The Double Rose (6 page)

She reemerged into the daylight amidst the sisters chattering about the amazing transformation that had come over Josh Ryan. Marie contemplated how she had grossly misjudged him as she settled in the back seat of the car.

After the sisters had shared a pizza with Mike, Eliza was convinced he was hiding something terrible from her. The conversation during the trip back to the studio was spent in a futile attempt to alleviate her apprehensions.

Marie spent the rest of the afternoon with Laura preparing the documents for her collection. She was not expecting Eliza and Anne when they walked into her office at fiveish.

“Are you ready?” Anne asked.

“Ready for what?” Marie responded.

Anne and Eliza exchanged a knowing smile.

“Maman organized a family meeting for tonight. Didn’t she call you?”

“Nope, she sure didn’t. I asked to meet with her tonight in order to discuss of a vision I had last night. I had no idea she would turn it into a family meeting.”

“It looks like the surprise is on you this time.” Anne's comment provoked a laugh from her sisters.

“Yep.” Marie stood up and then pushed her chair under the desk. “Who wants to drive?”

* * *

Anne parked her Mustang near the stable. They could hear their Golden Retriever, Sandy, yelping from behind the side entrance. He wedged his snout out as the women carefully slid in, preventing the dog’s escape. His tail wagged, and hands were licked as they made their way to Golden Wings’ stall for a quick peek.

The Fitzroys had given the horse to Anne for the first birthday she celebrated as their daughter. She was a withdrawn and depressed girl when she came to live with them. Nothing could fill the dark void within her that had been created by a life of rejection until the Fitzroys introduced her to the Lord.

After much prayer, her parents hired a professional horse therapist to work with Anne. Now Golden Wings was getting on in years, and the family was unsure how she would deal with the loss when his time came.

The Fitzroy clan had already settled in the spacious Great Room before the sisters arrived. A large sectional, plus another sofa comfortably accommodated the family. The usual greeting of kisses and hugs were exchanged amidst the surroundings of captured memories displayed on every wall, but when Papa stood, the chatter ceased and everyone sat down.

“I suppose you are wondering why your mother and I convened this little family council,” Christophe teased. “Well, it is not bad news, so you can all stop worrying.” He snickered. “But we do have a history lesson we want to share with you—a family history lesson.”

Attentiveness settled on the family circle as they focused on their matriarch. “You all know the local myth about the woman and her two daughters who were burned to death for being witches by a Reverend Jones.” Heads impatiently nodded.

“And as you all know, the woman and her older daughter are our ancestors.” Sophie’s countenance glowed, relishing in the role of storyteller. “I know you have heard the tale a million times, but I am going to tell it one more time for the children’s sake.” Heads shook, and then everybody settled back into a comfortable position on the sectionals.

Sophie was a natural storyteller, and there was no story she loved to tell more than the epic love story of her ancestors, Grandfather Misai and Grandmother Marie. The diction in which she presented the family’s history captivated her audience every million and one times in spite of their protests.

“Andrew, please bring me Grandmother Marie’s rocking chair.” Andrew moved Ella off his lap before he stood up. He picked up the antique rocking chair in front of the fireplace and then placed it in the center of the room. Juliette shooed Ella and Emma, fresh from ballet class, toward the chair as Sophie opened her arms to receive them.

Marie pulled a sketch pad and some graphite out from the end-table drawer. As her mother spoke, she sketched gesture drawings of the scenes. “Will you please move the desk chair next to Maman for me?” she whispered to Anne.

“You see, girls, the women did not die in the fire. But before I tell you how they were rescued by real-life heroes, I want to tell you a little bit about your great ancestors.” The girls hugged their dolls as they sat on Sophie’s knees. Their pink tutus filled her lap more than their bottoms did. “When the mother, Marie, was a young woman, she fell deeply in love with an Osage man named Misai, or White Sun. His Anglo name was Philip. They met when Marie was a young woman of fifteen. Her family had arrived from France the previous month.”

Marie moved to the desk chair and held up a rough sketch of a country fishing scene—a full moon, wide river, thick brush set off the bank, a man wearing trousers with a button-up shirt, and a woman in a dress down to the ground; each had rolled sleeves and held a rod dangling a string over the river.

“Marie and her brother, Jean-Paul, were fishing in the Missouri River under a full moon, when Misai—two years Marie’s senior–and a few other Osage young men watched from a thicket of bushes. Their inept fishing skills entertained the curious natives. The others in his group returned to camp, but Misai had compassion on the pair, presuming them to be a married couple in need of food. He showed them where the best fishing spots were and eventually taught them how to be productive catchers of fish and converts.”

After the girls had a good look at the sketch, Marie turned the pad around. Her hand moved swiftly over the paper as she prepared the next rendition.

“Of course, it did not take Misai long to realize that Jean-Paul and Marie were brother and sister. Jean-Paul and Misai quickly became close friends, and Marie and Misai spent two years courting. Her parents approved of their relationship, but the settlement did not. His tribe did not approve either—at first—but they learned to accept Marie. Misai and Marie were married mid-spring under the covering of a great oak tree.”

Emily’s anxious expression suggested she was feeling left out. Sophie motioned with her fingers, inviting her to sit on the carpet beside the rocking chair.

Eliza followed. She sat crossed-legged facing the chair, situating her legs around Emily, then pulled her close and wrapped her arms around her little niece, hugging her tight.

“White Sun and Marie taught their children to respect both sides of their heritage equally. They primarily lived in the French settlement but took extended visits to the native camp. Eventually, White Sun became what his tribe called a Wisdom Keeper.”

Marie set her pencil down and flipped the pad for Sophie’s audience. Her drawing depicted a couple standing under the full branches of a large tree. The tall, indigenous man had long hair. A strap was flung over his shoulder securing a pouch that rested on his hip. He wore a tunic and pants made of hide, and the woman wore a full-length, long-sleeved dress with her hair hidden under a bonnet.

“After White Sun died, the Osage tribe kept scouts on watch to protect his family. Jones and his men might not have lived through the night if they had not left when they did.

“One of the scouts, named Shonkah, or Black Dog, happened to be ending a three-day vision quest on the day of the attempted executions. His vision quest took place on the top of a hill where he had secluded himself after spotting an eagle circling the area.”

Marie flipped her next drawing—a tall First Nation man stood in the center of a circle carved into the earth. With grass under his bare feet, he stretched his arms upward toward the sky. An eagle, wings spread in flight, flew off to the side.

“The first day he fasted and called out to God for peace to come to his people. The second day he fasted and meditated in silence. The third day he fasted and waited to hear God speak.

“His vision quest was almost over when he heard a male voice speak. ‘A springtime of peace will come to your people and to all the Peoples of Earth.’ In the clouds he saw a vision of his tribe’s people for the next one hundred and sixty years. The voice continued, ‘The last generation will see the springtime bud.’ His quest ended with the vision, but a dangerous adventure was about to unfold for Shonkah.”

Marie turned her pad around again and displayed a sketch of seven men sitting in a circle around a fire. Five of the men wore headbands with feathers sticking up in the back. Two had shaved heads, except for a long ponytail in the back.

“In the spirit, he heard a gunshot from the west. Shonkah rushed to his tribe’s camp where he found several elders sitting around a sacred fire teaching oral tradition to their people. The chief dispatched a team of warriors to investigate. As the men carefully proceeded on their journey, they saw smoke rising under the moonlight.

“When the warriors arrived at Marie’s house, they could faintly hear Jones’ gang riding off in the distance. They broke down the boarded doors to Grandmother Marie’s house and then searched through the flames until they found the women. The women had taken refuge through the door to the root cellar that lay hidden under a rag-rug. Marie and both of her daughters were carried through the burning rooms by Osage men. They even rescued one crate of Grandmother Marie’s books and the rocking chair that we are sitting on.”

Marie turned the pad to show the girls her final sketch—Shonkah carrying Grandmother Marie’s rocking chair out of a flaming doorway.

“My mother told me White Sun made this rocking chair for Grandmother Marie as a wedding present. The eagle symbolizes the perfect balance between heaven and earth and is a reminder of our connection to God.” Sophie had rocked all her babies and grandchildren in the heirloom chair and, therefore, cherished it as much as she suspected Grandmother Marie had.

“The women fled east, where eventually they worked for their passage aboard a ship to France. The older daughter, Suzanne, married a Frenchman by the name of Pierre Chevalier. We are their descendants.

“In honor of the first Marie, whom all subsequent generations have referred to as Grandmother Marie, there has been a child named Marie in every generation—even until today: your Aunt Marie, I am Sophie Marie, my mother was Josephine Marie, and so on.”

Applause automatically followed, and Juliette stood. Then she motioned to the twins to return to the sofa. Ella fluttered her way, swan dance style, back into her mother’s arms.

“Now,” Sophie regained their attention, “here is a part of the story that I do not think I have shared before.” Astonished, the older folks’ attention perked up, and they returned to their seats. “The night after your father and I got engaged, I had a vivid dream. It began with me sitting at an old desk. A woman, whom I understood was Grandmother Marie, walked into the room and handed me an opened journal. I read a paragraph that predicted that Marie’s descendants would sing in Reverend Jones’ church one day.

“Your father and I contacted a real estate agency to inquire about the property. We learned that a farmer acquired possession of the church and a few other structures when he purchased one thousand acres of land twenty years earlier. He was not the least bit interested in the old church and was short on cash, so we made him an offer.

“As you all know, Marie’s prediction came true—every one of you has sung in Reverend Jones’ church. But the main point I am trying to make is—we live in this house because it is our destiny.”

The family meeting adjourned to the kitchen to enjoy tea and biscuits with Sophie’s famous gooseberry preserves. The three girls sat at a miniature wooden table and chairs set in the corner where they had their own tea party with the twins’ dolls.

Marie wondered what other tidbits of fascinating facts her mother had not shared yet. She and Sophie sat by the open window, enjoying the fresh evening air as they discussed Marie’s arduous adventures over the last twenty-four hours and the mystery of the double rose.

Chapter 5

A Leap for Love

Kansas City, Missouri

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

More excited than agitated, Marie hollered several decibels higher than usual, “Hurry up, you two! I’ve been ready for half an hour.” The scent of perfume accompanied her back and forth as she paced at the bottom of the steps. She tripped over the sweep train of her charmeuse evening gown.
Not again
. The next five minutes passed in contemplation as she fussed over curls in the hall mirror.
What if no one comes? What am I going to say to Josh? Oh God, please help me through this day
.

She picked up her purse from off of an entrance table then turned with the intention of giving one last call before ascending the staircase to aggressively encourage the procrastinators. Instead, she watched them descend the steps.

“You both look beautiful.” Marie pointed directly at Eliza. “Love the bling.” Eliza’s crystal-accented, green evening gown was a birthday gift Sophie had picked up in New York City when she lectured for the American Harp Society.

“And that is sweet.” Marie pointed to Anne's less formal but equally enchanting black cocktail dress. “It is moments like this that I appreciate having a sister who wears the same size.” Marie followed her compliments with her trademark wink.

“Yeah, I saw that coming,” Anne said and then laughed.

“You really do look stunning.” Marie continued in a playfully teasing tone, “Even with that large appendage you have flung over your shoulder.”

Anne patted her camera bag. She earned a B.A. in Creative Photography. One could make a hefty case of her having a love affair with her camera because she took it everywhere she went. Ever since she was a junior in high school, Anne had dreamed of her own studio on the Plaza, though this night, all three women shared in a dream that had bonded them together for years.

The doorbell rang. Marie glanced at the door and then hurried to their side. “Ladies, the limo is here. This is it.” The women huddled in a group hug, strenuously resisting tears for the sake of preserving their makeup before opening the door for the driver.

Ms. Taylor greeted them at the front entrance to the Events Center where Marie received red-carpet treatment. Photo flashes and media questions came at her from several directions. Inside the giant front lobby, they met up with the rest of the Fitzroy family. The children in particularly looked adorable—Jared in a yellow suit with a baby-blue tie and the three girls in frilly dresses.

Sophie nonchalantly whispered to Marie, “Let me know the first chance you have to break away for Anne’s surprise. We need to do it before someone congratulates her.”

“There won’t be an easy moment all day. Let’s do it now and not take any chances,” Marie whispered back and then addressed the family group. “Hey guys, listen up. I want to start the day off by viewing a few of my favorite selections with the family. Everyone, please follow me.”

Marie led the way down a long corridor as Christophe, Sophie, Geneviéve without Derrick, Jared and Emily, Juliette with Andrew and the twins, Nicole and her date, Eliza and Mike, and Anne followed in a mini-crowd. Her tour took them straight past dozens of her breathtaking pieces and right to the center of the second convention hall.

Prominently mounted in black frames were ten of Anne’s photographs—a sand-covered baby splashing on a seashore, an azure sunrise, five individual flowers in full bloom, a zoomed-in photo of an eagle in flight, and a large tree on the verge of spring resurrection.

The entire family yelled, “Surprise,” which startled a few folks standing nearby.

The stunned expression on Anne’s face was priceless—opened mouth and dropped jaw.

“Oh my g.
 . . . How did . . . I don’t . . . ” Anne beamed beneath a flood of tears.

“Wow! She is almost speechless,” Eliza teased, provoking a laugh from all present. “That is certainly not something that happens every day.”

Marie was happy to explain. “When I negotiated the contract for this exhibit, I asked if a few of your choicest pieces could be included. Eliza
borrowed
them from your portfolio when you were out horseback riding one afternoon. Ms. Taylor was impressed. But it took a bit of finagling to get her to include your photographs without your personal consent. They are officially registered with the Events Center as pieces from my studio. Hope you don’t mind.” Anne glowed as she gave Marie a generous hug. “But this is not the biggest surprise.”

Christophe and Sophie moved two steps to the side, exposing a black sign with custom-designed white typography, posted near her photographs.

Photographs by Anne Fitzroy

Visit her complete collection at

goldenwingsphotography.com

Coming soon to The Plaza

“The Plaza?”

Christophe exchanged a smile with Sophie, then handed Anne a mini hatbox. “Open it,
chérie
.”

Anne stood in the family circle as everyone watched her open the box. She gave the little box a vigorous shake and the contents rattled. Anne opened the small gift. “Keys?”

Sophie revealed the mystery. “To your studio on the Plaza.”

“We are so proud of you.” Christophe hugged Anne then kissed her cheeks, as did Sophie.

It took the security guards less than five seconds to secure the area after Anne screamed. Marie hastened to explain, “Everything is fine. My sister is a little excited, that's all.” The security guards frowned, clearly annoyed, and then walked off whispering among themselves.

“Thank you. Maman, Papa, Marie, Eliza, everyone!!” The family let her know she was more than welcome by showering Anne with affectionate best wishes.

“Sorry, guys, but it is one o’clock. I have to start mingling with the patrons. I will meet you all at the unveiling.

“Eliza, will you please make sure everything is good to go with the ensemble? You have exactly two hours and forty-five minutes to be on stage.”

“You bet.”

Marie spent the next hour and a half shaking hands with staff, taking compliments from strangers, and doing mini interviews with journalists. She was about to take a break when a reporter with
The Kansas City Star
approached her.

“Ms. Fitzroy. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

“Of course, I would be honored.”

They found a hardwood bench along a relatively quiet hallway where he set out a hand recorder. “It certainly looks as if the Center has had a successful response from the public for this event.”

“Yes, we are very pleased.”

“What is the message behind your collection?” The fifty-something-years-old interviewer’s manners were pleasing. He appeared to be genuinely enthusiastic about Marie’s mission.

She answered with an excerpt from her speech. “My message is one of hope and encouragement to mankind. We can change the world by seeing the possibilities for the future and believing that peace and prosperity for all can replace war and hate and impoverished conditions.”

“Those are high ideals, but it seems that you are saying more than that?”

“Excuse me?”

“I have received reports that you claim to be visited by aliens, angels, or some kind of superior race of people. Is it true that the inspiration for your art is the product of paranormal encounters, or are these stories publicity stunts designed to sensationalize your art; drive their value up?”

A rush of indignation coursed through Marie's blood. Was he serious? Did he just accuse her of being a fraud? “I have never been evasive about my encounters with an angelic messenger. And yes, it is true that my inspiration is born out of these experiences. Anyone who knows me personally will tell you that I am sincere about my experiences.”

The interview was interrupted by applause a slight distance off. Marie and the reporter swiftly made their way toward the cheering. They arrived in time to see Mike, on one knee, slipping a ring on Eliza’s finger. Even Ms. Taylor was among the bystanders. Did Mike’s proposal have anything to do with his suspicious behavior of late?

Marie pressed her way through the crowd until she reached Anne, then said, “We should give them a minute before we congratulate them.” The sisters spoke without making direct eye contact as they absorbed the scene surrounding Eliza’s hallmark moment—Mike’s arms tightly wrapped around her waist as she wept into his chest.

“Yeah, I agree,” Anne responded.

“Did you see this coming?” Marie asked.

“Nope! I mean, I knew Eliza was desperately praying he would ask. But after we got back from New York, and he began acting all weird about getting a second job, I think she began to lose confidence that he ever would.”

“Hey, by the way,” Marie broke free from her view of one sister to scope the other, “I thought I saw you out of the corner of my eye flirting with Aaron Ryan. I was distracted so I could have been mistaken.”

“Not wrong.” Anne ran her fingers like a comb through her hair as she glanced at the ceiling.

Astonished by Anne’s declaration, Marie asked, “What’s up?”

* * *

“Well, we have been Facebook friends forever.” Anne tried to read Marie’s expression, not wanting to ruin her special day, especially after Marie shared the limelight with her. “It is nothing serious though, and you know I can’t help but see him now and then because we run in a lot of the same circles . . . ” Anne’s voice trembled, struggling to find the right words, “I did not want to upset you, but the truth is that I ran into Aaron at a party about a year ago, and we sort of had a moment. He asked me out, but I said
no
, and he has been trying to change my mind ever since. I know his brother is, well,
the enemy
, and you mean more to me than any guy ever could.”

“Are you kidding me?” Marie blurted as she grabbed Anne’s arm as if it were a life support and tightly held on. “I cannot believe you did that for me. Listen, if you like Aaron, then you should go out with him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Definitely yes.”

The feelings Anne had consciously suppressed had received permission to exist, creating a surge of hope.

* * *

Marie was flustered by the realization of Anne’s sacrifice, but Eliza’s engagement required her full attention at the moment. “It looks like people have started congratulating them. Let’s squeeze our way through the crowd.”

The two sisters raved over Eliza’s ring. Their parents, family, friends, and even strangers offered them congratulations.

Anne wiggled her way next to Mike. “So, Mike, I guess buying an engagement ring was what your second job was all about?”

“No, actually I bought the ring four months ago. I wanted to save enough money for a down payment on a house before I proposed. That's why I took a second job. But, I couldn’t wait any longer to propose to Eliza and give her the engagement ring. Since I am making descent money working for Josh, and he has offered to keep me on for as long as I want the work, I am sure I will have a down payment soon. Isn’t that right, Josh?”

Marie quickly spun around. Sure enough, there he was, dressed in a handsome pinstriped suit complimented by an attractive necktie, a sharp contrast to his typical look of jeans and a T-shirt.
Maybe his mother picked it out for him?

“Yes sir. You don’t mind if I kiss the bride, do you?” Josh leaned toward Eliza, placed his hand on her back, then sweetly pecked her cheek with an innocent kiss. “You have got yourself a good man.”

Eliza received his congratulations with radiance. “Thanks. Josh. You have been a blessing to us. Well, I have a performance tonight and still need to warm up. Excuse me.” She never looked happier as she kissed her fiancé and then walked away mesmerized by her dazzling, marquise diamond ring.

The focal point of attention shifted back to Marie. Emily clung to her waist until Geneviéve pulled her off. After a few minutes of enthusiastic conversation over their favorite pieces, the small group moved on to other areas of the exhibit except for Josh, who moved oddly close to Marie.

“This has been quite a night for your entire family.”

The energy of his presence invading her personal space made her cringe as she automatically took a step backward. “Yeah, Josh, it has. And
 . . . well, I mean, what Eliza said was true. You have been a huge blessing to us. If you had not finished the second convention hall, I would have had to cut my collection almost in half, and I would not have been able to present any of Anne’s photographs.” Marie glanced toward the floor, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the moment. “Thank you.” She looked up again.

“You are welcome, but you don’t owe me any thanks. I was simply doing my job.” He boldly moved closer. “But it gives me pleasure to know your family benefited from the effort.”

Marie could no longer bear the intimacy. “I am sorry, Josh.” She avoided eye contact with him by watching the passing patrons. “I was actually in the middle of an interview when I heard the applause surrounding Mike’s proposal. I should get back to it.”