Rock Garden
an excerpt

Daisy

The ox-eye daisy is the quintessential common flower, found in fields and pastures, roadsides and gardens. The daisy, to me, symbolizes overlooked beauty. Of course, we all played "Loves me. Loves me not." as children. Some of us are still playing it. "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you." -J.

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Ben paused outside the door to his apartment. The long hallway smelled of onions and wet dog, like it always did. Catherine didn't like the design of apartment buildings that had long inside hallways. Her place was a walk up apartment, but then it was also in the suburbs of Washington, DC, while Ben's was right here in Rosslyn overlooking the Iwo Jima Memorial and had an incredible view of the National Mall. At night the monuments were glowing and quite beautiful. And in the springtime, the cherry blossoms had been soft pink clouds punctuating the landscape. She had joked with him back then, only three months after they had met, that she was tempted to stay with him for the views from his apartment alone.

"Now, before we go in, be a good girl and close your eyes."

"Why? Ben, what's going on?" She had been kept in the dark about the gallery events and now this.

"All in good time, my pretty. All in good time." It was a bad Wicked Witch of the West imitation, but it made her laugh anyway.

"All right. I'll play along."

"You'd better. No peeking," he stressed. He opened the door to his apartment and looked back at her. "Now close those eyes tight!"

She did as she was told and he took her hand and led her into the apartment. She shuffled instead of taking regular steps since she wasn't used to walking with her eyes closed. As soon as the door opened, she smelled wonderful smells. There was dinner already inside.

He stopped her and told her to stand there and keep her eyes closed. She heard him moving some things around, heard a drawer open and close, coming from the direction of the kitchen, then she heard him walking around the apartment. Finally she heard the unmistakable sound of a match striking, a quiet pause, and then she heard him blow out the match. He walked back over to the efficiency kitchen and ran water over the match like he always did. Then she heard the lid of the trashcan, up, then down.

Then he was back at her side. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am. Can I open my eyes now?"

"Almost. Walk over here." He guided her over toward the window where the dining table was. "OK, good girl. Now you can look."

Catherine opened her eyes. There on the table was a candlelit dinner for two all set up. There were three roses on the table in a vase and the white tablecloth was strewn with roses. The table was set with two elegant white china plates, actual silver utensils, and crystal goblets. She looked at Ben with what must have been an astonished and questioning face because he smiled and said, "It's a special evening. Just for us."

"Wow! When did you have time to do this?"

"I had help."

Catherine suspected she knew who had been helping...Lenore and Ian. That would explain the secretive behavior and the handing off of things at the gallery.

"Lenore came over and set up the table and let me borrow the china and stuff. And she brought the dinner over from Scorpios. I got your favorite, Diablo Chicken and some salads, and the flourless chocolate torte for dessert."

He leaned over and kissed her.

"Um. I don't know what to say. It is beautiful." And it was beautiful, the candlelight augmented by the glowing lights from the monuments gave the entire room a soft and romantic feel. "What's all this for?"

"I'll tell you everything, but let's talk about it while we eat. I'm starving. I didn't eat anything at the gallery because I was nervous and having to talk to everyone. And that chicken smells really good. Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she said, and she made a move toward the kitchen.

"No, Pookie, you sit down and let me be the waiter." He kissed her again, picked up the plates from the table, and walked over to the kitchen. He returned with two perfectly plated Diablo Chickens. It looked just like how they serve it in the restaurant, the boneless chicken breasts crusted with spices and grilled, perched atop a bed of pasta, surrounded with a spicy tomato sauce, with parmesan shards. They had even sent the little pitchforks carved from carrots, and Ben had placed them just like they did at the restaurant.

"Diner is served," he said in a bad French accent.

She laughed. "Amazing!" she complimented him.

He disappeared again and returned with two salad plates with Caesar salad on them. They liked to eat their salads after their meals, an affectation that Ben had picked up in Europe and then convinced Catherine that it was a better way to eat. It had made them remembered in their regular restaurants because almost no one else ordered their salads to be delivered after the main courses.

"This way, I can sit and talk and not have to jump up for the salads later," Ben said. He opened a bottle of red wine, poured two glasses and sat down. Then he jumped back up again. "Bread and water!" he remembered and went to get those.

"Excellent service, monsieur," she said laughing.

"Well, the order and delivery wasn't that good, but at least we have everything now. To a wonderful evening!" he said, picking up his wine glass for the toast.

"Yes, to you and your success!" she added.

They clinked glasses and tasted the wine.

"Yummy!" she said.

"Bon appetit!"

They started eating and in between bites, Ben told her what had been going on.

"Marcus called about a week ago and told me that Delores Huffman was going to be in town during the show. He said he was going to invite her, just for fun. So, he sent her the invitation and a handwritten note about how he believed in my work and thought it was something she should see. He enclosed both of those postcards we had done for the show. I didn't have any hopes at all. I thought it was ambitious of him, but didn't think anything more about it.

"Well, it turns out that Delores Huffman liked what she saw in the postcards and called Marcus. She met him for lunch on Wednesday and looked at my portfolio. Marcus didn't tell me about that because he didn't want to get my hopes up. Wednesday evening when I went over there to do some show preparations he was acting all strange and grinning like a fool. He finally broke down and told me. Delores had loved my portfolio and was planning on attending the opening. She wanted to see the work and to meet me.

"It's a good thing I was busy with show stuff because if you'd been around me on Thursday you would have guessed that something was up. I was afraid today that you could tell that I was even more nervous than I should have been."

"Well, I know you are sensitive and hadn't had a big show like that, so that's all I thought it was. Snookums, this is great!"

"Well, it gets even better. Delores got there pretty soon after seven this evening. I saw her come in, and Marcus and I decided that I should wait in the back and not dog her around the studio. That way she could react to things and without me standing there being all worried about whether she liked it and stuff like that.

"Marcus went over and greeted her and then let her walk around. She took forever, it seemed. Other people were coming in and oohing and aahing and starting to pay attention to me. Delores looked over and said, 'And here we have the artist himself!' in a dramatic sort of Hollywood voice. Well, you met her so you can imagine. Then she came over and gave me one of those double air kisses like you got, and then latched onto my arm and talked and talked and talked.

"She likes my work. She really likes my work. By the time you had arrived, we had already walked around and talked about most of the pieces, the inspirations, what I had done to the photographs, what my ideas were about limited editions and holding back prints and marketing and doing ad copy and, well, just a whole bunch of things."

"Ben, this is great! I can't believe it. You're going to get a lot of attention from this, aren't you?"

"Well, I think so. Oh, and Marcus told me that he actually sold two of my pieces tonight. One to some rich guy who just moved into a big brand new place out in Loudoun County and the second one to Mr. Ian Woon, who is, evidently, a local art collector. I've never heard of him, but Marcus has sold to him before."

Ben stood up and cleared away their dishes. "Let's have dessert and then we'll finish the wine."

Ben was in the kitchen making a lot of noise putting dishes in the sink, opening and closing drawers and all that.

"Are you sure I can't help?" she asked.

"I'm sure. Don't come in here," he said and she heard the unmistakable sound of whipped cream shooting out of an aerosol can.

He brought out the desserts and they were beautifully presented, just like at the restaurant. Well, except that he put more whipped cream on it than they did. He always joked that they didn't put enough on it.

He put the desserts down and went back into the kitchen.

"There's more?" she asked.

"Just this..." he brought out a bottle of champagne and two flutes. "It's time to celebrate!"

He opened the champagne and poured two glasses.

"To a grand success!" she toasted.

"Cheers!" he replied.

They clinked glasses and drank. And then they dove into the chocolate desserts. They both had a sweet tooth and both loved chocolate, so this part of dinner was filled with quiet enjoyment and lots of "mmm." and "wow" and "yum" and looking at each other and grinning like little children.

After they were finished, he suggested that they leave the dishes on the table and move to the couch to drink more champagne.

They sat on the couch, which he had positioned to have a full view out the large windows.

"So, I haven't told you the biggest news yet."

"Really?" Catherine looked at him. "There's more?"

"Delores wants me to come to LA and work with her. She told me to think about it."

Catherine just sat and stared at him. She knew she should be happy but all she could think at this moment was "Oh, no!" At least she didn't blurt it out. She tried to smile but felt herself tearing up.

"Oh, baby, don't cry. It's a really good thing." He looked earnestly at into her eyes. "I want you to come with me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black velvet box. "Catherine, I want you to come with me. I love you so very much. So very, very much."

Catherine did start to cry. She couldn't help herself as she saw him get up off the couch and go down on one knee.

"Catherine Louise Evans, will you marry me?"

Catherine looked at Ben down on one knee, and looked at the opened velvet box and the beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. She felt a flood of thoughts and emotions all at once. She felt the urge to say yes, the urge to say no, the urge to jump up from the couch and run from the apartment. Images of the two of them together flashed through her mind, their meeting, their good times, their intense sex. But right on top of those were the worries of artist versus practical girl, their parents, their friends, all that discomfort that Catherine had been feeling. And now moving to LA? She continued to cry and didn't speak.

Ben just stayed down there holding the ring. She couldn't let him stay there like that. She watched the intensely happy expression on his face change to one of questioning and worry.

She leaned down and kissed him and took the box from him. He got back up and sat down on the couch. She still had not spoken. What could she say? "Maybe" didn't seem like a good response but it was exactly what she felt.

"Oh, Ben. I'm so surprised, I don't know what to say."

"Well, I was hoping you'd say 'yes'."

"Oh, Ben," she sobbed. He put his arms around her and held her. "I love you so much," she sobbed into his shoulder. He didn't speak and she continued to cry. She must have cried for fifteen minutes, thoughts racing, and he just held her.

Her tears were gone, her sobs were dry and intermittent and then finally quiet. She pulled herself back up out of his arms, not wanting to look at him.

He gently took her chin in his hands and tilted her head up to look at him. He kissed her lightly on the mouth and said, "I know, it is so much to think about. So let's do just that. Let's think about it. I don't need an answer from you tonight. We'll think about it. Just know that I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. Wherever that is, whatever that means. That's what I want. I hope you want that, too."

"Thank you," she said quietly. Her throat was sore, her nose completely clogged from crying. "I love you."

He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. She made a little protest saying that she thought it might be better if she went home, but he just pulled her, gently, but insistently into the bedroom. They didn't make love, but just held each other until they went to sleep.

She dreamed vividly early the next morning. Her dream was that her phone was ringing and that it was work calling her in LA to ask where she was and why she wasn't coming into the office. As she struggled to wake up, she realized that her phone was ringing and that it was still dark outside. She sat up and wondered where her phone was. It stopped ringing as she realized that it was probably in her purse out in the hallway where she had dropped it when she entered the apartment with her eyes closed.

It started ringing again. "S***," she said as she sat up in the bed.

"What?" Ben said groggily.

"My phone is ringing and it's out there in the other room."

"What time is it? I didn't hear the alarm go off. Ben mumbled.

"Jesus! It's 4:30. Who the f*** would be calling me now?" Catherine was heading out the door of the bedroom when her cell phone stopped ringing again. Then Ben's land line rang.

Catherine felt her stomach drop. Someone was trying to find her and it was too early in the morning for it to be anything good. Work didn't have Ben's number...

She let Ben pick up his phone.

"Hello...yes...yes, she's here. Hang on." He held the phone out to her as she sat back down on the edge of the bed. "It's your mother."

Catherine looked into Ben's eyes. "S***!" she mouthed to him soundlessly and took the phone.

"Mom. What's wrong? Why are you calling so early."

The room was quiet as Catherine listened. It was a long story.

"Oh, my god."

More pausing.

"Oh, my god, Mom! I can't believe it."

More pausing.

"Of course...yes...OK...I'm on my way."

She handed the phone back to Ben. He held it without hanging it up and asked, "What is it? What happened?"

"It's Daddy. He's dead." And she started to cry again.