»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
A Bouquet for Rosie
| Passions in Prose |
|
A Bouquet for Rosie |
|
Mysteria 
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada 
|
 ~* A Bouquet for Rosie *~Ma Deane had brought up her two girls the hard way. Even when her husband had been there, life had been tough. His drinking and gambling took so much out of hi wages that there was little left for Ma to feed and clothe the two small girls and keep a roof over their curly heads. It was a mixed blessing when Pat Deane took off. Ma could not at least get down to doing something about their situation. So she got a job in a laundry, and with a free, though small suite in the beautiful home where she kept the bathrooms and halls clean, she managed to bring up her family in some measure of security in beautiful surroundings, with a yard. Now that both girls had finished with school and got work in the five and ten store downtown, she gave up her laundry work and stayed home. With the rent paid for in daily odd jobs, which she easily took care of, she could manage nicely on what her girls brought home. Also, Emily, the eldest girl, took on a Friday and Saturday night job as a carhop just around the corner at a big restaurant. Ma Deane, during the rearing of her two girls had never ceased to impress upon them the importance of getting a young man with steady prospects and good habits for a husband when the time came around as it would. Respectability became an obsession with her, after her sad experiences in the few short years following her own marriage. So when Rosie, the youngest girl brought home a young man who at first appearance appeared most respectable, Ma was delighted at the possibilities of a steady courtship leading to a solid position in society when the nuptial knot was tied, and much encouragement was given to invite him around again. George Perkins seemed to fill all the requirements that Ma had been talking about for years. He always came to call on Rosie dressed meticulously in a dark suit, and a clean white shirt that looked well laundered to Ma’s experienced eye, and a bright tie well exposed. He wore a strange hat at times, which was a bit peculiar though it did complete his ensemble perfectly. Also, he had lovely and most courteous manners. He began to bring Rosie a small, but very elegant bouquet of flowers whenever he called for her. Sometimes, in fact most often, this would contain chiefly roses. At other times he brought carnations. They smelled so beautifully, Ma said, especially in the small suite where rarely flowers of any kind were displayed. One could see that they were not common wild blooms and that they were not even hand-grown, and they looked well, almost sophisticated, that was the word for them. The sprays of greenery were so well chosen that only an experienced florist could have put Rosie’s bouquets together in such a handsome way. This particular evening George was expected and from Rosie’s reports to Ma and Emily’s questions regarding the promising romance, the visit was thought to be perhaps a critical one, and that if ever George was going to pop the question this was the time. Ma Deane had tried several times to pump Rosie as to George’s occupation and prospects, but he had given out very little on this matter. He certainly must be well established as he brought flowers to Rosie at every opportunity. He was working, that was for sure, as he had mentioned he drove a car, though the girls had never seen it, but they knew it to be true. They all just assumed that his employer owned the car and that was the reason George did not come for Rosie in it. Ma suggested that he might be a stockbroker, solicitor or something of that status, and she was excited at this prospect. He certainly looked the part, but Rosie could only guess along with her mother and sister, but was happy about it all none-the-less. “There’s the bell now, Ma, you let him in,” said Rosie, now dressed for the evening’s outing. Relaxing on the shabby chesterfield a little later, she pushed her hair up at the back for about the sixth time, to give a more ladylike air as she leafed through a copy of an old glossy magazine. “Good evening, Mrs. Deane, and how are you this evening. Is Rosie home”? George inquired politely. “Come right in, Mr. Perkins,” gushed Ma Deane, stepping back from the front door. “Rosie is in the living room and expecting you, I think.” “I’ve brought Rosie some flowers,” said George, producing a magnificent bouquet of the most beautiful gladiolas. “Oh, how lovely for her,” exclaimed Ma, enraptured. “And how beautiful, they most assuredly cost you a pretty penny.” “But I have not forgotten you and dear Emily”, said George, showing his charming smile as well as two smaller sprays of rosebuds, one pink and the other white. Ma was thrilled, and George’s eligibility as a future son-in-law reached even greater heights than ever. The next day, being Saturday, Rosie and Emily went along with Ma to do the weekly shopping at the market. Ma was a bit glum about the last evening’s outcome, as George had not proposed marriage as they all so confidently had expected. They talked this over as they walked along, and Rosie spoke of her next meeting with George, and said she hoped it would be a deciding one. The past week had been a particularly sad one for the city. The Mayor’s son and his new bride had met a tragic death while on their honeymoon, and today the funeral was being held. As many people were lining the busy street to pay their last respects to such a prominent couple, it was difficult for Ma Deane and the girls to make their way along the sidewalk. The cortège was already entering the main street, and they could do no more than take their places at the curb with everyone else in the crowd. A hush came over the air, and many hats were removed, as there was not a dry eye as the procession approached. Ma and the girls stood silent with everyone else facing the street. The leading vehicles neared, and the two coffins could be seen covered with wreathes lying side by side. Suddenly Ma grabbed Rosie’s arm, to keep from falling over, but Rosie had already seen for herself. Driving the large black funeral car, and dressed in his black suit, wearing that hat, sat George Perkins, looking fixedly ahead. “Ma! You don’t suppose all those flowers came from...” began Rosie, but she left her sentence unfinished and took her sister’s arm as well as her mother’s, and all together they hurried home. Taking the flowers and tossing them into the waste basket under her breath Ma Deane said, “There will be no more bouquets for Rosie, and this affair is now over, but,” shaking her head determinedly she just knew that someone else important would turn up for her girls. After all, they’d been brought up to expect it. The End The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives. ~* Albert Einstein *~ [This message has been edited by Mysteria (03-17-2002 11:36 PM).] |
||
| © Copyright 2002 Mysteria 1997 - All Rights Reserved | |||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh good, I guessed! I had figured it had something to do with his pilfering of bouquets.... I love figuring out the ending before the end is near! LOL...enjoyed! |
||
|
Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Bet the hat tipped you off, I am getting rid of the hat! LOL |
||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
It was this paragraph... quote: Don't ask me why! I certainly enjoyed the read! |
||
|
Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
This is great, Sharon - So - You just find a superb picture like this one and a story just sort of happens around it, eh?... Well done, m'friend..  |
||
|
Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Thank you both for reading my silly story. It just sort of flashed through my mind when I saw those flowers in this picture, that wouldn't it be funny if he was an undertaker  The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives. |
||
|
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Well my girl, if you are going to "date" the piece, do you really want to keep the word "carhop" in there? What period ARE we talking about? Ack! Ok, here's the work...date it for the time and place of the picture...there were scoundrals back then as well, you see! |
||
|
amusemi Senior Member
since 2001-12-08
Posts 1262A State of Disarray |
Wonderful story. I absolutely love it! I'd love to see the expression on is face when he came a' callin' the next time and got the BOOT!!! LOL |
||
|
Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
you got all of this...from looking at the pic? This is delightful Sharon....and to just write for the joy of writing and inspiration makes it even more so. My muse can learn a valuable lesson from yours Of all the things in me I could never be, |
||
|
Rosemary J. Gwaltney Senior Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 997northern mountains, Idaho |
This is very good! I thoroughly enjoyed the story! I'm going to come back here again! |
||
|
Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Gee thanks for reading this, I just "plunked" it here one day for fun. Karilea, my Great Aunt was a carhop for the White Spot Restaurant from 1926-1929, then worked inside until 1948 when she quit to get married, that is what she did for a living. (was in my Gramma's journal). I guess this picture is late 1800's or early 1900's, but I just liked the picture, does it have to match the words to a T? I can't change carhop for you as 24 hours elapsed but if you can, then change it to waitress if you like Here you go... http://www.whitespot.com/history/ws-hy3.html |
||
|
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Sharon, Shame on Karilea for telling everything she knows.  It's easy to make that claim in here though, huh? Smartie pants. LOL A delightful read that I definitely enjoyed...including the illustration. |
||
|
Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Oh I know Larry, kind like telling the end of a movie isn't it - glad you enjoyed it. I do tons of little stories off of pictures I see, so I plan on getting them off my computer so be forwarned! LOL~* Women have got to make the world safe for men since men have made it so darned unsafe for women *~ |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
