Thursday, February 17, 2011

Three Roses


Three Roses
by Paul Nichols

For Gladys there were too many groceries to choose from. Exactly two weeks ago Lester had that heart attack and suffered for three hours. In that time he was awake only long enough to whisper, “I’ll never leave you alone, Hon.” But before the afternoon was gone, he was gone, too. Gladys was alone. After thirty-five years their marriage ended without warning.

Now on this Tuesday morning—her first shopping trip since the funeral—Gladys wandered alone through the grocery aisles wondering how much milk to get. “A quart, I guess. I’ll get a quart.” Then she had to decide about bread. A long loaf or short? “I can’t eat this much celery.” How many cans of soup? Is this too much? Enough? “I don’t like beets like Les does…did, but maybe I’d better keep a can on hand...”

The rows of boxes and the shelves of cans blurred together. The tall end-caps of chips and cereal hovered over her. “Where’s the rice?” She begged. “Where’s the rice?” And then she began to cry. “Oh dear Jesus, please help me.” The tears raced down her lonely cheeks.

Whenever Lester shopped with Gladys, he always stepped away. “I’m going to look for some coffee,” he’d say. Or “Don’t we need to get a birthday card? I’ll go get it.” Or some silly excuse. The last time, he took off saying, "We don't have any cookies for the grandbabies." And he always came back to Gladys with three yellow roses. Always. And right there in the grocery store Lester leaned down and kissed her cheek. Today in the confusing grocery aisle, Gladys felt an urge to turn and look for him, but quickly gripped her shopping cart and asked about the rice again.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?” A soft voice. “Ma’am?”

Gladys muscled up what strength she had to say, “I think so.” She opened her purse for a tissue. "Yes, I’m fine."

“Can I help you?” She was a pretty woman, maybe forty. “Here,” the young woman said, and offered Gladys a tissue.

“I…I need rice,” Gladys said.

“Uh, did you need it for an adult or for a baby, ‘cause we’re in baby food right now.”

Gladys shook.

“Come on,” the young woman said. “I know where it is. My name’s Janice.”

Then with a box of rice in her cart, Gladys smiled a little and said, “Thank you. I’m sure I’m fine now. Thank you so much.”

"Well, you have a nice day, ma'am." Janice moved away to find her own groceries. 

Gladys followed Janice to the meat and watched her dig out six packages of steak. “My husband loves his steak,” she said, and dropped them into her cart. But suddenly, she put them back where she found them. “I just can’t get them right now, though. Not at these prices.”

“Buy the steak,” Gladys told her, surprised at the strength in her voice. “Buy those steaks if he likes them.”

“Oh, no, I’d better not. They’re just getting too expensive.”

“I lost my husband just two weeks ago. You buy your husband those steaks. Sing when you cook them. Enjoy the moment you serve them. Cherish your meal time together.”

Janice stared at Gladys. Without taking her eyes off Gladys, she gently returned the steak packages to her cart. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Gladys said and smiled.

“Well, I still have some more things to get,” Janice said. She turned away quickly and vanished among the shelves. Gladys breathed a deep, new breath and chose a steak of her own. She shuffled away toward another aisle. It was an easier task now.

When she approached the check-out stand, Janice was waiting. “Hi again. May I give you these?” She offered a long, light package to Gladys.

Gladys peeled back the green tissue to find three long-stem yellow roses. Delicately, she touched her fingertips to them. Tears rushed back, but with a little smile she said, “Oh, thank you.” She pulled the flowers to her breast and closed her eyes. She remembered Lester's last promise: "I'll never leave you alone, Hon.”

“Ma’am, you were such an angel to me today." Janice had a beautiful smile and strong, clear brown eyes. "I really needed to hear what you told me. I wanted you to have these. Really. Thank you.”

Gladys offered a warm hug. “Thank you, honey,” she said. “I was lonely. Thank you for helping me. You were my angel. God bless you." Once more she touched her flowers.  "I love yellow roses. How did you know?”

Janice smiled and shrugged; then right there in the grocery store leaned forward and kissed Gladys's cheek.

©Paul Nichols, 2008–2011

13 comments:

DBFrank said...

And I am sure my coworkers walking by my cubicle are wondering why the big mean IT guy is crying...

srp said...

Thank goodness I'm not in a cubicle... 'cause I'm crying too. I think I have read this before.. perhaps on another of your blogs??? Or am I just beginning to recognize your style... it IS wonderful!

kenju said...

I'm crying also, but then I've been an old softy since I was 5. I think you've posted this before, haven't you? I remember it too - I'm sure I do.

LulĂș said...

Aw, I have a real story like this one...not involving death but a loss...I wrote about it on a previous blog (too personal to write here, but I can e-mail it to you if you're interested).

PS - Great story, btw!

Cowboy Joe said...

I am a friend if Drew's from the blogosphere. He suggested I come and read this. I waited until I was at home and thank goodness I did because I too am crying. Wonderful.

Jennie said...

The real stuff of life. Thanks Paul.

Granny Annie said...

Beautiful story. I can barely see to type this response because my eyes are blurred with tears.

Holland said...

What a beautiful story... it really touched me, thank you.

Mom said...

What a sweet story with an important message.

John McElveen said...

Wow-- and I thought I needed tissue for my nose!! NOT!!!!

Great great post!

Be Blessed,

JOhn

srp said...

Just because my dad always said..."you're not sugar, you won't melt" when I had to go out in the rain... doesn't mean I am not as sweet as pie... right. BTW.. I did get some pictures of all the buzzers that loved the agastache but I just haven't posted one. I am planning this year's flower beds and they will include more... more... more of the attracting flowers.. as many as I can cram in.

Joy Des Jardins said...

Just a little teary here too Paul. This does seem familiar to me too. Wonderful. ~Joy

Cliff said...

Thanks for a job well done Paul. Very touching. You should write a book someday. :)