Bouquet: Sequel to 'In Full Bloom': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 3) (5 page)

“Not good enough.  To the bathroom,” she ordered.

Picking up the mug, Mark did as directed.  He knew better then to argue with her.  As he rounded the corner to the hall, he heard Molly’s tags tinkling; she was following them.  Closing his eyes, he waited for the appearance of ‘Mrs.  Carter’.

“What’s wrong?  Keep moving,” Grandma Jo said.

Surprised, Mark opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder at the three sets of eyes behind him. None of them showed anger; they all expressed concern for him.  His ego felt a boast at the sight; he was the focus of their attention.  “I like this,” he said softly.

“Move,” Grandma Jo encouraged.

“Fine,” he said, stepping into the small room.  “Where do you need me to go?”

“Here,” Grandma Jo directed, stepping around him and placing a towel on the bottom of the tub, grabbing his wet clothes.  “Sit on the rim of the tub with your back out to us,” she finished, tossing his wet clothes on the floor.

Stepping into the tub, Mark eyed his balled-up wet clothes.  “Now, why didn’t I think of tossing them on the floor?” he chuckled.

Grandma Jo smacked him lightly on the back of his head.  “That is enough,” she sniped, turning to the sink and soaping a washcloth.

Mark felt slight pressure on his back and looked to see Sami gingerly touch the welts as she inspected his back.  “How bad?” he asked.

Sami’s soft brown eyes looked into his eyes.  “The welts are deep,” she reported softly.

“Blood?” he asked.

“Seeping like Molly’s pads,” she answered.

“Will I live?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Dr. Stevens.  You will live,” she replied.

***

FOUR

T
he moment the hot, soapy washcloth made contact with Mark’s back, he yelped in pain.  “I am
not
sorry,” Grandma Jo stated, rubbing his back hard.  “I need to make sure it is clean.”

“If it wasn’t bleeding before, I am sure it is now,” Mark stated as tears started behind his eyes. 

“Toughen up, Mark.  You do not want it to get infected,” she replied, returning to the sink to rinse out the soapy residue from the washcloth.

“Are your hands that insensitive to not feel the temperature of the hot water?” Mark groaned.

“I have not spent a pampered life, if that is your reference.  I do my dishes in hotter water than this.  This is not hot,” she stated, returning to him with an equally hot rinse.

“Thanks to you, my back now hurts,” he complained softly through his grunting.

“I am about done.  Stop being a baby,” she snapped.

“Where is the sweet bedside manner I have seen you give to Sami?” Mark asked.

“Right here,” she laughed.

“Just hurry,” Mark pleaded.

“I am done.  Sami, please dry the area,” Grandma Jo instructed as she tossed the washcloth into the sink and opened the bag of bandages.

Mark sighed with relief as Sami’s hands cautiously began drying his raw back.  Her actions were gentle, unlike the scrubbing administered by the ‘Queen of Pain’.  “I do believe I could play tic-tac-toe on your back,” she laughed.

“That many scratches?” Mark questioned.

“Oh, yeah.  Molly did a number on your back,” Sami replied softly.

“Here,” Grandma Jo said, passing the tube of ointment to Sami.  “You do it.  He seems to handle your touch better than mine.”

Mark laughed lightly.  “She is not treating me like a used, dried-up football,” he offered.

As Sami spread the ointment, she observed, “You have no hair on your back.”

“Nope.  Football pads and constant sunburns in my teen years eliminated that option,” he laughed.

“Sunburns?” Sami asked.

“Yes.  I was an official member of the ‘River Rats’ during the summer months.  I am surprised I do not have a permanent ring around my ass from the amount of times I tubed the Salt River,” he explained.

“You grew up in Phoenix?” Sami asked.

“You bet I did,” he answered.

“Really?  What high school?”

“West,” he stated.  “You?”

“Central,” she answered.

“Oh, cruising,” he sighed, reminiscing.

“Every Friday and Saturday night,” she laughed.

“Bob’s Big Boy to the library?” he inquired.

“Was there any other choice?” she retorted, smiling.

“No.  Those were the days,” he added, enjoying the easy conversation as she worked on his back.

“Are you done going down memory lane?” Grandma Jo asked, feeling left out.

“Yes,” Sami replied, standing. 

“Please get his shirt,” Grandma Jo directed.

“I dropped it in the chair next to the fireplace,” Mark informed her.

“Be right back,” Sami indicated and exited the bathroom, smiling.

“She sounded. . . normal,” Grandma Jo remarked in a low tone.

Mark stood and stepped over the rim of the tub. “She is normal,” he replied, looking at her intently.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she said harshly.

“Yes, I know,” he agreed.  “Not all of her is damaged.  She just has triggers that lead her afoul.”

Grandma Jo nodded her understanding.  The tinkling of Molly’s tags announced the return of Sami. Looking at the door, they heard the ringing of the phone.

“I’ll get it,” Sami’s voice called to them.

“She has a phone?” Grandma Jo asked.

“Obviously,” Mark stated, moving to exit the room and turning to the sound of Sami’s voice.  Entering the living area, he located her next to the roll-top desk on the far side of the dining table. 

Spotting him, she held out the receiver.  “It is David.”

Confused, Mark walked over to the handset of the old-type, desk phone. 
This belongs in a museum
, he thought, eyeing the phone.  Placing the receiver to his ear, he asked, “David?  How did you get this number?”

“Sami provided the number before you left,” David answered.  “Heard about the storm.  How bad?”

Nodding, Mark replied, “The storm has already dumped a foot of snow and it is still coming down. You are coming tomorrow?”

“That’s why I am calling.  Didn’t want you to fret. I am experienced in driving in the snow.  Did a couple of years at NAU in Flagstaff,” he offered.

“Great,” Mark acknowledged.  “Got paper?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Need some things,” Mark replied, eyeing Sami. “Sami would like her painting stuff.”

“Okay, need a house key,” David stated.

“Key?” Mark asked Sami.

“Yes.  Hanging on a hook, right inside Molly’s doghouse,” Sami offered.

“I heard her,” David informed him. “Anything else?”

“Yes.  A couple of more things. Hold on,” Mark directed, turning to Sami.  “Could you get my mug? I left it in the bathroom.”

Sami nodded and turned to retrieve the mug. Seeing her round the half-wall to the hall, he continued, “David, I need her journals.  They are in her office inside a cedar chest.  There are quite a few.  Bring them all.”

“No problem.  Is that it?” he inquired.

“No, two more items.  Need snow chains for her car.  See if you can find some or we will be here longer than a week.  Lastly, bring my dog,” he said, seeing Sami reappear before him. 

“Got it, sir,” David laughed.

Mark chuckled.  “What time are you leaving tomorrow?  When can we expect you?” he asked.

“Should be there around noon if her directions are good,” David guessed.

“Oh, yeah.  The entrance to the cabin is hard to find.  I will trek out to the main road tomorrow and mark the entrance somehow,” Mark informed him.

“How about a yellow ribbon?” David said, laughing.

“Yellow ribbon?” Mark repeated, looking at Sami.

Sami held up her hand, “Hold on.  Let me check,” she said, dashing down the hall.

“She is searching,” Mark informed David.

“I was only kidding,” David offered.

“Let’s see what she comes up with,” Mark stated, shaking his head.  “While we wait, I have a request. Please call here before you start in case there is anything else we might require.”

Grandma Jo appeared by his side.  “Have him bring up my extra yarn tote near my chair,” she directed.

“I heard her,” David said, walking over to the tote and placing it by the front door.

Sami turned into the room, holding a spool of red, felt, holiday trimming.  “Will this work?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mark replied.  “David it will be red, not yellow.”

“Okay.  Talk to you tomorrow,” David said, disconnecting the line.

Mark looked at the receiver.  “What is it with people who do not say ‘goodbye’?” he asked, replacing the receiver in the cradle.  “I am surprised you have phone service here,” he stated, turning to Sami.

“It is vital.  My father is a doctor.  His service might need to contact him,” she answered.