Spring 1944

Rose walked down Spokane street towards the community house. All of the trees were in bloom. Cherry trees with fluffy pink and white flowers could be seen down every street. The air was calm and warm and Rose could smell the fresh muddy spring scent. A woman with a carriage walked past with a crying baby. Rose was thinking about her garden. She was a fully attentive lover again. She smiled. That is how she thought of herself in the springtime. In the garden, nurturing all of the new life. Whispering to the plants that she had ignored for so long. Sometimes she would spend hours carefully transplanting a shrub, rubbing the soil from the bony roots as she took care to lift it from the earth. The plants were hungry for her touch and she soothed them. It was her passion. she knew that springtime determined what would become of the garden in summer and fall. So that was when she'd always devoted herself to planting, caring for things. Other times of the year, it was a burden, all the maintenance. In the summer, she let the plants grow dry and brittle. She let the sun bake them and rarely did she do much other than take their flowers for an arrangement or a bouquet. This year would be different she promised herself. She would spend every minute in the garden with Henry playing beneath the towering trumpet vines. Or, under the fragrant lilac. She would not neglect the garden, but rather, she would be faithful, devoted all of the time.

She turned the corner and walked up the stone steps to the community center. Next to the one story wooden building was a small park where new mothers gathered with their babies. Rose remembered sitting with Henry talking about baby food and the infants' temperament. The days were so full of Henry. When she would return home Nick would pick him up and kiss his belly. "Oh he smells go good" Nick would say.

Now, a small group of young mothers were sitting in the shade on benches outside of the building. She noticed Mrs. O'Neil sitting with a small baby by herself, under a large tree. She was feeding the baby a bottle. Rose's mind shot back to the wake and her strange conversation with Mrs. O'Neil's husband. How he had come to see her garden and she had been so lost in grief. She remembered his embrace and how strong he had seemed. Rose felt a wave of shame pass through her body as she saw his wife sitting there now with their little baby wrapped in a pink silky blanket. Although, Rose knew she had done nothing wrong. It wasn't her fault. As Carmen had said, "anyone would understand." That's true. She thought to herself and pulled open the heavy wooden doo . She was immediately met with the dusty gymnasium smell in the lobby.

Another woman from her circle of friends, Mary, was sitting behind the reception desk and she gave Rose a sly smile.

"Such a pretty dress." Mary said. Mary's curled blonde hair bounced as she eyed the dress. "Did you make it yourelf?"

"Gosh no" I picked it up at the dress shop. It was extravagant. I haven't bought anything in so long.

Mary stood up from the desk and walked out to the reception area. "Let me look at that fabric."

"It's cotton."

"Oh its pretty. I like the red gingham on you. It brings out your eyes. It really is smart."

Rose put her arm on Mary's. "You're so sweet to me. You are lovely today too, Mary. You're always just perfect."

Mary smiled and touched her own hair. She leaned into Rose and said.

"Everybody's here. I'm going to try to join the meeting too. If I can get away from the desk."

"I hope you do. We're going to talk about beautification projects. There is talk that there will be some money for West Moreland Park." Rose said.

"Oh good," Mary said.

Rose felt strong again. She felt more like she used to. Not the same but equally strong. She felt like she had a place in the community. Like she did when Nick was alive. A housewife who kept things in perfect order and a part of the community: organizing a canning party for Sellwood Elementary school, luncheons, the garden club. It wasn't the same, but everyone wanted her back. Rose could feel that. She straightened the collar on her dress and drew her hand to her ear and checked her her pearl earrings. She still wore her wedding rings and she gently rubbed them with her right hand. Rose leaned forward and peeked in the meeting room. There were at least ten people in there.

"And, you have one man in there today." Mary said, giving Eve a sly smile.

Rose could feel her lips break into a smile, "I do?"

"The first time at the East Portland Women's Garden Club history." Mary laughed and put her arm around Rose's shoulder."He's an artist. He's interested in flowers and plants. He said he would exchange work for the opportunity to visit the gardens."

Rose thought of Mrs. O'Neil outside. She realized that it was him."Oh" she said.

Rose walked into the room and was greeted by her friends. The club had been in existence for over six years and nearly all of the women knew each other well. Rose noticed a new woman sitting off to the side talking with Carmen. She also recognized Mr. O'Neil who stood up when she walked in.

"Rose," he said and his manner suggested that they were more familiar than they were. Another California trait, Rose thought.

"Mr. O'Neil, its nice to see you." Rose said and smiled. She was also eyeing the rest of the room who she knew wanted her attention to call the meeting to order.

But, Mr. O'Neil continued, "I don't think you remember but I was hoping to do some sketches."

"Oh I'm sorry," Rose said. She didn't really remember the details. It was so long ago. "Can we speak after the meeting?" She could feel that Mr. O'Neil was unsettled by her distraction with the group.

"Would it be all right if I sit in?" he asked. She flashed a glance at him and gave him her attention for a moment. She could tell that he was studying her face. His eyes somehow taking in the whole of her. He stood close and waited for her to say something. Just at that moment she thought of Mrs. O'Neil outside with the baby.

"Would Mrs. O'Neil like to sit in too?"

Mr. O'Neil's eyes turned dull and he smiled politely. "She's waiting for a friend. They're going on a picnic to Johnson Creek with the children."

"Of course, Mr. O'Neil. Please join us." Then she turned to the small group. They were seated around a long table and Mary had brought in a pitcher of lemon water and sat down. One of the women had baked sugar cookies. A plate full of cookies sat on a plate in the middle of the long wooden table. The room was pleasantly warm and Rose noticed that the musty smell of spring permeated the room. It came in with the breeze and all of the green leaves and budding fruit trees that lined the road filled the paned glass windows with vibrant springtime color.

"Before we start," Rose announced, "Mr. O'Neil is joining us today."

"You can call me Ed," he said and smiled to the group. His face flushed a bit and in that moment Rose felt a sort of sympathy for him. It was as if he had forged himself a path into a place he couldn't get out of. It made Rose feel protective of him.

"He's an artist," she explained, "he's interested in...?" and then she left the lifeline to him, to pull himself out, make himself legitimate amongst these housewives.

"I am working on a series of sketches. I'd like to visit some of your gardens. In exchange I could help with some projects."

Rose smiled and thought of the peddlers who come to the houses trying to sharpen knifes. Or the young boys who looked for work in exchange for money, and if not that then clothes or food. "That sounds fine, Mr. O'Neil."

"Please call me Ed," he addressed the table full of women. "Call me Ed."

Still Ed O'Neil wasn't a part of the group of women. The women shifted in their seats. His presence made them self conscious. Rose hoped he wouldn't come to any more of their meetings.

Later, walking home, Carmen leaned close to Rose "Ed O'Neil's handsome. I am going to look forward to working on community projects if he'll be a part of them. And, of course he is welcome in my garden whenever he likes." She winked at Rose. Carmen was Rose's best friend. They were like sisters and had been since they were small children growing up next door to each other.

Rose started laughing. "I thought he was going to offer to sketch gardens in exchange for food or-"

"Was that his wife outside with the baby?" Carmen made an overly dramatic disapproving look. Her red lips pursed, then frowned and her painted eyebrows raised up high on her forehead.

Rose laughed again, "Yes," Rose said, "I believe it was. I asked him to invite her in. He said she was going on a walk with a friend—"

"Hmm," Carmen sighed, "But she was there when the meeting ended. She was standing there waiting at the gate for him."

"I know," said Rose.

"Why wouldn't he bring her in?"

"I don't know. They're an odd family. They're from California."

"Do you know them at all?" Carmen looked at Rose intently. This is what they did together. Just talked and talked. They always had, ever since they were little girls. They used to sit in their mothers' gardens and make up stories about surviving a ship wreck like the titanic. Carmen's aunt had died when the titanic had sunk. So Carmen had known all the details--or the details she made up were believable. The stories of their lives as passengers on a ship from England grew and grew. Whenever they saw each other they would only talk in the world of the luxury ill-fated ocean liners. And, then at some point, their stories and preoccupations had turned to boys. Rose smiled at Carmen. She remembered how much Carmen wanted Rose to be with Nick. But, of course Rose hadn't been so sure. Nick hadn't found the language to Rose's heart at first. At first she hadn't noticed him.

"Oh come on," she remembered him saying to her, "You really didn't know I worked at Woolworth's?"

It was true. She didn't notice him there.

"At first I didn't! You can't hold that against me." She used to insist. "Only once or twice. After that of course I knew you were there. I was very much taken with you."

But, in humor Nick had always made it out to be such a slight and Rose knew that it had been because he had started taking special notice of her for a long time. By the time they were in high school, he had convinced Carmen to bring her into the store and have a soda. They'd known each other, of course, but Nick had just been one of the group of boys in the neighborhood.

"How could you not notice me, Rosie?" He would tease.

"Rose would argue, "you didn't work at the fountain. You worked in the back. Besides I already knew you. How was I to know that you went and got a crush on me? How could have known Carmen was a double agent?"

Rose held on to Carmen's arm. Carmen turned and smiled.

"I was just thinking," Rose said, "I don't know why but I was thinking about when Nick worked at the Woolworths drug."

"He was so gorgeous," Carmen said. "You can't tell me you didn't know he had fallen for you? Really you couldn't have been so unsuspecting. The way he would fumble around with boxes on the shelves near the fountain whenever we cam in?"

"I didn't know."

"It always made him so mad that it took you so long to figure it out. I was practically working for him--bringing you to that damned soda fountain every day." Carmen looked down. Her smile faded."He loved you so, Rosie. He always loved you so much." She started to cry and wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry."

Rose looked at Carmen and she could feel her eyes grow wet. A lump grew in her throat. Tears came to her eyes too. "

Oh, I'm sorry honey." Carmen whispered, "He did love you though. He always did."