Rose was sitting in the front room by the phone. The house was warm and the windows to the garden wide open. A breeze passed through the room. She could hear the electric fan upstairs still running. She listened to it closely as she stared down at the telephone. She had one hand on the receiver, but she couldn't pick it up. She couldn't lift it, put it to her ear and dial the phone number of Dr. Higgins. She turned and looked out of the front window and noticed that the beds of asters and mums had mostly bloomed. Looking at the garden, it almost made her cry and she didn't know why. She had such a deep feeling of longing and regret that it caused her to take in a deep breath and hold it in her lungs for a moment. She squinted her eyes to hold back the tears.The bright purple aster created almost too much color, little purple explosions from the tiny spike petals, forming a perfect circle around the yellow center. When she had planted them, she had thought that the orange/ yellow mums had balanced the palate. Now they seemed garish to her. Rose remembered how one of the speakers at the garden club had said "asters are pedestrian."

At the time Rose couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

"Well its true, anyone can grow them." Carmen later had said.

"so what difference is that?" Rose had asked.

Rose realized that the feeling was sadness. That if she weren't sick, she'd be outside, her hands deep in the rich earth. She'd be turning the earth and pinching back flower heads that had died off. She'd notice the way the roots of the apple tree broke through the dirt, and how the grass around the border found its way into the flowerbeds. She'd be carefully pulling out the dandelions; digging down deep enough to extract the whole root, the funnel root that you can't pull out by tugging on the stem and leaves. You have to dig deep into the soil, careful to get all of the stubborn plant. By now the raspberries would be abundant and Henry would have pink stained fingers. She and Henry would eat pie, and laugh and sleep out on the upstairs porch listening to crickets. Rose had the feeling that it was all over. That life was ending. She felt herself cry and although she told herself that she was just frightened and feeling sorry for herself, somewhere deep inside she knew it was true.

Rose glanced down at the paper Dr. Worth had given her. She looked at the phone number again, although she didn't have to. She knew the number by heart. "LA - 5577." She imagined herself picking up the receiver. The operator saying, "Operator, go ahead" and then waiting in an interminable silence. Finally, a nurse would pick up on the other end. But that would be the beginning of this thing that she didn't want to be happening. It was the same when the soldier had walked into her garden, His hat in his hands, "Mrs. Miller?" Rose remembered well that horrible instant of knowing; she wouldn't look up at him, not until she had to. Somehow she had tried to stop the unbelievable news that was about to break. Now, she bit her lip and rubbed her hands together. They were sticky with sweat.

The telephone rang.

Her thoughts were so deep that it startled her. She took in a deep breath of air and put her arms around her stomach. She stared at the phone, fearing it was Dr. Higgins. But, he wouldn't be calling her. She exhaled. It was probably Carmen or Lilly.

She picked up the receiver. "Go ahead," the operator said.

"Hello" Rose said softly into the phone.

"Rose?" It was Ed O'Neil's voice. Despite all of the horrible things that were happening, or were about to happen, Rose felt the anger pump through her heart and through her extremities. And, this reaction repeated itself while she listened, unable to say anything.

"Rose? Its Ed. Are you there?"

"I'm here." She finally said.

"I'm sorry to call," he said.

"Then why did you?" Rose asked coldly.

"To find out how you are."

"Oh," Rose said. "Well, I won't keep you waiting in suspense. You have nothing to worry about." She felt something drain from her. Still, the exhaustion she felt was unbearable.

She heard him let out a sigh. "That's good news Rose. I mean, I think that is for the best."

She waited for him to say something else. Even if he didn't mean it, she wanted to hear him apologize.

"I was horrible Rose." He finally said, "I was horrible from the start."

"I was too," she said. And, her compassion surprised her."I want to tell you something," she said. Her voice was hoarse.

"What is it?" he asked. He sounded tender and it hurt her somehow. She bit her lip and looked at the receiver. She couldn't' help herself. She liked his voice. She had liked him. She considered telling him for a moment about the lumps, the doctor. But, it was so personal. So private and she was too embarrassed to talk about such private things. And now he was not someone she could talk to. Not anymore. Besides, there were the words she had run over and over in her mind since before she had gone to the doctor. And here they were now, sitting on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be delivered to Ed.

Rose looked towards the dining room, through the window to the grape arbor. She said slowly, "There was no reason for you to lie to me like that." She held on to the black telephone chord. She pinched it in between her finger and thumb.

"Rose—I didn't lie--" He started, but Rose finished her thought.

"Its one thing for you and I to have done what we did. That was wrong. But to knowingly make me trust you, just for the sport of it. For me to say the things I said to you, and show you the most secret parts of my life--that's altogether different. It's cruel. I don't think anyone has ever made such a fool of me before. I didn't know that someone could be so mean for no reason. Or, just for the fun of it." She stopped herself from saying any more. "I have to go. I have someone waiting." She didn't know why she said that. And the "someone" part seemed to stand out as an obvious lie.

"You do?" he asked. Then, "Can I please explain? Please let me, Rose."

She wanted to let him. She wanted to start a conversation with him, open the door to his words, the way he spoke to her. But she didn't. "No. I don't want to hear your explanation." She said. "I don't trust you anymore. I don't even like you anymore." And then she hung up the phone.