For Whom the Roses Grow

by Rebekah Blackmore

  Matthew picked the last blackberry off the last bramble before looking into the woods, his face lighting up. He beckoned for his sister to come to him with one hand while pointing into the woods with the other.

  “Come on, Jo! I see more in the forest!”

  Jo had been working on a snowman, but at her brother's words, she stopped what she was working on and ran over to see.

  Sure enough, forty feet or so away from the siblings were three more large, dark brambles, the vines hanging low to the ground, heavy with berries. The siblings had never been allowed to go into the forest, but now, at ages eight and ten, respectively, they decided they were old enough to make that kind of decision on their own.

  Matthew and Jo tried to climb through the brush to get to them, but Matthew, unfortunately, was too large.

  He heaved a sigh before crossing his arms and pouting. “You should get the berries for us, Jo. I will not fit.”

  Jo put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. She could fit through, easily.

  She grinned at her brother before moving forward, ducking under the branches and stepping over shrubberies. She moved until she was halfway there when, surprisingly, the snow evened out and the foliage cleared completely.

  The lack of branches confused Jo, but it didn't bother her enough to make her stay where she was. In an afterthought, perhaps it should have.

  Jo stepped out into the clearing, lifting her skirt and excitedly noticing how her boots disrupted the perfectly smooth snow. No other animals had walked this way before her, so the powder was thick and pristine, smooth like glass across the top. It crunched under her boots and gathered around her toes, ice crystals gathering and sparkling as they stuck to the worn leather of her shoes.

  Jo made it halfway to the brambles when, suddenly, she heard a loud cracking sound. She glanced down at her feet curiously before her eyes widened in fear as the snow quickly began to melt and show the unfrozen creek resting below. The edges of her skirt dampened as the melting spread further and further out before falling straight down into the stream.

  Jo tried to step away from the rushing water, but when she stepped backwards, the snow there began to do the same thing. She let out a whimper, fear engulfing her as she turned to call out to Matthew. Before she could get any words out, however, the cracking sound got louder, and Jo sunk into the water.

  Pain erupted out of every nerve in Jo's body, the icy, frigid water freezing Jo's very blood in her veins in seconds. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgled mass of bubbles as the water rushed down her throat. It felt like thousands of knives were ripping into Jo's skin, and she knew right there and then that she was never going to be warm again.

  She tried to open her eyes in hopes of seeing the surface, but her eyelids were too weak against the force of the current, and the churning sand and pebbles that had washed up from the creek bed cut her soft skin like sandpaper. Her chest was growing tight, and her head was getting foggier and foggier. She lifted her hands and tried to feel for the hole so that she could pull herself out, but she had somehow managed to get flipped over so many times that she hadn't the slightest inclination about which way was up.

  Jo let out another gargled gasp and began to shake, her body no longer feeling as the cold as everything went dark only for her to suddenly be filled with warmth as she was dragged up to the surface. The warmth only lasted a few seconds before the chilly wind froze her down to her very bones, her sopping dress turning rigid as it turned to ice.

  Jo let out a sputtering cough before her savior rolled her onto her side so that the water and mucus went into the snow rather than back down her throat. Once all the water was gone she let out another cough before gasping, taking in as much air as she could in a single breath.

  She tried to roll over to see who had pulled her out, but before she could, everything went black, once again.

  Jo was startled back to reality when Susanna began to pull on her arm. “Come on, Jo, we are almost to town! Just a few steps more and we will be there.”

  Jo shook her head and waited for her vision to clear before taking Susanna's hand and allowing herself to be dragged. She didn't have the slightest idea of where they were going. Susanna had said that she needed ingredients to make a birthday cake for Mrs. Anderson, but Jo wasn't sure if that meant that she had to spend the whole trip with Susanna, or if she could wander off on her own.

  When Jo asked Susanna this, Susanna chuckled. “You can go anywhere you want, silly goose! Our town is safe enough that women such as us can shop without having to fear for our wellbeing. Just meet me right back here when that clock,” she pointed to a large clock tower a half-mile or so into the town square, “says the time is a quarter after one. All right?”

  “All right.” Susanna flashed Jo a smile before disappearing into the throngs of shoppers. Jo tried to keep her eyes on her, but it only took a few seconds before she was lost in the crowd.

  Alone for the first time since arriving in St. Louis, Jo took in the sights and the smells of the city. There was a bit of a putrid scent lingering in the air (likely from a rendering business, something she had heard about distantly, but had never learned the details about), and the sky was so filled with smog that she could barely differentiate between clouds and pollution.

  Jo wrinkled up her nose. From Mangrove House Jo could see some of the smoggy air, but that was nothing compared to the despairing gray clouds that covered the top of nearly everything her eyes could see. The people, too . . . goodness, there were more people in the small city square than Jo had seen in her entire life. People in all shapes, sizes, and colors were walking around, shoving other people aside and using every part of their body to maneuver their way through the crowd.

  “Watch where you're going!” an angry voice shouted in Jo's ear before pushing her to the side.

  Jo crashed straight into another person, who immediately seemed just as affronted as the first person had. “My apologies,” Jo quickly uttered, holding her hands up and trying to step out of everyone's way. She was unsuccessful, however, and found herself getting shoved further and further back until she was past the point where Susanna and she had separated.

  Jo narrowed her eyes and grit her teeth. She didn't know where she was trying to go, but if she wanted to discover anything in this town, she was going to have to find a way to get to one of the shops or stalls, no matter how difficult it was.

  Jo tried to make herself smaller as she dived straight in, but all sucking in did was make her corset feel like it had been laced far too tightly, and she felt silly holding her pelvic bones away from her stays. She held her hands in front of her body like she was swimming and used them to part a pathway in front of her, trying her hardest not to gag at the vile smells of body odor and human waste that mixed with the air and invaded all of Jo's senses. She could taste the stench in the air, the flavor in her mouth akin to having just drank sour milk. She could see an alarming lack of hygiene in several of the city-goers, their blackened teeth rotting out of their skulls and their skin looking as though it had never been graced with its yearly bathing ritual.

  Jo held her breath and pushed harder, grimacing as she felt one of her boots stomp down on something squishy and wet. She forced herself not to stop and look at what she had stepped in. She was sure that she was better off not knowing, and with so many pebbles covering the ground, it was very likely that she would manage to scrape off the goo before she even had a chance to get into the first shop.

  Fortunately, this seemed to be the case, as when Jo finally managed to emerge on the opposite side of the crowd, her feet were no longer sticking to the ground. She glanced down at the front of her boot nervously, but she was pleased to find that there was no identifiable waste coating any part of the leather.

  Jo kicked her feet a few final times in the dirt before going into the shop that she was standing in front of. She was overwhelmed by the decadent aromas that swirled around her and held her tightly in its grasp
the moment that she opened the door. She had never been in a place like this, where, it seemed, people baked and sold desserts. She had not seen a single shop selling delicacies such as these back in her home town. Clearly, she was missing out.

  Jo wandered up to the front counter, where a young woman in a beautiful woolen red dress was leaning. She was tapping the fingers of one hand against the counter and flipping through a tome with the other. Her curly blonde hair was spun up into onto the top of her head, and her lips were painted with a dark-red rouge.

  Jo cleared her throat as she reached the front, trying to get the woman’s attention. She couldn’t see any of the delicious treats from where she was standing, but the smell was most definitely enough for her to know she wanted something full of chocolate.

  The woman didn't look up, so Jo tried again. This time, the woman looked up and gave Jo a smile. “Welcome to Marjorie's Bakery, miss. My name is Hattie. Can I help you today?”

  “Yes, thank you. There are such wondrous smells coming from the inside of your shop. I was hoping I could purchase something with a bit of chocolate in it.”

  Hattie's smile grew, and she held up a finger before disappearing through a door behind the counter. Jo waited for a moment for her to come back before deciding that her time would be better spent looking around the shop.

  From what Jo could tell, Marjorie's Bakery was just that: a bakery. However, tucked into the back corner of the shop was a few shelves that had what looked to be handmade knickknacks and other assorted items. There were little porcelain animals, and flowers dipped in wax. There were also a few chrome hairbrushes, pocket mirrors, and round little jewelry boxes that sparsely looked large enough to hold a pin.

  Jo stared at the items before picking up one of the preserved roses. She held it up to her nose, surprised to find out that it still held a slight aroma other than of the wax. The rose was pink in color, although it looked orange beneath the wax.

  The bud would look amazing in Mrs. Anderson's hair.

  Jo debated with herself for several seconds before taking the rose up to the front counter. Buying such a beautiful item for Mrs. Anderson was a bit risqué, especially as Jo was unsure of her feelings for her, but the longer that she toyed with the flower, the more right buying it seemed.

  Jo set the rose on the counter. She leaned forward and rested on her forearms before her eyes drifted back over to the knickknacks where there were still several beautiful wax flowers resting, just waiting for Jo to pick them up and buy for Mrs. Anderson.

  Of course, then, it made sense for her to purchase six more.

  By the time that Jo had carefully selected which flowers she wanted, Hattie had returned to the counter with a beautiful chocolate silk pie.

  Jo couldn't help but grin as she saw all the chocolate in front of her. “Thank you so much,” she said, reaching into the pocket of her coat and pulling out her coin purse. She counted out the total before taking both the pie and the roses in her hands.

  Jo had started to turn around and walk towards the door when she remembered how absurdly busy the town had been, and how much of a struggle it had been simply to get into the bakery. She wanted to enjoy the pie (and to split it with Dessie and Susanna, she reminded herself, feeling ashamed at her selfishness) and to give Mrs. Anderson the flowers, but with how many people were bumping into one another and shoving their way through the streets, she wasn’t sure that she could do that without finding some other way to get the goodies home.

  She turned back around and looked at Hattie who, surprisingly, was staring at Jo with soft eyes, her cheeks flushing a pale-pink color. Jo cleared her throat again and Hattie’s blush darkened. “Is there something else I can do for you, miss?” Hattie asked, tossing a stray curl over one shoulder and twisting it nervously in between her fingers.

  Jo nodded. “Do you have anything I could put the pie in, so I can make it home without it getting ruined?”

  “Of course, miss.” Hattie went back through the door behind the counter, coming back a moment later with a small wooden box. Jo walked over to her, and Hattie held it out.

  The box was beautiful, to say the least, and was just as detailed as the armoire in Mrs. Anderson’s bedroom was. The wood depicted a full scene of Adam and Eve in Eden, intricately carved from the faces of the couple down to the veins on the foliage. It was quite possibly one of the most exquisite things that Jo had ever seen, and was most likely one of the most expensive.

  Jo furrowed her brows. “How much is that?” she asked, glancing down at her coin purse before looking back up at the box. Mrs. Anderson had given her a little bit of money for her service, but Jo highly doubted that what she had left would even pay for the hinges on the box, let alone for the entire thing.

  Hattie shook her head and held it out to Jo. When Jo didn’t take it, Hattie reached across the counter and took Jo’s purchases, placing them in the box herself. “No charge.”

  “What?” Jo’s eyes widened. Hattie tried to hand her the box, but Jo pushed it away. “I cannot accept this; it has to be worth so much!”

  Hattie pushed it back across the counter, and pressed it against Jo’s hands until Jo finally wrapped her fingers around it. “Like I said, free of charge. It’s mine, and I want you to have it.”

  “But . . . why?”

  The blush on Hattie’s cheeks, somehow, grew even darker, and she rocked her weight back onto her heels. “Have a nice day, miss.”

  Before Jo could say anything else, Hattie had spun around and disappeared into the backroom. Jo stood in place in confusion for several minutes, still unsure about whether it was possible for her to accept such a wondrous gift. She thought about leaving the store with it in her hands, but it worried her that, perhaps, Hattie would change her mind and try to track her down in the rowdy crowd, a feat that Jo didn’t believe the petite blonde was capable of.

  It took a while, but eventually, Jo had to accept that Hattie wasn’t coming back out until after Jo left, so she moved the heavy wood under her arm and made her way out of the shop. When she reached the street, she was reminded instantly of why she had needed the box in the first place, and she was incredibly grateful that Hattie had given it to her. Jo was pushed around again and again, and she struggled to make it through to the other side.

  Once she had reached a clearing, she paused to catch her breath, letting her gaze drift around at some of the different store fronts. The corner store, however, was what caught her eye, and she knew that she had to buy what they were selling.

  Now just to figure out how to get back across the crowd.

  10

  “I cannot believe you bought all these roses,” Susanna drawled, shaking her head as she hoisted one of the potted plants up on her hip. She let out a breath and blew it out, shaking her head. “Were these really necessary?”

  “I told you, I want to try and redo Mrs. Anderson's garden. I know she explicitly told Dessie and you not to, but she has yet to utter those words to me.” She, too, had to adjust her stance so that she could more easily hold the potted roses in addition to her box of goodies from Marjorie's Bakery. She lunged forward as the wooden box started to slip from her arms. She used her knee to catch the side of the box, balancing her elbow on her thigh as she wrapped her hand around the corner of the box.

  Susanna giggled at Jo’s struggle. “And what shall you do with these until the snow melts? These roses are beautiful, but they will wither and fade if the snow falls again. Are you really going to plant them now?”

  “Of course not. I shall keep them inside until the time is right.” She adjusted her position again and quickened her pace.

  Susanna shook her head, but she didn't say anything else on the subject. In fact, she didn't say anything the rest of the way home, too focused on not tripping over loose roots or snake holes to carry on a conversation.

  While Jo was not exactly fond of the way that the silence gave her time to contemplate why she had felt the need to buy so many rose bushes, she was glad th
at Susanna didn't ask too many questions. Jo knew exactly what Susanna was thinking, and she wasn't quite sure that she had the answers all figured out for herself. If she had been working for any other family, for any other mistress, Jo likely would not have bothered with doing anything like this, but there was just something about Mrs. Anderson that made Jo want to do nice things for her.

  Jo hoisted the plants higher on her hips, taking a deep breath to steady herself when the weight began to tip her forwards. The pots were a lot heavier than she expected them to be, even with the full bushes. It made Susanna’s and her journey take almost a quarter of an hour longer than it had to get to town, but eventually, they made it back to Mangrove House and inside the threshold. Once they were back in the warmth of the house, Susanna immediately started to put the plants down in the front hallway. Jo, however, disagreed with that idea, and used her foot to block Susanna’s path. “Susanna, the roses will die if we leave them in here. It is far too cold for their tender buds to be away from a fire for any longer than this.”

  Susanna raised an eyebrow and stuck out her tongue. “That's what you get for insisting on buying rose bushes in winter. It will be only your fault if they do not last until spring.” Regardless of her words, she picked the pots back up and followed Jo into the kitchen.

  Jo and Susanna dropped the bushes along the wall by the fire as soon as they reached the kitchen, startling Dessie and making her drop the pear she had been eating. She looked at the plants in confusion before looking at Jo. “What in the world possessed you to buy these plants? And why, pray tell, did you think it was necessary to buy these in winter? Thomas sells potted flowers all year long; you could have waited until the first of spring if you are really so determined to rebuild the garden.”

  Susanna threw her hands up in the air. “That is what I tried to tell her, but she would not listen!” She lowered her arms and crossed them over her stomach, giving Jo a pointed look.