was amply demonstrated by his thank-you kiss.

“You are welcome.” She rested her head on his chest as she curled up beside him.

Drawing her close to his lips, he whispered, “I love you. Can I take this gift as a yes to my marriage proposal?” Her hair felt like silk between his hand and her shirt as he tenderly caressed her back.

* * *

“NO!” She never supposed he would make such a gross assumption.

The mess from the throw blanket and three sofa pillows on the floor, among a few other out-of-place items, proved to be a perfect excuse to avoid his question–besides they were driving her crazy. Josh openly sulked when she began to tidy up their love nest.

* * *

“What can I do to help?” he asked, anxious to get back to spooning.

“Relax. I can do it.”

“A Few Ole Country Boys” played in the background as Josh’s eyes followed Marie around the room on a mini cleaning frenzy. His expression conveyed disappointment when she filled her vacant spot on the couch with pillows.

Marie picked up a tray of condiments and breadsticks. Josh collected the platter piled high with dirty dishes, then followed her downstairs.

They entered the gourmet kitchen. Josh placed the platter on the counter, then placed the plates, bowls, and glasses into the sink.

Marie reached for two dessert plates stored in a top cupboard.

He kissed the back of her neck. Marie turned, facing him nose to nose, and firmly insisted that he let her attend to dessert. She cut two slices of apple pie and then popped them into the microwave. She pointed to a bar chair at the island counter. “Behave yourself and sit there.”

Ding. She placed the steaming, warm pie on the island.

Josh looked down at the pie and then into her eyes. “Sophie or Sara Lee?”

“It is a good thing you like your job, ‘cause you will never get a gig as a stand-up comedian with lines like that.”

Marie snapped a kitchen towel at his arm. “For your information, this pie is made from scratch, right down to the crust.” She intentionally failed to mention that her mother walked her through the recipe that morning.

Marie removed a pint of Ben & Jerry’s vanilla ice cream from the freezer and smeared her golden-brown, home-baked masterpiece with two large scoops of milky heaven, then sat on his lap. “Here, taste my pie.” She stuffed a big bite of gooey, apple goodness into his mouth.

“Mmmm
 . . . Perfect!”

Marie laughed with an aha tone, playfully yet sincerely unreceptive to his compliment. “You would have made the same comment if my pie were burnt, wouldn’t you?”

Josh knew he was being tested—he held her tighter. “No, I wouldn’t, I promise that I will always be truthful with you, even when it's difficult. And the truth is your pie is
amazing.”

* * *

“Okay, sure,” she replied sarcastically, but when he asked for a second helping ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure if he was sucking up or sincere.

After his palate had been satisfied, they loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher together. Then Marie wiped the marbled granite countertops for a prolonged length of time in an attempt to stall returning to the issue of his marriage proposal.

“The granite is as polished as it is going to get. I can see my reflection in it. Let’s go back to the couch.”

“I like to
 . . . ” He picked her up and carried her through the hallway, up the stairs, and back to the couch, under a halfhearted protest.

“What are you doing? There is no fire, and I am definitely not shivering from the cold.” Marie pretending to be annoyed.

* * *

“I do not need danger to motivate me to hold you.”

She smiled and curled her arms around his neck.

He took his time returning to the couch, then gently placed her on a cushion.

“While I waited—twenty minutes,” he emphasized the magnitude of her tardiness with a raised eyebrow. “for you to finish getting ready for our date, I thumbed through your Grandmother Marie’s book of poems.”

He picked up the well-worn book from the cocktail table. “There is one,” he slowly flipped through the book, “particular poem I want to read to you.” After locating his selection, he cozied up to Marie. “It is titled
Women of the Way
. I would not be surprised if she had visions of you while she was alive because this poem could have been written with you in mind.”

Josh proceeded to recite Grandmother Marie’s poem in a sweet, romantic whisper.

             
Who can these beings be?

             
With nobility and peasants for peers

             
And as a seer does see,

             
Shedding selfless joy in tears

             
Their gifts bestowed by the Majestic

             
And life so stern with resolute,

             
Whether abroad or domestic,

             
Nothing can persuade from their passionate pursuit

             
The very substance of beauty

             
These lilies of the Nile

             
Donning love’s unfailing duty

             
Behold how their angels smile

             
And from their heart doth blow a kiss

             
For their nature is sublime

             
Destined to know pristine bliss

             
These women are more enduring than time