Foolish Notions (24 page)

“Much better. Thank you. The Rose
Festival is today and I was wondering if you think Mom is feeling
well enough to go.” He didn’t give her a chance to
answer. “I haven’t suggested it to her yet because I
didn’t know if you thought it was a good idea. She hasn’t
been out in awhile and I think she would really enjoy going.”

“I don’t see why she can’t.
Just try and keep the day short so she doesn’t get too worn
out.” She carried an arm full of warm clothes into the living
room and dropped them onto the couch.

James followed, picking up the garments
that fell. “Ginger does the laundry.”

“Not mine.”

He handed her the clothes. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you think it’s too soon
after her treatment for her to go? I know her cell count drops, and
all that stuff.” He grabbed a shirt and folded it. “We’ve
been so careful, washing our hands and making sure she doesn’t
come in contact with anyone sick. So far, our efforts haven’t
been wasted. I didn’t want to blow it with one outing.”

Samantha smiled. “All that stuff
is fine.”

“Good.” He turned, paused,
and then turned back around.

“Do you want to come with us?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he added. “It’ll
be fun.” He needed to be with her.

“Come with us where?” Marie
said as she walked into the room. She carried her tote bag with all
her crocheting. “Are we going somewhere?”

James turned to his mom. “How
does the Rose Festival sound?”

“Just lovely. I had forgotten
that it was this weekend.” Marie looked over at Samantha. “Oh,
you must come. The roses are some of the finest you’ll ever
see.”

“It does sound nice.” She
looked from one to the other. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Marie said
when James nodded.

“Okay, I’d love to go.”
Samantha finished folding the clothes. She took several stacks of the
freshly laundered clothes and then looked at Marie. “Meet me
upstairs and I’ll help you get ready.”

* * * * *

Marie tried another hat on, this time a
black one with a large brim. “None of these hats look good on
me.”

“I liked the sun hat,”
Samantha said as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking over Marie’s
shoulder through the mirror.

“I’ve never looked good in
a hat. My forehead is too low, so the band rests on my eyebrows,
cutting off half of my head.” She set the hat aside. “I
don’t know why I even bought them.”

“Then don’t wear one if you
don’t like them.” Samantha looked at Marie, who was
trying to brush her thinning hair into somewhat of a style. It had
saddened her to see Marie’s head of beautiful white hair slowly
grow sparse over the last several months. “Come over here and
let me give it a try.”

Marie sat next to her. “What’s
it going to hurt?”

“Exactly.” Samantha raised
a finger. “Just a minute.” She darted out of the room and
was back in seconds. She held up a large can of hair spray. “We’ll
have to pull out the big guns for this.”

“Extra hold?”

Samantha laughed and looked at the can.
She read the small print across the bottom of it aloud. “Super
hold.” She picked up a comb and began fluffing her hair. She
moved around Marie’s head, teasing and spraying here and there.
She worked the front, then moved around to the side, and after a few
minutes she gave the once-limp hair a final spray. “What do you
think?”

Marie looked at herself in the mirror
and smiled. “How did you do that?” She brought both hands
to her hair and patted lightly. It was holding its shape, not
collapsing into some lifeless, sparse heap. “That’s
amazing.”

Samantha set the hair spray down, as
Marie looked at herself in complete disbelief. Although her hair was
thin, it looked very nice, Samantha had to admit. Maybe she missed
her calling. Hair could have been her area of expertise. “When
I was in high school big hair was in. I learned every trick there was
to getting the biggest hair.”

“You would have loved the
bouffant.”

Samantha laughed. She had seen her mom
wear the popular sixties style many times. “Yes, I’m sure
I would have. If I’m lucky it might just come back in style.”

James knocked on the open door as he
walked in. “You ladies ready?” He paused as he looked at
his mom. “You look wonderful.” He hadn’t seen her
wear her favorite yellow sundress in months and her hair looked
amazing.

“Thank you. Samantha did my
hair.” She took Samantha’s hand into hers and stood up
from the dressing table. “Isn’t it perfect?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m going to go get my
purse. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

James watched Samantha stand before the
mirror and arrange her hair. She then rearranged it several more
times, contemplating the style. She wore a long floral skirt that
hugged her legs. The ribbed green shirt was cut low. A beautiful gold
charm hung near her breasts. Her makeup was kept to a minimum, just
enough to accentuate her beautiful features.

“Wear it down.”

Samantha released the hair she held at
the top of her head, ready to secure it with a clip. Looking through
the mirror, her eyes found and then settled on James. He was standing
over her right shoulder watching, waiting. “What would you do
if I cut it off?” She used her hand and gestured at chin level.
“Right about here.”

James cringed. Her hair was so
beautiful. It was shiny, lustrous, and agonizingly soft to the touch.
It would be a crime if she cut it. “You wouldn’t. It
suits you long.”

“No, it suits you long. What’s
your infatuation with my hair anyway?” She looked back into the
mirror, visualizing the cut. “I think it might be fun.”

James moved close. She smelled sweet,
the hint of fragrance agreed with him. “You’ll never cut
it.” It was more of an order than a statement. Heaven forbid if
she did.

Her amusement vanished, as an intent
expression flickered across her face. “Don’t tempt me.”

The touch was meant to throw her. It
was meant to startle and remind. It did all that and more. James’s
fingers found her lips, her chin, and the corners of her eyes. His
mouth barely opened as he spoke. “Don’t tempt me.”
The warning was spoken against her cheek. “Ready?”

* * * * *

The day was a perfect seventy-eight,
and the festival drew crowds. City blocks had been shut down and
merchants had set up in the middle of the road, some with white
canvas tents and others with nothing more than a few tables. Part of
the festival’s charm and attraction was the live outdoor music,
from local bands. Mix that with good food and beautiful flowers, and
it made for a picturesque sight.

Flowers came in every form. Hanging
baskets dripped with green foliage dotted with bits of color. Cut
flowers were held in white containers, in symmetrical rows, according
to type and hue. Marie purchased bouquet after bouquet, because she
couldn’t resist the arrangements with so much color—every
one unique.

Samantha’s senses were inundated
when they passed a booth that offered every herb imaginable. She
stopped and bought some basil and rosemary because the freshness was
mouthwatering. She would make spaghetti tonight.

They passed more booths, which were
filled with paintings, sculptures, photographs, and other beautiful
pieces that revolved around the festival’s theme. Local artists
had set up mini studios, and James, Samantha, and Marie paused every
so often to watch them work.

When they found the American Rose
Club’s booth, they spent over an hour there. Marie had been a
member of the ARC for over fifteen years. She took the time to get
caught up on all the latest happenings since she had been away.

The next stop was to gawk over a new
miniature rose that she had never seen. Marie clasped her hands
together in sheer enchantment. “I must have one. The head size
is perfect, the color is superb, and the variegated leaves make it
irresistible.”

She turned to Samantha. “Look how
delicate it is.”

“It’s beautiful.”
Samantha held the elegant flower head in her hand.

James handed the man some money and
took the potted plant. He watched his mom smile in delight and it
warmed his heart. Fresh air and old friends were just what she
needed. He had been worried that the outing might exhaust her. But it
was doing just the opposite. It was replenishing her spirit and
strength. As his mom spoke with a friend, James shifted the bags he
was carrying.

“Please, let me carry some of
those,” Samantha said as she adjusted her purse over her
shoulder, preparing to help lighten his load.

James set two of the bags down. “What
is she going to do with all these flowers?” He looked down at
the dozens of loose flowers nestled amongst baby’s breath and
green foliage. “I don’t think I own enough vases for all
of them.” His raised the newest purchase. “And now this.
I’m going to have to add on another room.”

She almost giggled out loud. “Maybe
a greenhouse out back.”

James shot her a look.

Samantha brought a lavender-colored
flower to her nose. “You must admit, they are beautiful. Each
time I see one I think it’s the most beautiful flower I’ve
ever seen. But then I see another and it appears to be more exquisite
than the last. I see why Marie enjoys them. And the fragrance is out
of this world.” She stopped. “What, why are you smiling?”

“I’m just listening.”
James pulled a single blood-red rose from a bouquet that was neatly
tucked in the bag he was still holding. He tore the stem off and
placed it behind Samantha’s ear. He stood back and looked at
her. “Perfection.”

She was completely absorbed in his
gesture. Looking intently into his eyes, the crowd around them faded
away into a molten blur of color and sound. It was just the two of
them. Why was he looking at her that way? She touched the rose at her
ear and impulsively her hand moved to his face. His skin was soft and
warm. Her fingers slid along his cheek and traced over his jawbone.
When she brushed his lips, they parted and he kissed her fingertips.
How was it that he could mesmerize her so effortlessly?

She stumbled forward when someone
bumped her from behind. She looked over her shoulder when she heard
sorry muttered from the culprit.

James gripped her shoulder and steadied
her. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded and shook her blond hair out
of her eyes. “I guess I should have been paying more
attention.” She looked at the continual stream of people going
by. “Where’s Marie?”

“There she is.” He
retrieved the bags on the ground beside him. He offered Samantha one
of them. With his free hand he took hers. Linking their fingers, he
pulled her in the direction of his mom.

“No, you don’t.”
James’s voice was earnest.

“What?” Marie turned. “It’s
beautiful.” She gestured to the painting before her. “It
would go perfectly—”

“Mom, you don’t need
another rose painting.”

“You can never have too many rose
paintings.” She lifted her shoulders. “It’s not
just roses anyway.” She turned back to the large painting that
was mounted on a tall, brass easel. “Look, there’s a
charming cottage in the foreground.” She stepped closer to see
the exceptional detail.

“Yeah, and it’s surrounded
by roses,” James pointed out, before he looked at Samantha. She
too was admiring the painting. What was it about women and flowers?

Marie looked over at Samantha and
noticed the flower in her hair. “Do you know that the rose is
the flower for lovers?”

James shook his head. “What?”

Marie caught his look. “Just a
little trivia.”

“Thanks for the bit of
information.” He leaned into Samantha’s ear. “Are
you hungry?”

“A little. Why?” she
whispered back to him. “Let’s find a place to eat. If we
eat that means she can’t buy anything else.”

Samantha gestured toward Marie. “But
look how happy she is.”

“I can’t hold much more.”
He pleaded with her. “My house can’t hold much more.”

Samantha shrugged. “It’s a
big house.”

James squeezed Samantha’s hand
tightly to illustrate his seriousness. “Will you please work
with me here? I’m losing feeling in my right arm. And I lost
feeling in my fingers over an hour ago, thanks to the plastic bag
that’s slowly cutting into my palm.”

Her voice wasn’t as low when she
spoke this time. “If you keep squeezing my hand like that I’m
going to lose feeling, too.”

“If I have to suffer, so do you.”

Marie came up behind James. “I
heard that, James Anthony Taylor.”

He turned to his mom with a sheepish
grin. “I’m starving and in pain.”

Samantha didn’t know why, but she
thought she would bail him out. “I’m getting a little
hungry, too. Perhaps, we should call it a day and grab a bite to
eat.”

“That was a wonderful day.”
Marie said as she placed the last vase of roses on the coffee table.
She had spent the entire evening making arrangements, thoroughly
enjoying herself as she did. The day had been perfect; so had the
dinner they all shared in a quaint restaurant downtown. “I
think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Do you need any help?”
Samantha said from the kitchen as she swept leftover foliage into the
trash.

“No, thank you.”

James got up from the couch and kissed
his mom’s cheek.

“Good night.” He surveyed
his house. There were roses and flowers in every size, shape, and
color. “By the way, thanks for turning my house into a florist
shop.”

Marie took a deep breath. “The
smell is intoxicating isn’t it? Good night, all.” She
waved her hand over her head as she climbed the stairs.

The rose in Samantha’s hands fell
to the floor. It was a long moment before she picked it up and began
walking through the living room, toward the front door.