A Red Rose Panic

          A Red Rose Panic

Suzanne Marsh

Earl walked quickly to the closet, getting out a box with one dozen long-stemmed red American Beauty roses. They were beautiful just lying there in the box, I have always loved roses but these were something so special, they were the sweetest gesture of love on Valentine’s Day I could have thought of. We found a vase in the old farmhouse on a shelf. I wanted to leave them there, I had good reason to leave them there. Earl and I had been dating briefly, and I had not yet introduced him to my dad. I was going through a bad divorce. I had given my dad my word I would “keep my nose clean” until after the divorce was finished, that was until Earl came into my life. I had the weekend to decide what to do with the roses. I could not take them home, how could I explain Earl to my dad? I could leave them here but they would die before I returned to the old farmhouse on the lake. I had no idea what I was going to do. I did not want to hurt Earl’s feelings by not taking them home, nor could I explain to Earl my dad at this juncture that I was seeing Earl.

Dad, I knew he would blow a gasket if he discovered Earl before I was ready to introduce them, ergo I had to enjoy the roses for twenty-four hours and then figure out who I could give them to. Dad’s girlfriend at the time seemed like a good choice for at least a few of the roses, she could explain them better than I could! There was his sister, Cathy, I could give her a half dozen, but how could I explain to Earl the complexities of my dad and our relationship, he would never believe me. Dad, was a firm believer, in being honest, I was a confirmed coward and likely to remain so temporarily. I was to the point of desperation, I had one more day to decide, and I was in a panic. The weekend had been wonderful, especially the roses. How was going to explain that I could not take them home, that I was going to give six to his sister, a few to dad’s girlfriend, I would keep one and press it, a memory for another time and place.

Frustration does not even cover the conflicting feelings I had. Frustrated because I wanted nothing more than to take those roses home with me, more than that I wanted to introduce Earl to my dad. Life is never that simple, the more I thought about the promise I made my dad to “keep my nose clean” until after the divorce, the more frustrated I became. I wanted to introduce Earl and have everything out in the open but, and it was a whopper of but, dad would blow a gasket. I hate confrontation and this would be a dilly no matter what I did.

Later in the evening Earl and I sat down and talked, I calmly tried to explain why I could not take the roses home. He had not yet my dad so it was hard to explain the entire situation. I had covered my tracks fairly well so my dad would not discover Earl until I was ready. In my mind Earl and I would be one hundred before I told my dad. I was not afraid of my dad I just did not want to disappoint him by breaking my word. I explained all this to Earl who always had an open relationship with his dad, they could talk about anything. I think back now and realize how puzzled Earl must have been! Explaining my dad to Earl was almost as horrible as explaining Earl to my dad. What was worse was I needed to return home, I hated leaving Earl but I was not ready to spring Earl on my dad nor did I have the mindset to introduce Dad to Earl.

Later that evening I kissed Earl goodbye, I was feeling bad as I loaded the red roses in their box, guilty because I was going to have to give them away. My first stop was his sister, Cathy, I was going to give her six of the roses, she was closest since she lived in town. Snow was beginning to fall; ‘what next?’ I thought. I pulled into Cathy’s driveway, took the top six roses, heading for the front door. My teeth were chattering as I waited with the red roses in my arms. The front door opened, and there stood Cathy in her pajamas. She noticed the roses immediately, she knew I was cold and asked if I would like a cup of coffee. That was a good opening for me to explain exactly what I was doing there. Long drawn-out explanations have never been my “thing” I usually blurt things out this was no exception. Cathy led the way to the kitchen got two mugs and poured the coffee. Cathy looked at me curiously I still had the half dozen roses in my arms:

“What is going on? Why are you here with those roses? I know Earl got you a dozen roses

for Valentine’s Day.” My heart sank:

“I haven’t told my dad about Earl yet, I can’t take these home with me so I thought of you.

Before you ask Earl knows how badly I feel. My dad is not the most understanding, I

am hoping to introduce Earl to him in a couple of weeks. For goodness sake, I am

thirty years old and I hate sneaking around.”

Cathy chortled, she got a vase out of a cupboard and took the roses from my arms. I hated to give them up, but finally, she got them away from me. I finished my cup of coffee and left Cathy’s, I had an hour's drive back home but first I had to make another pit stop, my dad’s girlfriend RW.

I had known RW since I was a child hopefully I would manage the correct words without sinking myself further into a sea of small fibs. When I arrived at RW’s several lights were still on. I rang the doorbell once again with the red roses in my arms. RW opened the door and invited me in:

“What are you doing out here on a night like this?” My stomach lurched, if I fibbed to her

she would tell my dad, which only made matters worse. She offered me a cup of coca knowing the story behind the red roses must be a good one. I held the roses tightly as I began:

“RW, I have met someone very special, he gave me the roses for Valentine’s Day, I can’t

take them home, and dad will blow a gasket. Would you please keep them and maybe?

Press one for me?” She smiled a motherish smile:

“You are going to have to tell your dad sooner or later.”

“Later would be better.”

“He only wants your happiness, but yes I will keep the roses for you. Who is this man

you have met?” Tears welled in my eyes:

“His name is Earl, he works on a farm, I have been seeing him for a month now. I just

don’t know how to tell dad.:

Once again the motherly smile appeared on the older woman’s face:

“Just tell him.”

The following month I told my dad. He wanted to meet Earl so he offered to prepare dinner. The following Sunday, we drove to Dad’s. Dad shook hands with Earl, and things went well except for the thing that Dad said when Earl was out of earshot:

“My God, he looks like “Grizzly Adams”. Earl and I have been married over forty years, funny where the Red Rose Panic led.