Petals. Marti Eicholz

were easier, but who would I be without the hurt.

      Adam, Mary, and Scotty headed down a narrow road bordered on each side by a terrace of small houses. The last rays of the late afternoon sun fell slanting through windowpanes.

      On the outskirts of town at the far end of a long-graveled driveway and standing on a slight rise was a detached chalet-style bungalow, looking over a broad spread of farmland. This bungalow, a one-story house included an additional half story with a sloped roof, nestled in a pocket of light, semi-woodland looking neglected, except for a recently mowed lawn.

      Adam had daydreaming thoughts I believe we can find true peace and happiness here, a place with fresh water and air. There is plenty of space for a garden where I would like to grow my own tomatoes, green peppers, parsleys, eggplants. Scotty could have lots of pets. We could have a large cage filled with different species of birds like peacocks or parrots. Watching colorful birds flying above our heads may bring back Mary’s smile. Its closeness to the city center for emergency situations and supplying the necessities is right.

      A small handcrafted For Sale sign rested on the front lawn next to a small rose garden once carefully planned and loved now riddled with weeds. There seemed to be no one around, isolated, and lonely. Passing an oval window, they noticed the sunlight shone through, lying on the tiled floor like sweet honey. The warm glow was mesmerizing, a treasure in what seemed to be a grey bleak world.

      This property had seen better days. Noticing the faded and discolored paint, he imagined years ago when the blue paint was a smooth unbroken layer and the window frames were a brilliant white on top of new wood. He walked to the little porch which adjoined the kitchen and stood gazing out, visualizing what could be.

      Adam contemplated I do not have the money for a piece of land with a house unless I renovate what no-one else wants. He concluded for my family this is perfect.

      Mary stood dreaming of the front yard decorated with beautiful flowers, roses, lilies, violets, dahlias, daises and much more. Flowers give me a wonderful world which makes me feel happy. Their inner petals make me think about discovering inner worlds that are so personal and so removed from what you see on the outside.

      The next time they visited the place, standing on its own and resting on a knoll was with a real estate agent. It was easy to tell without opening the door that it would have dampness, be dirty with fixtures out of date. As the agent moved nervously unlocking the door, she reduced the selling price.

      The house had a welcoming appeal from the open door to the wide hallway. Upon the walls were family photographs. A photograph of a door opened a crack and a hazel eye peeking out captured Mary’s attention. She wanted that photograph.

      Mary was curious. “Tell me about the family who lived here. Most of all, tell me about the woman in this photograph, a woman sitting in an armchair reading a book as the sun shines brightly through the windowpane.”

      The agent told the life of Elizabeth and George.

      'Elizabeth and George lived in this house all of their adult life. After George passed, Elizabeth spent her time sitting on the grey sofa of this living room with the sunlight beaming through the white blinds, as she said, ‘presenting the morning sun against George’s sculpted face’.

      She had a favorite book. Each morning she grabbed her book off the shelf sit in the armchair by the window and gingerly trace the spine of the book. The sun gave her natural light. She flipped open to a page and read word by word, until the sun fully covered with darkness. Then she placed the book back in its designated spot which she would take tomorrow for another round of reading with the sunlight shining through the window.

      Elizabeth passed recently sitting in the armchair by the window on a rainy day when the sun never shined.'

      This story intrigued Mary. She noticed a book resting on the seat of the armchair. “Is this the book she read?”

      Surprised, the agent admitted, “Yes, it is. I cannot believe someone left this. The family had their designated representative pack up everything they wanted. I am not expecting them to return.”

      “Then if we buy this property the sale price includes everything? Is that correct?” Mary questioned.

      'According to the documents that is correct. The only living relatives are two distant cousins living in Scotland and never connected to Elizabeth and George nor have they traveled to the States. In answer to your question, yes, it is being sold 'as is’.

      Mary returned to the armchair by the window where the sun beams highlighted the treasured book. She picked up the treasure and flipped open a page. A flower petal fell from the page. A startled Mary quickly picked it up, returned it to its rightful place. Holding the book with great care she turned to the front page which read, “These petals are the flower memories of Elizabeth and George. The petals carry the chapters and the passages in between as memories inside the book of their lives.”

      Adam came to this meeting prepared, having negotiated a financial arrangement within their limits with the bank. Adam and the agent discussed options, compromised, and came to an agreement. The agent scheduled an inspection and had all deficits to the property remedied. Adam and Mary were happy owners, feeling relaxed and confident as they started the renovations envisioned.

      On the Knoll

      Starting the renovations on their newly gained fixer-upper, Adam and Mary had big dreams and why not? This place held a lot of promise. They had more time and energy than budget, but they made a lot of progress. Adam took time off from work. His friends from work showed up to help paint. Mary scrubbed grout and tile within an inch of its life.

      On another day Kenneth, Mary’s father arrived. “Mary, I want to assist you and Adam. What can I do?”

      Mary, planting rose bushes, looked up, “If you’ve got a shovel, we can work in the yard together.” And that is what they did, worked together in silence.

      At the close of the day, her dad said, “Mary, I will return soon with the piano for Scotty.”

      Renovating the house was exciting. It was exhausting. It became boring, unsexy, and ultimately awfully expensive, sucking up both the budget and optimism. That is not to say they made no progress because they did, in fact they did well. The day Kenneth dropped off the piano for Scotty and art pieces from Thelma’s collection for the entry hallway made a big difference. Scotty feeling the excitement of the day played happily in the background.

      On moving day, Adam, Mary, and Scotty found themselves standing before their house hand in hand on an all-white brick path leading to the front entrance. They walked with uneasiness as if it were their first time seeing the house they painted. Its walls of stucco were a cream and a white color with the old fashion shingles a gray color.

      All around them lay the most beautiful trees and plants. Surrounded by peace, they still heard the birds chirping and small creatures playing in the underbrush.

      Adam felt this was where his family would find peace, tranquility, joy, and where they would feel safe not only from the elements but also from all the worries and troubles of the outside world. “Mary, we will build lots of good memories here.”

      Their place did not look impressive for many, but it was special to them, encircled by a green lawn Adam cut and watered regularly. Mary being fond of gardening cultivated many roses on both sides of the patio. Their delicious smell spread over her face and attracted envious eyes of anyone stopping by. Mary noted, “I love all the windows in the living room, especially the oval one facing the side yard where the large oak trees grow.”

      Mary put the final touches to the window dressings, the curtains that reminded her of a wedding dress, one that hung so delicately from a neat frame. It helped that the fabric was ivory with a touch of lace at the edges and the fragrance of rose perfume. These wedding dress like curtains brought memories of Grandmother Edie, creating elegant one-of-a-kind masterpieces. Mary had a quick thought I have my grandmother’s sewing machine, perhaps I could follow in her footsteps, creating exquisite wedding gowns.

      During