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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Women's · #957514
What can happen when a mother and homemaker's husband dies suddenly and unexpectedly.
Celeste stared into the darkness listening for the sound that had awakened her. The quietness had unnerved her last fall but now she was use to it. Now noises that she would have never heard in the past shouted at her. Slowly, her mind perceived the noise that had awaken her. A robin’s plaintive notes were celebrating a new day. She arose and pulled on her terry robe and looked out the small window. In the east a thin line of pink light outlined the dark hill. The few pines along the hillside painted a lacy design against the horizon. Leaning against the window sill, she watched the sun fill the eastern sky with pink, salmon and rosy hues as it edged its way past the horizon. When it finally sent its blinding light toward her gaze, she headed for the tiny kitchen to turn on the coffee pot.

While she waited for the coffee to brew, she read again the recipe she had found in the Billings Gazette. Asparagus, shrimp and great northern beans intrigued her, exotic and simple. After learning that the librarian stayed after school on Mondays once a month to host a reading group, she had invited her to have dinner with her and Shelley.

This was the first time she had planned a dinner since Ted had died and she felt the glow of anticipation. She had enjoyed the planning and preparation for the dinner parties she had given in the past, but the actual preparation had been very stressful. Although at the time, she had not even considered the stress. She had felt that it was her duty. This was not quite on the scale of her parties in the past, but it still would be fun to make a nice meal without the pressure of excellence.

She had all the ingredients except shrimp and asparagus; the great northern bean and a box of spinach fettuccine she had purchased the last time they had gone grocery shopping. Asparagus might be a little pricey but it should be young and tender. In the past, she had always tried out new recipes on Ted before she cooked them for company, but that was the past. She quickly jotted down what she needed on a 3 x 5 card, took a final sip of coffee, threw on her scruffy clothes and headed across the street to the greenhouse.

Cassandra, one of her students, was already busy spraying the tiny seedlings with water.

“Good morning, Cassandra. You’re an early bird, too.”

“The birds woke me up.”

“Yes, me too.” Celeste checked the temperature and turned the fan on. “I think we are going to have a warm day.” She inspected all the tiny seedlings. “Looks like you have everything under control here.”

Celeste showered and dressed with another cup of coffee in her hand, watched her sleeping daughter. Somewhere between last March and this March she had turned into a remarkable young woman and Celeste felt she could not take much credit for the transformation. She had been so caught up in her own misery, Shelley had been a blur.

“Shelley, wake up sleepy head.”

Shelly turned over and pulled the covers over head.

Celeste touched her daughter’s shoulder, “I know you are awake. I’m going to drive over to Linnet to get a few things at the grocery store. Come with me.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight. The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful spring day.”

Shelley slowly turned over and looked up sleepily at her mother. “Mom, Can’t I just stay home.”

“It’s a beautiful day. Take your camera. I am sure there are some great shots -- maybe even of spring flowers.”

Shelley sat up and stretched knowing when her mother had that tone of voice she was not going to let her stay home.

“Will we be back by one? I am going to town with Stacy and her mom to get a prom dress.”

“I thought you were not going to the prom, because you don’t have a date. Who are you going with?”

“Still, no date. I’m going stag with Stacy and Bill.”

Celeste looked perplexed, “You are going to tag along with another couple.”

“They’re not a “couple.” We are all just going together. I have the money to buy a dress -- remember from Grandpa.”

“Oh … Okay.” She would talk to her later. “We’ll be back way before one. I’ve ask Mary for dinner Monday night and I need to get a few items. We’ll have a real dinner.”

“That’s nice,” Shelley mumbled as she headed for the shower.

Half way to Linnet, Celeste began noticing people walking along the irrigation ditch along side the road.

“Shelley, look. I bet those people are picking wild asparagus.” She began slowing looking for a place to park.

“Mom, you’re not going to stop, are you?”

“Why not?”

“Maybe we would be trespassing.”

“I don’t think so.”

She pulled off the road and rummaged in the backseat pulling out a couple of plastic grocery bags. She handed one to Shelley. “I never grew asparagus. It takes a lot of water and years to produce nice stalks, but I‘ve seen pictures of it.”

Shelley took the bag but looked at her mother as if she had lost her mind.

“It will be fun. I remember my mom talking about gathering asparagus when she was a child.”

Shelley followed her mother down to the ditch.

“I was right. See asparagus. We don’t have a knife, but I think you can just twist it off.” She twisted and came up with a slender stalk. “See. This is serendipitous for sure. I was planning on trying a recipe with asparagus and here it is fresh and tender.”

Shelley sighed and wandered down along the bank of the creek leaving her mother to contemplate her find.

Celeste knelt in the weeds smelling the warm damp earth and feeling the sun on the back of her neck and carefully selected the largest of the young stalks. The turmoil of her world faded and for the first time in months she was at peace. Somehow she would find her way. One lone stalk caught her eye and filled her with awe. Its delicate head thrusts toward the sun, so hopeful and trusting. She stopped picking. Unbidden, a memory of her husband, young and also hopeful, lying naked on the bed in their first tiny apartment slipped quietly into her mind. She had felt that same awe and wonder, too.

“Mom, here let me take a picture of that plant then you can study it at home.”

Celeste looked up at her daughter startled and embarrassed. She stood and brushed her knees off and picked up her sack. “Yes.”

Celeste thought to herself, ’I must be really getting disparate if asparagus can make me think of sex.’




© Copyright 2005 Mary Wilde (mysticmoon28 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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