Why Roses

By Dale Rogers

In the book Breakfast Will Never Be the Same, John Reed meets Patti Scanlon while away on business. They have a whirlwind romance and marry during their stay in Hawaii. He returns months later with his new bride to a home shes never seen and to live in a small Mississippi town where shes never been. Will she adjust to the different size and culture of this new life over her beloved hometown of Chicago? Will she find she can manage a household, new friends, and new family, along with marketing a billion-dollar invention from such an out-of-the-way place as Walnut Grove?

Not only does Patti feel at home, she finds adventure with two new friends. Mystified by a deceased uncles obsession with roses, she searches, with the help of Martha Jo Ashburn and Carol Ann Bush, for the answer to Why Roses?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781449798819

Dale Rogers

Dale Rogers is a writer, bivocational pastor, and business owner from Walnut Grove, Mississippi. He is also the author of Breakfast Will Never Be the Same. He and his wife, Penny, have two daughters and five grandchildren. For more information on Dale Rogers and his books, visit www.dalerogersbooks.com

Book preview

Thank you

How do you say thank you and express true gratitude? How do you show your appreciation to someone who spent hours looking over a manuscript for the joy of the work and the love of helping a friend? Mary Ann Cooper, thank you. Without your editing, I would not have made it.

I cannot leave out the readers that reread and proofed the story. Thank you, Jayne Britt, Colene McNair, my mother-in-law, Voncille Neese, my two daughters, Lana Pennington and Lori Wilcher for giving me your time and encouragement.

I love you all and remember I owe you.

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Chapter One

John made his way up the driveway to his regular parking space a few minutes after five. The sun was setting rapidly behind John and Patti’s home. The short winter days would soon be over, and this year they were the only reminder that it was winter. Maybe it was the warm weather that made the sky so beautiful, illuminating the west horizon with bright orange and red colors. He could hear the gravel under the pickup as he rolled slowly up the drive. John parked beside Patti’s BMW X5. He sat a moment as he remembered meeting Patti for the first time last year in Hawaii. Two strangers shared a table for breakfast one morning and it turned into an everyday event. As their friendship grew, this vibrant young lady didn’t mind sharing with a new friend her plans to buy a particular car after her big sale to Marshall Industries. They fell in love, were married, and after returning to live in the country she decided on a SUV. She explained her change in mind made good sense; she felt that she needed a vehicle in which she could multitask. John was amused at the thought as he stood looking over the yard. He noticed Patti had planted more roses in a front bed they had worked on the past weekend. He thought, she made a wise decision with all her gardening plans. Patti made at least one trip a week to the home and garden center for supplies. He thought of the reason she always gave, we have to amend the soil to have the right nutrients for a great rose bed. He stepped over and looked in the back of the SUV and saw several bags of the different amendments and spoke aloud as he patted the vehicle, You chose wisely, grasshopper.

There was one more place for a car in the garage, but seldom did either of them use the extra space. It was just too easy to get in the house from the front parking. They left the garage for John’s vintage Mustang and Patti’s convertible. Patti and John thought four cars for two people were too many, but which one would go? Patti loved to drive the Mustang, so it was going to stay. She planned to sell the convertible when she bought her new car, but she had never enjoyed it so much, thanks to the mild weather. She kept saying the spring would be the best time to sell and several times she mentioned it might be better if they sold the SUV. It was a great vehicle, but maybe she was too quick in changing from a car she loved. John offered to sell his pickup, but that would mean driving the convertible to work. He admitted to her he loved to drive it when she was in the car, but he thought a convertible was more a girl car. He felt he had to have a pickup if for nothing else for the work that had to be done around the house and farm, even if the closest thing to farm acreage would be a tree farm. If she wanted to keep her car, he wanted her to have it. After all, John didn’t want Patti to give up anything. She gave up her beloved city of Chicago to come to a home three miles from the closest gallon of milk.

John’s thoughts changed quickly as he reached back inside the pickup for his briefcase. What caught his attention were the sheers behind the dining room drapes. They were blowing through the open windows on the front porch. Then he thought, how odd. The front windows are all open. He made his way up the sidewalk, to the front door and as he approached the door with key in hand, he smelled the faint smell of smoke. This made him anxious as he put the key in the lockset to the front door. John tried the key, but he noticed the door was unlocked. This was also strange because Patti was very efficient at locking up the house, but then again, why would she with all the windows open. He opened the door to walk in, and, the same moment he stepped into the house he recognized the smell. It was definitely smoke. That could only mean one thing. Patti had been cooking again.

Patti! John shouted. He didn’t hear a sound and this made him nervous as he called out again only louder, Patti!

He reached for his cell phone to call her when he heard a faint voice from somewhere in the house, I’m in our bedroom. There was not a single light on in the house, only the light from the setting sun gave any detail to the hallway as John walked hurriedly to find his wife. As he quickly made his way down the hall and turned into the master suite he noticed a faint glow in the dim room. The glow from the computer screen made an outline of the dejected cook. Patti, sitting, glaring at the screen, didn’t offer to turn and meet her husband with a smile and kiss. She remained in her position; hiding her face from view as she was reading an e-mail from her mother. She was still in her denim overalls and a long sleeved white cotton tee-shirt that she had been wearing from her day of work. John didn’t say a word. He wondered had Patti brushed her teeth, she always thought brushing had a way of making her feel better. He walked over and stood behind her chair where she was holding an opened notebook in her lap. He kissed the top of her head as he hugged her. That same moment John heard something hit the page of the notebook she was holding, then two, and then a steady drip of tears. Even with the dim light in the room John could see her hands. She had dirty hands from working with her new love… the rose garden so she hadn’t brushed her teeth. After a few moments she took the notebook from her lap and placed it on the desk, freeing her hands to cover her face as she cried. He had not turned on any lights, only rushed to see about his wife. Was the house damaged? That didn’t matter to him. The only thing that concerned him was Patti being so upset. John didn’t speak but he waited impatiently as he stood behind her rubbing her shoulders.

Patti kept her position in her chair facing the computer and slowly broke the silence through her tears, Do you smell the house?

I smell something, John not wanting to admit something might be wrong.

It doesn’t look like I’m ever going to be able to cook. Crying openly after her confession, John could feel her body trembling as she sobbed. John turned the desk chair around as he knelt down to face her, Patti leaned over to place her arms around John to hold him. She buried her face into John’s shoulder with a muffled, broken voice, I was going to have a country dinner tonight. They were all your favorites. She explained, talking faster and getting more upset with every word. Your mother had given me several bags of vegetables this morning. I had corn and peas and cornbread on my menu. I went by the grocery and bought some tenderized steaks. I was going to fry them for you and make brown gravy. She paused for a minute like that was the end of the story snuggling her face next to John’s neck. She shrugged her shoulders up and down trying to finish or was she crying again.

It’s okay, Patti. I was thinking we might go out and celebrate tonight.

Celebrate! What is it to celebrate? She asked as she lifted her head up to look into John’s eyes in true concern.

I made the guys the counter offer we talked about. It would give them the majority of stock in the firm and they accepted. We will receive 50 percent up front and we will finance the other 50 percent over a five-year period. We will keep one-third of the stock in the firm and as far as an individual partner I’ll actually have the largest single portion of the business. They will own two thirds of the firm between five partners. John knew Patti understood what he was saying. He also felt it would distract her from this bad day she was having. I’ll still be around, but I feel this is the best for us and the firm. The time I was away last year proved to them they didn’t need me or really, I guess it proved to me, they didn’t need me.

Well, I sure need you. Patti leaning back in the chair wiping the tears from her cheeks with her finger tips said, John, are you sure this is what you want?

John, thinking he did his job as a loving husband carrying his wife’s thoughts away from her problem, said I know it is, Patti. I don’t think I’m ready to retire completely, but if we want to travel or if you need to go somewhere for Marshall, this will free us up to do whatever we want. Plus, I don’t feel right about having less involvement and not giving the guys that help make the firm what it is today the option to purchase. I didn’t put it on paper but I also made a verbal offer to sell it all to them, but I feel they all felt at ease with the current deal. I must admit deep down I think I would like to retain a portion of the firm. I’m comfortable with the deal as it is now and if they change their mind and want it all I believe I can live with that also.

I just want to stay here and never leave. Maybe I could go somewhere and learn to cook, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her tee-shirt. The tee-shirt and denim overalls had become Patti’s favorite attire for working in the yard. John noticed her fingernails. Only a few months ago they would have been manicured to perfection. Now the nails were still manicured on a regular basis but more for repair than for beauty. They were now cut closely, neatly and today these nails were evidence of recent garden work. Her white tee-shirt had mascara stains on both sleeves giving John the clue how long an afternoon Patti had endured.

Now, do you want to go out tonight, or better, what would you like to do? John thinking the crisis was over.

Oh, John there is more to the story, Patti leaned back into John’s arms, putting her arms around his neck again in quiet unrest.

Why don’t you tell me the story about our supper, John prompted.

After moments of quiet shrugs she began to talk with her mouth nestled against John’s shirt collar, her voice again muffled, I was doing pretty good at the basics. She lifted her head briefly to acknowledge her one accomplishment, I had even made the cornbread and I think it turned out good. I called your mother and asked again to make sure how to do the peas like you like them. She told me and I did as she said. I put the bacon in the pot. Not as much as your mother puts in her vegetables and added water, salt and pepper, then turned the pot of peas on low to cook. She tilted her head and paused for a moment, I still have the tenderized steaks in the refrigerator. I was going to do them after you got home, so we can still have steak, gravy, corn and cornbread.

That sounds great. Then what?

Well, you know how I’ve been obsessed with the roses. You know trying to improve the rose garden here at the house and also at the cabin too. I started trying to get the roses all red at the cabin like you said your uncle always wanted. You know I ordered some roses and UPS delivered them today. Well, she wanted to continue, but didn’t want to either, I was out back at the new bed that you helped me with last weekend, and I was placing the new hybrid variety that my mother had recommended for me to try. They were all the same color, except one was tagged Robust Red instead of the new color I ordered. It was a new red rose. I presume it was placed in my order accidentally or a bonus. Mom says this company is always sending a bonus with an order. Patti leaned back in the chair, and John, sensing the story longer than he expected, pulled an ottoman over in front of her to sit in a more comfortable position so he could listen to the rest of the story.

Patti returned to the story as John positioned his seat to be able to face her. Patti, more comfortable looking down at her hands she was now holding and occasionally using to gesture, explained now with more difficulty, I saw that rose and placed it over to the side and finished planting the others. When I finished I picked up the red rose and the thought of planting just one more popped into my head. So I took the rosebush and my tools and walked across the levee to the cabin. I was just getting through when I heard the fire alarm at our house go off. Patti’s eyes filled with tears and her face tightened around her mouth as she continued with her story. One big tear ran down her cheek, and then other tears followed like a fountain. I couldn’t move for a moment.

Sniffing between words, her chin quivering as she struggled on, My first thought was I left the side door open and someone must have set off the alarm, but I didn’t set the alarm to go outside and plant a few rosebushes. Then it hit me, our dinner. I threw my garden tools on the porch of the cabin and ran to the house. I was almost there when I heard the fire truck coming from town. I guess our alarm company called in the fire department. Well, she paused again, Not only did the Walnut Grove Fire Department come—the Carthage Fire Department was right behind them. At this John stood to embrace his wife as she put her arms around his waist. She had her face embedded in his stomach, her voice almost inaudible, You can’t imagine how embarrassed I was.

John reassured her, It’s alright, Patti, I think I get the idea, but, honey, you didn’t burn anything down.

I think the boiler the peas were in is completely ruined.

Big deal, we’ll buy a new one.

What about the smell? I’ve had the windows open since the fire and it smells as bad now as when it first happened.

It’s really not bad. We’ll light some candles. Now, do you want to go out or stay in?

Let’s stay in. I’m in no shape to go out. After all, we still have the tenderized steaks to cook and I bought those frozen rolls you like.

Well, come on, Sweetie-pie. We’ll go cook together. You start the steak and I’ll look in the pantry. I bet we have a can of peas. I’m sure they won’t be as good as yours would have been, but they’ll do.

John pulled Patti up out of her chair and she locked her arms around him. John, you are the best. I’m so sorry about the smoke, the peas, the boiler, and most of all the embarrassment of the fire department.

Oh, don’t worry about the fire department. I bet they haven’t had a good laugh in a long time.

Patti, jerked away and hit John in the chest with her fist playfully, I should have known you thought this was funny. She smiled and kissed her husband, Thanks, John.

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Chapter Two

John and Patti were sitting on the back porch enjoying a glass of iced tea. The light from the kitchen provided enough glow so that John could see his wife’s left silhouette. He couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty Patti was as she rocked back and forth. He thought, I could eat tuna sandwiches the rest of my life if Patti served them. How could a woman make a man feel so helpless emotionally? His thoughts were interrupted by Patti who had been startled by a horrifying sound in the distance.

What is that sound? She leaned forward in her rocker as if she could hear better.

John didn’t need to ask for an explanation. There was the sound of an owl in the woods. That wasn’t what she was talking about. They talked about the different sounds coming from the pond was most likely due to the warm weather several nights ago. A dog barking somewhere was a usual sound and they could hear a dog in the distance. Tonight there might have also been a coyote in another distant pasture, but he knew what sound she meant.

That, my dear, is a jackass or maybe a more polite name, donkey.

Mississippi seldom has a harsh winter and in early February the climate was better than usual. In fact, it had been spring like weather since Christmas. The nights and mornings were cool, but the weather had been pleasant all winter season. The two were sitting in rocking chairs and trying to hold hands as they rocked. John’s rocker inched closer in Patti’s direction with every back and forth movement he made.

Why does your rocker move when this one never seems to?

I’m not sure, but I would say this right side runner is off ever so slightly and it pulls the rocker along with the passenger in your direction. Then again it could be the left side runner pushing the chair in the opposite direction.

Can you fix it?

Yes, I can. Let me show you how. He stopped, stood, sat his glass next to Patti’s rocker and moved his chair within arm’s length away from her. I get up and move it over.

She clapped, Yea, I knew you had special talents when I met you.

I have thought about sanding the runners to match, but I haven’t decided which runner needs what. Also I thought about having a metal tray of sorts built with high sides to keep the rocker from moving, but it’s not that hard to reposition the rocker. And maybe I want this thing to move in your direction. John returned to his tea, his rocker, and his hand holding. Supper turned out pretty good, don’t you think?

It wasn’t the dinner I had planned, but it wasn’t the day that I planned either. After all things considered it wasn’t so bad. Patti commented, The gravy was thick.

I love thick gravy.

It had lumps too.

I love thick, lumpy gravy.

John, do you really like gravy as much as you act?

Yes, I do. I have made a pot roast before so I could have the gravy. Why, I had to give my last dog away because he would only eat a certain type of canned dog food that had gravy. I would open that can and it was all I could do to give him his bowl. I mean the stuff smelled and looked good.

Patti squeezed John’s hand, The mashed potatoes were lumpy, too.

I did the potatoes. Don’t you remember? Sometimes potatoes are like that.

That’s right, you did prepare the potatoes. Her voice lighter now and even though there was only a dim light from the kitchen he could tell she was smiling.

John?

Yes, Patti.

I can’t believe it is winter. I called Mother today. We e-mail each other several times a day, but after the burned peas, I felt I had to talk. I was telling her how nice our weather has been… that we are wearing short sleeves and look I’m sitting on the back porch barefoot.

A barefoot woman with painted toenails turns me on.

A woman in curlers and green tea facial masque turns you on.

Yeah, I remember that day.

John? Why do you think your uncle was obsessive about roses?

"I’m not sure. He was an odd man in many ways. He was a fanatic about everything he owned. He kept a clean house and yard. If he owned something, he had a use for it or he got rid of it. He had just enough clothes to make a week. He told me once if he needed a new shirt that meant he had one that had a hole in it. He owned several khaki work pants. He kept new khakis to wear to town with a white cotton shirt and all his older khakis to do light work paired with a long sleeve light blue chambray shirt. He also kept, I would guess, three or four pair of overalls for the heavy work and one suit. If he bought a new suit he would give the old one away. I heard him say one time that ‘A common man needs a suit to wear to church, weddings and funerals. Some folks would add to be buried in, but I had rather be in my overalls if I’m gonna be stuck in a casket.’ So that is what we dressed him in when he died. Although I would say I remember him in the white shirt and khaki pants as more of his normal wear.

His barn had a place for everything and if it wasn’t in its place someone must have it. He would never leave a rut in a roadbed for long, and like his grazing land for instance, we don’t keep our yard cut any better than he did his pasture. When it was a dry year and not much grass most cattlemen wouldn’t bush-hog their pasture. They would keep all the grass they could for grazing. He would bush-hog all his fields that he used for grazing land at the time he sat aside for bush hogging, and I would have to say his grass was always greener.

Ha, ha, that was cute. What’s a bush hogging?

Bush hogging is what you do with a bush-hog. A bush-hog is the big mower like thing I used last weekend behind the tractor to cut the tall grass and brush around the pond. I normally wouldn’t use a bush-hog this time of year, but I wasn’t here most of last year and the ground’s been dry enough to do some catching up on jobs like that.

Okay, I think I remember you calling it a bush-hog. So, it is a big mower?

Yes, in a way, but not really. A bush-hog has two large thick blades that break away in the middle of the blade. The outside part of the blade will rotate 360 degrees. The speed of the blade keeps the blade cutting normal grass and weeds. Then when a blade hits something it can’t cut it snaps back. The breakaway blades protect the mower and tractor when the blades hit a large bush or sapling. The breakaway blade gets out of the way letting the next blade hit and do the same breakaway motion if needed while repeatedly chopping away at the bush cutting it down all the time the tractor keeps on moving.

Patti was giving thought to John’s description of a bush-hog. John thought that her silence was good.

I guess I’ll have to see the action up close to understand.

I’ll be glad to show you the bush-hog and how it works, but I don’t want you close by when I’m cutting with it.

"Why?

A tractor and equipment like a bush-hog are dangerous and a person needs to keep his mind on what he’s doing when he is using heavy equipment, and I can’t think of anything, but you, when you’re around.

You are sweet. Patti returned to her roses again, Getting back to my research on roses, I still can’t believe you don’t know why Uncle Andrew wanted all red roses.

What is there to know, I know that Uncle Andrew was a nut when it came to roses. I don’t know why he loved roses and no clue why only red roses. Maybe he just liked red. Maybe that’s it. He always had a red bandana for a handkerchief.

Come on. There has to be a reason for only red roses. Maybe I’ll understand better when they begin to bloom. It is too odd not to have a reason. I can’t believe as close as your family is and you talk like your uncle had such an impact in your life. Well, I can’t believe you or anyone else in your family never asked him about the roses.

I think I did one time and he said that a real rose is red… any other color is a flower. Now, doesn’t that sound like I was paying attention? Why don’t we go inside, Cutie Pie, and I’ll show you what I’m obsessive about. John leaned forward looking out of the corner of his eye.

Patti giggled holding up her hand, Down, boy, we are still having a conversation here. I told you that I talked to Mother today. Mom told me they were having a typical Chicago winter. It snows three days, skips a day, and then snows four more. She and Dad would like to make a visit soon to see where we live. I feel it would be to enjoy some of our mild weather more than to see our town and home. My mother hates cold weather. When would be a good time for you?

Anytime, I would love to see them again. Tell them to come and stay until the snow melts. We have plenty of room.

That’s a kind offer and, no kidding, Mom might take you up on that offer, but my Dad has to be close to work. I think she feels like next week would be good, if that’s okay with you.

Patti, that’s great. One thing I want you to remember, this is your house. I gave it to you and it has never looked better inside or out. I only live here, even though I call this our home, it’s really your house. Anytime anyone in your family wants to visit, I’m available, but you don’t have to ask me, just tell me. I will block out a couple of days when you know the date they are coming.

I didn’t know you gave me this house. I would have been more upset if I had known I almost burned down my house, she said squeezing his hand, I will talk to mother again in the morning, and I will let you know after we talk. I almost forgot. The Ashburns asked us over for dinner at their house Friday night at seven. I told Martha Jo I would see if you had any plans. I’m to call her back tomorrow.

I had rather spend all my time with you, but I like Ralph and Martha Jo. What would you like to do?

I would like to go. I asked her if dinner was formal, and she said it would be as casual as we would want to dress. I thought you would like that. I think she is inviting several couples, and I need to get to know more of your friends.

Well, it’s a date.

Listen to that donkey. That is an awful sound. Is he going to do that all night?

Do you hear that coyote? I’ve heard that farmers keep burros in their pastures with their livestock to keep the coyotes away, but that sounds more like a jack or maybe a jenny. I’m not sure a jenny sounds like that or not. Someone told me one time that jennies don’t make sounds. If that is true, then I guess it’s not a jenny. It could be a mule but I’m pretty sure a burro doesn’t sound like that.

Wait, I bet that is a burro and that’s what is going on then. When he runs the coyote away, he will shut up. John, is a jenny what it sounds like? A female?

Yes, that is the general name for a female donkey.

I’m confused. Is that a donkey or a jack-aaa, well you know, or a mule?

You’re in the right family but a mule is different than a jack. If I were to make a guess, I would say a jack or burro is making that sound, but I don’t know what a mule sounds like. Maybe it is the mule that doesn’t make sounds? I can’t remember. My excuse would be I have not been around or owned any of that kind of animal. So I don’t have any first-hand knowledge.

What is the difference?

"Somehow I knew that was coming. I’m not sure I can explain. A donkey is a smaller animal than a horse and they are also called a jack or jenny. It takes a donkey and a horse to make a mule. A jack and a jenny would be male and female sexes of a donkey. In the same way a mare and a stud are horse sex definitions. I went to Mississippi State University, but I didn’t take animal husbandry and there might not be a course on mule reproduction. I really don’t know a lot about these animals. I do know that a mule is a hybrid offspring of a jack or male donkey and a female horse. You breed a jack