Family Tree - Part Two

Chapter Three

Heading Home

The last few weeks of school had flown by, thankfully. She completed all the assignments she'd missed while out, as well as stay on top of everything else that had been assigned. Strangely, she hadn't seen the creepy guy again after the library. Taking the last load down to her car, she hoped she'd seen the last of him, period. She'd practiced her conversation with gran about the issues she'd been having several times over the last few days. Unfortunately, with everything winding down so quickly, she and Juniper hadn't spent any more time together, and she'd never asked her about the calm she felt when Juniper was around.

Checking the room one last time, she gave the keys to the Resident Assistant and took the steps two at a time. The sun was out, and the air was blowing in from the east, bringing with it the scent of new blooms and longer days. She was looking forward to a couple of months off, even if it meant working with her gran most of the summer to figure out what was going on with her. If she was being honest, she was actually looking forward to it. Just one stop, to fully gas up, was all that stood between her and home. Running into the station while the pump ran, she grabbed a water bottle and a candy bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone standing at her car, but when she looked again; she didn't see anyone out there. Shaking her head, it would also be nice to get rid of some of this paranoia.

Turning the key and pulling out, she unrolled the window and turn up her radio. She loved driving, feeling the wind in her hair and pure power at her feet. It was a shock she didn't have a collection of traffic tickets, but she always rode the line when it came to the speed limit. Pushing it just enough, never more. In no time, she was out of town and headed toward Harmony Grove, and home. In the car by herself, she could let all her worries disappear. To her, this was the best form of meditation. She wondered if that would count when her gran was doing the scoring.

An hour later, she turned off the highway as she drank the last drops of her water. The house she shared with gran was on the far side of town, cradled between the hills and valleys that surrounded that side. The house looked regal on top of the hill, almost as if it protected the rest of the town. In the summer, you could just barely see the top floor over the trees that bloomed just below. Laurel had always felt like she lived in a treehouse of sorts. In the winter, with the snow in the background, the house was almost hidden from view. The smoke billowing from the chimney, and the candles in the windows always gave it away, though.

She eased her way through town, considering stopping at the gift store to see if gran was in town visiting, but she was ready to get home and decided to just keep driving. When she hit the bottom of the driveway, she swore she could smell whatever concoctions her gran was cooking up in the greenhouse, but knew that wasn't possible. Was it? She chuckled under her breath. She didn't need super smell to go along with her super emotions. Barely getting the car in park, her gran was in the drive, ready to greet her. Laurel got out, giving her a big hug and realizing just how much she'd missed her.

"I'm so glad you're home, Laurel-Lou. How are you feeling?"

She winced at the pet name her gran had for her, but didn't say anything. She knew it wasn't worth it, and besides, was it really that big of a deal? Opening up the trunk, she grabbed boxes and made a few trips up to her room. Telling gran she could handle it herself, she still insisted on carrying something. Giving in, Laurel told her she could grab the bag from the backseat, knowing it wasn't heavy. When she met her gran downstairs to grab the bag from her, she was shocked to her holding not only the bag, but a single rose as well.

"Where did you get that?"

Her gran smiled at her playfully. "I was going to ask you the same thing? Have you found someone special I don't know about?"

Laurel's brow furrowed. "Seriously gran, it's not mine. Trust me. I don't have the time or the energy to be making those types of connections." She laughed, before noticing the strange face her gran gave her.

"It was in the back seat, just laying on your bag."

Her heart skipped a bit, and not in a good way. Someone had been in her car. She thought back to the station, remembering seeing someone by her car. It made little sense? Maybe they'd picked the wrong car?

"Was there a note or anything? I promise you, it wasn't there when I packed up."

Her grandmother shook her head, now holding the rose with a tad bit more caution. "I can take it out to the greenhouse, use some sage on it. Let's not take it any further into the house."

Normally she would have rolled her eyes and said something snarky, but not with everything else that had been going on. She tried to shake it off. It had to be a case of mistaken car. Deciding not to put any more effort into it, she headed back upstairs to unpack. Laurel knew she still needed to talk with her gran, but in the house, she also knew she was safe from outside clutter. For the first time in maybe forever, she was thankful for the protection spells she knew gran kept on the house. Leaning over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, she said she would be back down in a bit, with lots of news to tell her. She watched as gran's eyes widened, knowing she probably already had some idea.

In her room, she drank in the subtle smells of herbal sachets and essential oils. Her gran had cleaned everything while she was gone, which included strengthening whatever good vibes she added to the room. She'd never been certain if it was just her pure love for her room, her safe place, or the additions from her gran that made her room feel like a warm hug. All she knew was in her space, she didn't feel like anything bad could touch her. It was a space filled with hope and complete peace. She felt the same way throughout the house, but it just seemed heightened in her room. Grabbing the first box and unpacking, she wondered again why she didn't visit more often.

A few hours later, Laurel drifted downstairs, following the scent of homemade bread and her favorite strawberry jam. Her gran had always known how to get her out of her room. She watched her glide across the kitchen space, humming a song as she created dinner. Laurel thought about how she described the scene and realized she was being accurate. Her grandmother didn't make dinner. That was too mundane. No, she created meals. She'd never seen her gran use a cookbook, at least not a regular one. And she'd certainly never seen her use measuring cups. In fact, she couldn't guarantee she even owned one. Looking up from the saucepan as she stirred, her face lit up when she noticed Laurel standing in the doorway.

"I thought I heard you coming down. Ready to eat?"

"It smells amazing. What are you cooking?"

"Only your favorites. Potato soup, fresh bread, and strawberry jam. I added in some special herbs to help you heal quicker. Your eyes aren't as bright as they should be."

In a normal household, that last comment would have been strange, but not here. Laurel found the comment didn't bother her as much as it once had. Maybe she was finally coming around to the benefits her gran could offer? She realized suddenly that her head had been clear of the nonsense that had cluttered it for the past few weeks, ever since getting in her car hours earlier. It was a long time coming, and more welcome than she'd imagined. Grabbing bowls from the cupboard, she decided to let her gran in on the craziness she'd endured since leaving the hospital while they ate.

"I placed the rose in a protective space and saged it. I am assuming you don't want it back, though. Especially if you truly don't know who it is from?"

"You are correct. I'm sure it was an innocent mistake. It just seems weird to keep it."

She nodded, gently blowing on the soup she'd scooped onto her spoon. Laurel could sense she was waiting for an announcement of some sort. She no longer wondered how her gran knew something was up. She just assumed it to be true and went with the flow.

"Something strange happened after they discharged me from the hospital. Well, there were a couple of strange things, actually." She surprised herself by adding in the second oddity. She hadn't planned on mentioning the creepy guy, yet there it was. Right out in the open... well, almost.

"I'm all ears. You know, strange is my specialty."

Laurel scooped up some soup with a chunk of bread. She considered her next words, but decided to just come out with it. There wasn't an issue on earth her gran couldn't assist with. She knew this, she just needed to get over her own angst about it.

"Well, first. Do you remember when you sent me the package of teas? Right before I went to the hospital?"

Her gran nodded as she continued.

"That day, I had this eerie sense that someone was watching me in my Criminal Psych class. It was intense. I thought it was just my paranoia, or being sick. But when I looked around the classroom, I noticed this guy. He wasn't just casually watching me, he was staring intently. And when I stared back, he didn't shift his gaze, didn't back off. He just met me fully with these beady, black eyes. I'd started to say something to him, but my backpack fell and I had to look away. When I looked up again, he was gone."

"That is strange. Had you noticed him before?"

"I don't think so. When I talked to Juniper later, she mentioned he was a teaching assistant, so it's possible he stayed near the back of the room, or even off to one side. You know me, I'm not the most social butterfly. There's also the possibility I saw him in every single session, but never really noticed him until that day."

Laurel half expected a lecture with that omission, but thankfully it didn't come. Her gran had warned her more than once that she needed to be more aware of her surroundings, to pick up on the little things the universe sent her way.

"After that day, I saw him a few more times, and I wonder if he might be the reason I never got my package."

Gran leaned in closer, moving her bowl to the side and resting her elbows on the table with her hands knotted under her chin. Her eyes had moved from curiosity to worry. Laurel wondered if she was making too big a deal of this, but now that she'd started, she needed to finish. She had this feeling that it was all way too much for her to handle on her own.

"The day they admitted me to the hospital, I stopped at the front desk first. I wanted to double check my package wasn't there. I'm quite certain I saw him standing in the back of the space. Which means he must have lived and worked in the same building as me. I can't say for absolute certainty it was him, but I had that same icky feeling. It was like I was drowning in thick, murky water. When you said the RA found the package, opened on my laptop. Well, I just had this feeling it was him."

"Did you tell anyone about this? I'm guessing no."

"I didn't, and when I told Juniper later, she mentioned I needed to say something if it ever happened again. But the semester ended, and I didn't see him again, or feel him."

"Did Juniper ever see him? You said she thought he was a teaching assistant."

"Yes, we were working on a project in the library. It was right after I started back to classes. She walked away, and I felt him again. The library is enormous. It was weird to me he could find me. Especially since I'd specifically picked that spot, so we were more hidden."

Her eyebrows raised when I mentioned this last part. "I take it that has to do with something else?"

Laurel scooped up some more soup, taking her time before answering. She didn't want to worry her gran too much. But she knew she would feel much better once this was all off her chest. This morning, before coming downstairs, she'd reminded herself she needed to be open to however her gran reacted. And to whatever "homework" she assigned. From everything she'd read, this wasn't just going to go away. No, it was something she needed to learn to deal with, and she only had a couple of months before she returned to school. Juniper couldn't be there to protect her through it all.

"It does. I've done some research. I think I might be an empath."

Eyes widened, a sly little smile curled at the corner of her grandmother's mouth. "I'm sorry. I thought you said you'd researched. And you think you might be an empath? Surely I misheard."

Leave it to gran to tease her about this. Feeling herself turn red, she deserved the teasing, and honestly, should have expected it.

"Yes. Apparently, I'm more like you than I might have anticipated."

"Oh, sweet child. You're exactly like me. You're just taking the scenic route. Tell me what's happening and we can work on it together."

Exhaling deeply, I explained the crush of emotions that overwhelmed me in groups of people, and the crazy sudden moods swings I'd been dealing with. She listened, nodding her head and asking a few questions here and there. She took a special interest in Juniper's apparent ability to muffle the chaos.

"I'm guessing you never mentioned this to her?"

"I was going to, that day in the library. But the creepy guy took center stage, and I forgot about it. I know it seemed like we were close when you met her in the hospital, but we only really started talking after they had discharged me, and even then it was about class and assignments. If we'd had more time, I could see myself opening up to her, I think."

"You will get a chance again, whether it's in school or out in the real world. Some people are just meant for us. And I think you and she have a unique connection."

Laurel shrugged her shoulders. Special connections and destined friendships would have to be something she tackled another day. For now, she had other things on her plate.

"I know from reading that I need to up my meditation game. You know, that's always been a tough one for me."

"It's only tough because you don't give yourself enough grace. Empath or not, you need to set a daily mediation practice. I think you're too concerned about blocking out the entire world when that's not what meditation is about. It's recognizing the world is invading and re-focusing on your breath despite that invasion. It's about being easy on yourself and curating your own kind of peace."

She took her gran's words into consideration, knowing she'd heard them before. But this time, they sank a little deeper. Gran was right, she would give up the minute an outside thought intruded, allowing the thought to break up her concentration.

"Laurel, did you hear me? You look like you're somewhere else."

"Sorry, yes. No. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

Hearing her gran sigh, she pushed a few stones across the table to her. "These can help you. I will let you look them up. It's better if you do your own research and formulate how you feel. Rather than me explaining it all."

"All of these? What do I do with them?"

"They can help you mediate for one. They will also protect you and your space. You can decide which one you have with you at all times. I would suggest black tourmaline, but that's up to you. Several of these are already in your room upstairs. It's why you feel at peace up there. So, these are extra ones for you. To use how you see fit."

"I'm guessing the black tourmaline is this black one. What are the others?"

"Amethyst, Lepidolite, and Rose Quartz. You can also wear jewelry with these crystals. It makes having them on you much easier."

"So crystals and meditation. These can help me get back to normal?"

Her gran clicked her tongue, shoulders shrugged. "I think you might want to consider this your new normal and learn how to make it work for you. Not against you. I can't push, though, you've certainly proven that. I have some clients to see tonight. Tomorrow we can start on a few exercises if you'd like?"

Feeling the weight of the crystals in her hand, she'd made a promise to be open-minded. It was easy to forget how intrusive the emotions of others were while she was sitting here in relative quiet.

"I would like that, thanks. And thanks for the soup and bread. I think I'll take some upstairs with me, and read up on these rocks.... err, crystals."

"Look at you! Learning already."

She gave her gran a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, promising to clean up the kitchen as well. As she watched her walk out to her greenhouse, she felt guilty for blocking her efforts to teach her all these things before. If she'd not been so stubborn, there's no telling what issues she could have overcome. Giggling to herself, she wondered if there was a concoction to banish the creepy guy from ogling her. Now that was something she would be completely open to.

Laurel washed up the pots and bowls from dinner. She added the leftovers to the fridge and carried her bowl and the crystals upstairs with her. She considered taking the whole loaf of bread, but opted to leave some on the counter in case her gran came in for a snack later. From the window, she took in the soft glow from the greenhouse. Lighting bugs were already out, dancing around the warmth of the space. As she heard her gran welcome in a visitor, she climbed the stairs to her room. Ready to start her studies.

Chapter Four

A Rose By Any Other Name

Laurel let out an audible sigh, stretching against the wall as the sun peeked through her window. She rolled to grab her phone off the nightstand, wondering what time it was. The house seemed eerily quiet. Her gran was both an early riser and a night owl. And she wasn't a quiet housemate. It was virtually impossible to go to bed early, or wake late when she was bustling around checking off the multitude of things on her to do list. Maybe she'd changed in the last month? She chuckled, knowing that was highly unlikely. It was more likely she'd woken early and met her best friend in town for an early morning breakfast. It was odd she hadn't mentioned it the night before, though. She normally let Laurel know when she planned to leave the house.

Her house slippers were under the bed, where she'd left them the last time she's been home. She grabbed them and put one foot in after the other. The slippers had been a gift from her gran several years ago. Laurel had been obsessed with owls for as long as she could remember, and the slippers were made to look like owls. Her gran had once told her the owl was probably her spirit animal. Another topic she'd ran from. Now that she was trying to learn more, she should probably research what in the world a spirit animal was.

Taking the steps carefully as she continued to yawn, she checked the front room. Strange. The deadbolt wasn't locked, which was something gran always did before going to bed? If she'd left for town, she would've gone out the back door by the screened-in porch. Meaning the front door should still have the deadbolt engaged. Shaking off the nagging feeling, she refused to let paranoia creep into her safe space. There was surely a reason for it.

She tore off a slice of bread and popped it in the stove to reheat quickly. Her gran was not one for convenience and had never owned a microwave. She still enjoyed cooking on the wood-burning stove, rather than the modern stove Laurel convinced her they needed when she'd gone through her chef stage. Flipping the bread on the other side, she reached into the fridge for the honey butter and jam. Once she'd lathered the bread thoroughly, she made her way out to the screened-in porch. Other than her own room, this was her favorite place in the house. When she'd turned twelve, her gran's best friend.... and her unofficial aunt had given her a hammock. She'd laid for hours on the porch in that hammock. Reading and watching her gran tend to the plants that covered every inch of the space. Plopping down in the center of the hammock now, she stretched back and closed her eyes for a minute while the bread cooled down.

When she sat up again, her eyes wandered out to the greenhouse. It was then that she realized the door was open, which was more than a little odd. Her gran would never leave the door open. She sat the plate down on the ground, but thought better of it when she noticed her gran's cat Henry watching her warily. Instead, she carried the plate with her off the porch and out into the morning sun. Halfway to the greenhouse, her anxiety kicked in as she noticed her gran's car in the drive. If she wasn't in town, where was she?

Laurel took the steps to the greenhouse quickly, stopping short right as she entered the space. The greenhouse was a disaster. Potted plants were knocked to the ground. Bags of soil had been dumped and her gran's treasured tools were strewn throughout the space. Her breath caught at the sight. Something was very wrong. Forcing herself to step further in, she passed one row of plants and then another. In the third row, almost at the back of the greenhouse, she dropped to her knees. There, laying amidst the soil and broken pots, was her grandmother.

Tears sprang up immediately as she nearly tripped trying to get to her. It was clear to Laurel that she had passed on, her skin had an odd grayish color to it and when she reached out to her, she was cold to the touch. She didn't want to leave her, but she'd left her phone up in her room. She looked around quickly, trying to find her gran's phone, but didn't see it. It was most likely in her apron pocket, but she didn't want to disturb the body. Shivering, she hated thinking of her gran that way.

Stumbling out of the greenhouse, she ran inside and up the stairs, wiping tears as she went. She dialed 911, explained the situation, and stayed on the line until someone arrived. Harmony Grove was a small little town, less than 1200 people. She knew the news of her gran's death would be all over by the time the stores opened up. While she waited, she called her aunt Mary, gran's best friend. She barely got the words out before she heard her grabbing keys and shutting her door behind her. Hanging up, Mary just lived down the lane and might beat the police there. Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Mary was in the drive with the police not far behind.

"You must be Laurel. I've heard your gran talk about you. I don't believe we've ever met. I'm Detective Hart."

Laurel shook his outstretched hand. Another man, who simply nodded her direction, accompanied him. Behind them, the ambulance pulled in. Driving it was a familiar face, and almost brought her to tears again. Charlie Trent had been her first crush. His younger sister, Vivian, was one of her only childhood friends. They still talked occasionally, but rarely. Vivian moved away for college, choosing to attend on the west coast. To her knowledge, she'd not been home since.

"Laurel, I'm so sorry. Your gran was simply the best."

"Thanks. I don't know what happened. She told me she had a few clients last night, but after I went upstairs, I didn't see or hear anything."

Laurel led them through the greenhouse, noting her aunts exhale when she saw the state of things. Her gran had always been so orderly. Neither of them had ever seen the greenhouse looking like this.

As if reading her mind. Detective Hart took in the scene. "I'll admit. I've not been up here in a while, but I don't remember the greenhouse ever looking this way. Did she mention someone breaking in? Because that's what it looks like to me."

Laurel responded, but the unnamed officer interrupted. "I don't think we can jump to conclusions. She was an older lady. She most likely had a heart attack, causing her to knock a few things over."

"Knock a few things over? This is more than a few things. And I don't know who you're calling older, but she was barely over sixty years old and in excellent condition."

Laurel squeezed her aunt's hand, thankful for her directness. The detective looked at both of them, then at Charlie.

"Charlie, let's get her out of here so these ladies can start cleaning up."

Laurel's hands form angry fists. She doesn't know this man, but she's absolutely certain she doesn't like him.

"Wait. You're not going to take pictures, look for clues? Anything? You're just fine with assuming there's no foul play? Do you know anything about my grandmother?"

"I know she's not the type to see an actual doctor, so if she had a heart condition, no one would actually know. I also know that for some reason, everyone else in this town thinks she walked on water, so I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her. So yes, I'm going with no foul play. If you'd like to put on your detective cap, feel free. But I have other things to do."

He started for the door, but turned around to add, "I'm sorry for your loss, ladies."

Furious, Laurel jutted out her chin and sputtered. "I will not say bad things about that horrible man in my gran's favorite place, but you rest assured, I am thinking them."

Charlie moved past her, clearly feeling bad. His partner had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. As they went to lift gran off the ground, Mary shouted for them to stop. Looking at Laurel, tears streamed down her face.

"We owe it to her to take some pictures. Maybe we can talk to the chief, see if he's willing to push an investigation. This just doesn't feel right."

Laurel nodded and grabbed her phone. Both of them took several minutes to document everything they could see. With Charlie's help, they made sure nothing was in her hands or pockets. They were nearly done when the grouchy detective hollered for Detective Hart.

"I'm sorry, ladies. I will give you everything I write up, and do my best to talk with the chief as well. Laurel, it was lovely to meet you. I'm sorry it was under these circumstances."

She thanked him and watched while they loaded her gran onto the stretcher. She and Mary held each other, silently sobbing as they carried her out of the greenhouse and into the ambulance. Charlie gave her his card and the number for the local funeral home. He let her know they would take her there unless told otherwise. She wasn't sure what steps needed to be taken to request an autopsy. And even if they granted one, it may very well show she died of a heart attack. In her mind, she could almost believe that theory, but it was what led up to the attack that bothered her. There was no way her 90 pound, five foot two-inch grandmother flailed around enough to cause this much destruction while also suffering a fatal heart attack. She just didn't buy the complete story.

Suddenly, she remembered the rose. Her gran only grew roses in the screened-in porch, not out here, so the rose that was left in the back of her car should still be out here. She'd told her she had it contained and saged. As she looked around, she didn't see it, though. Mary watched her, finally asking if she could help. After searching for another half hour, neither of them could find the flower.

She knew it meant something. She just didn't know what. And she was certain Detective Grouchy wouldn't care. In the house, she grabbed a notebook and sketched the scene as she'd found it this morning. She also jotted down notes, wanting to make sure she captured all the details. It would take some doing, but she vowed to find someone willing to listen to her.

A few days later, she'd cleaned up the greenhouse and looked through her gran's room. Both she and Mary had shared a dozen theories on one might have happened. The coroner was a friend of Mary's and her gran's and readily agreed to the autopsy. But as she'd suspected, they named a heart attack the reason for death. She could almost see the detective's smirk. Her gut told her there was more to it, though, and that she needed to be careful herself. Mary insisted on staying with her the first few nights. They talked about Laurel's stay in the hospital, her new gift, and the creepy guy.

"Laurel, I know you were hoping your gran could help with the empath stuff. You can't stop seeking answers. It will take some doing, but with her notebooks and all the things she's already taught you, I have to believe she's given you all the tools you need. You just don't know it yet."

With that, she'd returned home, and Laurel was by herself again. As she prepared for the funeral the next day, she thought about what Mary had said. There were rituals she knew her gran followed consistently, things like washing down the doors to the house with peppermint oil, and adding a bay leaf to her shoe when heading to town. Although she'd never completed any of the rituals herself, she'd seen them completed. She remembered her gran's notebooks as well, full of anecdotes. Searching through the house, she found them in an old cupboard on the screened-in porch. Her gran's handwriting brought tears to her eyes again. She spent the rest of the night hearing her gran's voice whispering in her ear as she read the passages.

Waking abruptly, swearing, she heard a noise. It took a minute to register where she was. She'd fallen asleep in the hammock on the porch. Listening longer, she'd almost convinced herself the noise had been in her dream. But then she heard what sounded like glass on concrete. Not glass breaking, but simply the chink of it meeting something hard. She moved through the home, silent as she could be, but didn't see or notice anything out of place. Laurel checked the time and groaned. It was only 3 am. Deciding to pick up the books tomorrow, she headed to bed. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she'd forgotten about the sound she'd heard.

What seemed like minutes later, it awoke again her, but this time there was no doubt what woke her. Someone was knocking on the side door. That meant it was someone close to her and gran, knowing they never used the front door. She grabbed her robe and took the steps two at a time, letting whoever it was know she was on her way. She swept open the door in a flourish, her eyes squinting with the sun.

"You're not dressed yet?"

Mary was standing on the steps, coffee in hand. Laurel gladly accepting the cup and moved away so Mary could come in. She took another look at Laurel and shook her head.

"I'm glad I stopped by early. It won't do for you to be late to the funeral."

Taking another gulp of coffee, Laurel gave her a thumbs up and headed back upstairs to shower. Fifteen minutes later, she was downstairs again and ready to go.

"You know, your mother was always late for everything. It used to drive your grandmother nuts."

The air in the room halted, and everything seemed to flow in slow motion. Laurel had forgotten Mary knew her mother. Shoot, she'd helped her gran raise her.

"I'm sorry, Laurel. It just popped out. I know that's not an easy topic."

Someone hit the play button again, and the world shook back to "normal" speed. Not willing to give energy to the topic today, Laurel shook her head.

"It's fine. Although someday we should compare notes. Today is not that day, though."

The two hugged and gathered what they needed for the service.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Someone must have left this on the front stoop. Probably just someone your gran helped along the way."

She reached over and grabbed the single rose in a glass vase she'd picked up from the front of the house, placing it on the table. Laurel jumped back as if it had bitten her.

"Get it out of the house."

Mary's eyes widen but she didn't question the response. She grabbed the vase and nearly threw it out the door.

"Laurel, what is going on?"

"Remember when gran died, I mentioned a rose. We couldn't find it."

"Yes? Oh, surely not. That couldn't be the same rose."

"Probably not, but it's exactly like it. It wasn't just any rose, Mary. It was peach, with hints of yellow. Just like this one."