Rose Blossom - By Renee Travis Page 0,4

give me, but please, please can I go?"

My father looked at me intently for a few seconds before his lips quirked up a bit.

"I did have an inclination you would be asking me. I got a rather polite phone call from a young man asking to take my daughter to a dance at...what did he say? Seven thirty tonight."

My mouth fell open as I listened to him; Julian had called and asked my dad's permission?

"Well?" I asked, almost too afraid to hope.

"Well let me talk to your mother about it and we'll see," dad said. I squealed and jumped up, fear flit across my father's face and I stilled and took a deep breath.

"Sorry daddy," I muttered.

"Yes, well as long as you don’t do any of that tonight," his brow puckered like he was re-thinking his decision.

"No, of course not. Look I'm going to my room to do homework, come get me when you've talked to mama, OK?" I asked

"Wait! You got a call from grandma today, she said she got your last letter and would call tomorrow to talk to you." dad told me hurriedly.

"Really! I haven't talked to her all month!" I exclaimed. Grandma Lacey was my dad's adopted mother. He had come to her when he was three and she was the only 'relative' I knew on his side of the family. She was the coolest grandmother ever and we were really close. I hadn’t seen her in four years because of a fight she and mom had.

Grandma didn't like the way mom treated me and my illness. She wanted to try acupuncture, an herbalist, some holistic healing. My mother had called her a crackpot and said that until she got such foolishness out of her mind, grandma wasn't allowed in our home.

Dad and mom got in a pretty big fight that night, but like always dad gave in. I used to think my mother was a wonderful, special woman and dad was lucky she married him, now it's totally the other way around.

"Yes really, now go upstairs and do your homework." Dad winked and went back to the papers he'd been grading when I interrupted him.

I went up to my baby pink painted room (my mother's choice, as if you couldn't guess) and became engrossed, not in studying, but looking through my meager wardrobe for something that Julian might actually think I looked sexy in. About an hour into my (I wish) frantic clothing search, I heard my mother's voice, yelling at my father. Cringing I sank down to my pink ruffled day bed (another thing I hated in my room) holding the red tank top I'd finally decided on. I was doomed. There was no way she would let me out of the house that night.

I glanced at the alarm clock on one of my matching mahogany bookshelves, 5 p.m. hopefully they'd wrap up the screamfest before 6:30 so I could get in the shower. I sat there listening to the tones in my parents' voices until there was silence. I stood up slowly and sat down at the vanity that matched my shelves and stared at the gold antique mirror across from me, staring at my softly squared face, hoping that maybe, just once, my mother would think about what I wanted and not what she thought was best for me.

My eyes darted to my door as I heard the rapid knock, and before I could say "come in," the door opened. My mother stood on the threshold, her eyes just like mine; she was a bit taller than me and much thinner. She had shoulder-length light brown hair and was rather unremarkable in looks; you know, not plain, yet not pretty either.

"Rhodanthe," she began, "your father and I have talked and while I don’t really think a dance is a good idea," she said, worry underlying her tone, "he has convinced me that maybe keeping you locked up in this house isn't good for you...socially." I tried my best not to scream out the 'YIP' that was building in my throat.

I looked over her shoulder and saw my father standing just behind her, he gave me an exaggerated shoulder roll, and I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling.

"So, we shall let this....boy...take you to the dance tonight, but you have to be home by 11:30; no dancing, no caffeine, no jumping or screaming or too much sugar, or anything else that could make you...excited." Mom gave me an all-knowing look that