entering the store. She came swiftly toward the pharmacy counter and presented Aunt Vella, who stepped forward, with a prescription. Fayrene, sniffing loudly, was clearly distraught.
“We’ll get this straight away,” Aunt Vella said and immediately stepped through to the back room, calling, “Perry…we need this filled. Perry!”
Fayrene noticed Marilee, who just then found she was staring, feeling connected by her own distress.
“Are you all right, Fayrene?” Marilee asked, feeling the need to say something, and hoping Fayrene wasn’t about to confess to having fallen victim to some horrible disease.
“Men,” Fayrene said vehemently. “I wish they’d all drop dead.”
Marilee wasn’t certain what to say to that, and became more uncertain when Fayrene’s face crumpled and she went to crying into a tissue. Feeling comfort was required, and needing to give it, Marilee reached out a hand to possibly take hold of the woman and provide what assistance she could.
But Fayrene pulled herself up tight and called, “Vella, I’ll be back to get it after lunch,” then pivoted and strode out of the store, again holding a tissue over her mouth to block a sob.
“Well, mercy,” Aunt Vella said.
“I don’t think I have ever seen Fayrene in such a state,” Marilee said.
“I haven’t, either.”
“What was the prescription? Is she really sick?”
Vella stepped back to the pharmacy area, then returned and said, “Tranquillizer. A good one,” she added with approval.
Marilee felt quite fortunate in that instant. Or perhaps it was more accurate that she no longer felt quite so alone, after having witnessed another person in despair. It reminded her that life was difficult, and this was a plain fact that, once recognized, made living if not smooth, at least not quite so shockingly distressing. It pointed up that people did continue to live on, no matter how often the will to live seemed to be challenged.
And at least she herself was within the control of chocolate. Her eye fell to a Hershey bar in front of the prescription counter, and she quickly grabbed it and threw it in with the vitamins Aunt Vella was now sacking.
“I might need that tonight,” she said. She thought maybe she ought to take a chocolate bar over to Fayrene.
When they came out of the drugstore, Corrine went skipping over in the direction of the florist next door. In fact, to Marilee’s eye, it seemed Corrine was drawn to the tubs of colorful spring flowers on display outside as if by a cord. But when just a foot away, the girl suddenly stopped and turned back to Marilee, in the manner of correcting a wrong action.
Marilee, who had herself entertained a first thought that flowers were an unnecessary extravagance, said with purpose, “Would you like some flowers? I think I would.”
As she spoke, she walked to the tubs of mixed bouquets that a few weeks ago Fred Grace, Jr. had begun setting out in front of his florist shop.
“If it works for Wally-world, it’s sound,” Fred told everyone, referring to the big Wal-Mart chain of stores. Within a week he gleefully reported that impulse buying had doubled.
“Which ones do you like?” Marilee asked the children.
Corrine, not quite meeting Marilee’s gaze, shrugged her small shoulders. Her eyes slid again to the flowers.
“I need some daisies,” Marilee said, reaching for a bouquet. “Absolutely need them.”
One thing she intended to teach Corrine was a hard-learned lesson she herself had experienced, and that was that beauty was a necessary part of life. She felt society in general had forgotten this, and that fact might just be a major cause of wars. Often, against every cell in her body that told her to be frugal, she would buy flowers or a pretty picture, because she felt her very life might depend on it.
“You can both choose a bouquet for yourselves,” she told the children as she examined the bouquet she had chosen, peering at little purple things that looked suspiciously like weeds.
Willie Lee wanted Marilee to pick him up so he could see better, which she did, and he gleefully pulled a bouquet of red carnations from one of the tubs.
“Cor-rine, you like yel-low,” he said.
Corrine chose very slowly and reverently a bouquet of yellow daisies and white carnations.
“Oh, those are lovely, Corrine.”
“Mun-ro needs flow-ers, too.”
“He can enjoy ours,” Marilee told her son.
Her son sighed heavily and bent to let the dog sniff his flowers.
Pulling a twenty-dollar bill out of her purse, she had Corrine help her figure out the total cost of the three bouquets, which Corrine did with amazing speed. Then Marilee handed the bill to Corrine and told her to go inside and pay Mr. Grace.
Corrine hesitated, and Marilee wondered if she had asked too much of the painfully shy girl, but Willie Lee spoke up and said, “Mun-ro says he will go with you, Cor-ine,” and indeed, the dog stood ready at the girl’s side.
Corrine turned, and Marilee watched her niece’s oh, so slight figure disappear into the store. She felt like hurrying after her, to be there beside her, guarding for any type of hurt that might come her way.
Then, peering through the window while trying not to appear to be peering, Marilee saw Corrine walk up to the cash register and hand up the money to Fred Grace. Munro stood right at Corrine’s leg, his head next to her knee, looking upward, too. Fred handed down Corrine’s change, and then out Corrine and Munro came, a smile playing at the girl’s lips.
“Thank you, Aunt Marilee,” she said softly, depositing the change in Marilee’s hand.
“Thank you, Corrine. And Munro.” She and Corrine grinned at each other.
The three of them, accompanied by the dog, started down the sidewalk. Marilee, seized by a warm happiness, felt certain they were all walking straighter and marveled at the power of a handful of colorful flowers. The few people they passed along the way smiled, and one man tipped his ballcap.
The colorful flowers gave way to a spontaneous idea.
“Let’s grow our own.” Marilee looked at the children. “Let’s have a garden.”
Willie Lee gave back an enthused, “Yes,” and Corrine raised an eyebrow, as if wondering if it could be done.
At the temporary plastic greenhouse set up at MacCoy’s Feed and Grain, they ran everywhere at once, picking out flats of pansies and the biggest marigolds in the world. Corrine liked the blue cornflowers. Then the tomato plants looked so perky, and the idea of sweet homegrown tomatoes seemed so inviting, that Marilee got a half dozen of them.
The revolving stand of crisp and colorful seed packets caught Willie Lee’s attention. When Marilee went to pull him away, she selected several
