CATSKILL MEMORIES

August 2024

      Rose Marie Robineau, age 21 in 1971, was born in New York City, and had lived there her whole life. The family name may conjure up images of French aristocracy, but - as her father had said, many times! - if there was any French blood in their veins, it had been long watered down to the point at which it wouldn't show up in their genes. Also, the Robineau name was somewhat of an anachronism. Most of the family lines had long ago Anglicized it to Robinoe or Robinow, or even hidden it completely in Robb, Robbins, or Robinson.  It made it very hard to follow one's genealogy.

   As for the romantic, and possibly regal, "Rose Marie," that came from her mother's love for the 1936 movie of that name, about the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, still popular after 15 years. (There was a remake of the film in 1954, which kept the name alive. However, Rose Marie probably wouldn't have been named what she was if she'd been born those three years later, because Mrs. Robineau loved the original with Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald, but didn't care much for the later version with Howard Keel and Ann Blyth.)

   In truth, "Rose Marie" was kind of an anachronism, itself. She had been called Rose in school and in public - or occasionally, Marie - but in private, she was always Zelly. Nobody seemed to know how the nickname originated, but she had been Zelly to family and her closest friends for 21 years. She still was.

   Growing up in the 'fifties and 'sixties, Zelly had certainly seen significant changes in how women were perceived in American society.  She no longer had to consider getting married at 18, and starting to have babies at 19. It was acceptable to stay single for at least a few more years, and even have a full-time job (but probably not a "career"). The general expectation remained that she would eventually "settle down" and become the domestic helpmate of some up-and-coming young man with "high expectations."

   Actually, she wasn't opposed to that future life. Marriage and a family with the right man sounded pretty good. So far, she hadn't seen any sign of the "right man." Besides, she wanted a career - not necessarily full-time forever, but something more than just a job - something that she could say used some special talents of her very own. And besides that, she was sure - grammatically speaking - that "homemaking" was not a feminine noun. To "make a home," in her mind, required equal input from both wife and husband.

   The upshot of the above was that, at age 21, she was still living with her parents, but had a full-time job with a publishing company. She liked both arrangements - at least, for the time being - and had no immediate plans to change anything. Her only concern at the moment was what to do with the week-long paid vacation she was about to start. She was ready to get out of town for a while - New York City in July was often miserably hot and humid - but that was about as far as her planning had taken her. The obvious beginning was to drive up into the Catskills - fairly close, certainly very scenic, and while not "real mountains," most of the area was over 2,000 feet high, which provided some immediate relief from summer in the city. After that... well, she had no ideas.

   It had been a number of years since she had spent much time in the Catskills, but she was quite familiar with the area from her youth. Each year, her family would spend a week or two at one of the large family resorts that, in the 1950s and early 1960s, were common. The fanciest of these offered more diversion than a family could possibly wish for, or utilize: dining, dancing, card games, golf courses, nearby fishing for the adults; sports, games, contests, swimming, crafts, skits and music for the youth. Why go anywhere else?  

   Most of the facilities catered to the Jewish community; in fact, largely owed their existence to the fact that Jews were unwelcome in many dining and lodging areas in the city and in traditional recreation areas. Zelly had lived among New York Jews all her life - had heard them called Christ-killers, had heard all the suspicions about plots by Jews to take over the world monetary system, and had heard a lot of just plain hate speech about them. Early on, she had adopted her dad's stance about Jews, and about everybody else. Religion, politics, what a person looked like, where they came from - all were irrelevant to Dad. His only measure was whether the man, woman or child was a "good person" or a "bad person." The factors used by him to judge character were undefinable, but leaned heavily toward finding the "good," rather than identifying the "bad." In fact, Zelly couldn't think of more than a dozen or so people in her whole life that she knew her dad had put in his "bad" category. In her short life, she had found the same prevalence of "better" over "worse."

   Although most of the resorts catered to the Jewish population, they were far from exclusive. Zelly had read an article recently that claimed during the 'fifties' and early 'sixties' - the heyday of the resort period, and of Zelly's time there - about a quarter of the clientele were non-Jewish. Zelly certainly remembered a lot of variety among the guests.

   On that day in 1971, the particular resort where her family had always stayed proved easy to find, and didn't seem much different than she remembered. She parked the car by the m`ain lodge, and went in. She almost walked into Mr. Lutic, who had been the manager all the years she had come there. Apparently, he still was, looking imposing and efficient, even if he was in his 'seventies,'  or possibly even 'eighties.' He pardoned himself for the close call (actually, more her fault than his), and gave her a nice (but apparently automatic, hotel proprietor) smile.

   "Hello, Mr. Lutic. I'm sure you don't remember me, but..."

  Abel Lutic held up his hand, obviously a gesture for her to stop talking. He scrutinized her a moment longer. "For some unexplainable reason - considering you were only one of the forty million or so young people I have had contact with over the years - I do remember you." He looked up toward the ceiling. "Rose," he said, then seemed to be thinking. "Rose Marie." Another pause. "Rose Marie Robineau!" he finished, triumphantly.

   "Wow, I'm amazed," Zelly said, and she was.

   "So am I. I think I remember you because, although you were just as silly as all the other silly teenagers, there was something a little more mature about you - like maybe you already had some ideas about what it would be like to be an adult."

   She didn't know what to say about that, so it was okay with her that Mr. Lutic kept right on talking. "So, Rose Marie..." He paused for a moment. "Rose is right, but your family had another name for you - a curious nickname..."

   "Zelly."

   "Zelly. Yes, that's it. I always wondered... But I'm interrupting myself. How are you, your brother, and your parents? Is life going well with you all?"

   "Yes, we're all okay - a little older, but not much different. Mom and Dad are much the same as always, I think. David is away at college. He's halfway to a degree in business. I don't think he knows yet what he will do with it, but he's preparing. For the past year, I've been working for a book publishing company. I was hired as just a general typist and clerk, but they're letting me work with the editorial staff now, learning some of the trade. I like it a lot. How are things with you?"

   "My wife and I are doing well - getting old, obviously, but still in generally good health. The resort, as you can see, is still busy, and we are prospering. But the day of the family resort has passed by. We still entertain the adults, and our fun and games are still fun and games for the younger children. However, today's teens look for other entertainment, things we can't provide. Families are much more mobile these days, too, and there are lots of other things to do with one's spare time. We'll hang on for a while, but many of the old resorts have already closed their doors, or converted more to adult enclaves, and less to families.

   "Today, I am just a hotel keeper plagued with one of the many problems that don't even register on the great Wheel of Time, but that seem to be of vital importance today. The manager of our flower shop had a family emergency, had to leave without warning, and is unsure when - or if - she'll be back. We have two high school girls who are very good at making up bouquets once the orders have been placed, but I have no one to manage the shop. We still have a month and a half of our busiest season, and demand for flowers is always high this time of year. As I said, it isn't something to shake the world off its axis, but it's a problem for a lowly resort manager."

   "What will you do?"

   Mr. Lutic gave an expressive shrug. "What can I do? I have brought my predicament to the attention of the Great Jehovah, but he hasn't replied yet."

   Zelly had a sudden idea, but it seemed pretty unlikely. Still, if the Great Jehovah hadn't answered... "Mr. Lutic, I told you I am working for a book publisher. What I didn't tell you is that, for two years prior, I was working for a florist in the city. I got very good at the general paperwork, and did most of the order fulfilling, and the daily business accounting. I'm not very creative, but you have girls who are, and I suspect you have catalogs that show your standard bouquets for customers to pick from. I'm free through next weekend. Could you use me until you can find someone else?"

   Mr. Lutic gave her a long, appraising look. "But it's your vacation you would be giving up."

    "But I don't have any plans for my vacation, and I think the job would be fun for me, if it would be helpful for you."

   He looked at her a little longer, then glanced up into the sky. "Perhaps the Great Jehovah did hear this poor hotel manager, after all. Do you really want to do this, Rose?"

   "Yes, I think very much."

   The flower shop - which hadn't existed when her family used to vacation there - was in a building next to the main hotel. Mr. Lutic showed her the arrangement. "I will provide you a cabin, meals, and a paycheck - minimum wage, I think it has to be. Sorry."

   "The room and board will be lovely, but you don't need to pay me. I'm just helping out."

   "No, I have to pay all employees; the State requires it, even if you are just 'helping out.' Besides, you will earn it. Now, for details. We open up about 9:30, and close at 4:00. The girls come in about 11:00, and stay to closing. You may have a little problem the first day, if someone wants an order before noon. I think just tell them what the situation is, that you're sorry, but it can't be helped. I don't suppose you would feel comfortable making up bouquets, yourself?"

   "Well, I have done it, but I'd be pretty rusty, and quality would probably suffer. I think it would be wisest to just put customers off until the girls are available."

   "Okay. One thing we can do for future mornings is get the girls to make up a few of the more popular arrangements, and put them in the cooler overnight. Then, you could fill a few morning requests, perhaps. Do you have enough information to start?"

   "I can only think of one thing. I remember from my other shop that people sometimes asked for custom orders, not illustrated and priced in the catalog. What do we do about that?"

   "We can handle it. The girls are innovative. Just get as much detail from the customer as you can, and let the girls go to work. As for price, just charge the same price as for our more expensive catalog standards."

   They returned to the front desk, where Mr. Lutic arranged a cabin assignment and a meal ticket for her. She was on her own until 9:30 the next day. She moved her car down closer to her cabin, and freshened up a bit. She'd missed lunch, but had a few snacks, which she ate gratefully. It was still a couple of hours until dinner, and she thought about taking a nap. However, the air was fresh outside, the views were nice, and she decided to take a walk and look around.

   She sauntered back toward the hotel, taking her time, and just enjoying the feeling of freedom and well-being. When a certain vista opened up below her, she realized that she knew it well. The end of one of the golf course fairways peeked out through the trees, and there was a winding creek lined with large trees. She remembered the little bridge that crossed the creek at one point.

   "Nice view, isn't it?" said a voice beside her. She hadn't realized she'd stopped near a young man, who was obviously doing the same thing she was doing. "It hasn't changed a bit," he continued.

   "I've always liked it," she volunteered. "You obviously know it. Do you know about the deep swimming hole, hidden back there under the trees by the creek bend?"

   "Of course. I've spent many summer hours there." He paused, and turned to look at her. "My family used to come up here every summer for a week or two. It sounds like maybe yours did, too?"

   "We did, for seven or eight years, I guess. It's been about that long since I was up here the last time."

   "So, you're not here with your family?"

   "No, this is kind of accidental. I'm starting on a week's vacation, and I didn't really have any plans, so I just decided to get out of the worst heat and humidity, and think about what I want to do. Once I got up the hill, I just decided to take a look at the old vacation spot. What about you?"

   "Well, I'm sort of here with my family. My dad is usually pretty busy in the summer, and travels out of town a lot. My parents are good friends with Abel and Hilda Lutic, so my mother and sister - rather than roasting alone in town - come up here for extended periods in the summer, and help out Mr. Lutic with whatever he needs. I work in the city, and don't have a lot of time off, but I come up occasionally, and visit with them for a few days at a time. I just arrived this time, and will spend a night or two."

   Zelly turned to leave. "Well, it's nice you can do that, and it's nice to talk to a fellow alumnus. Have a good stay."

   "You, too," he said. They walked in different directions.

   Near the  main lodge, there was an outdoor area, with small tables and chairs set up for snacking and talking. As Zelly passed, two women called to her, and invited her to visit. Having no other destination until dinner, she sat down. She introduced herself, and was introduced to Clarise and her daughter, Eleanor. They were drinking iced tea, and a waitress took Zelly's order for the same.

   After what seemed to Zelly as a somewhat awkward pause, Clarise began. "Like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie."

   "Well, she can," Emily corrected, "But telling the truth is probably the best way to find out what we want to know."

   "That's true," her mother agreed. "So, we invited you to stop under slightly false pretenses. We were being friendly..."

   "But," Eleanor cut in. "We were also being nosy."

   Zelly was understandably confused. "I'm afraid you've lost me."

   "Sorry," said Clarise. "I guess I better just blurt it out. We saw you talking to my son, Charles. We didn't know he knew anybody up here."

   Zelly caught on. "As far as I know, he doesn't know anybody up here. We just happened to stop to enjoy the same view, and learned that we had both spent our vacations here in the distant past."

   Clarise looked disappointed. "So,  no planned meetings meant to look accidental? No secret romance that Charles has kept hidden from us?"

   "Nope, just two ships passing in the... Well, passing in the day, not night, but you get the idea."

   "Darn!" Clarise said to Eleanor. "I thought we were on to something good. Well, Rose, if it's like you say it is, we have no further use for you. You may finish your tea, but then go away."

   "Mother!"

   Zelly laughed out loud. "I'm not leaving! You dragged me into this, and now I want to know why you think you need to meddle in your son's affairs."

   "It's a family matter, and none of your business," said Clarise, but not convincingly.

   "Mother, you know we're going to tell her. If she wants to stoop to be a nosy, gossip-monger like us, we can't stop her. We can even encourage her. So Rose, here's the story.

   "My brother Charlie is obsessed with the opposite sex. No, Rose, I am not talking about what you are obviously thinking about. Charlie gets enchanted by a pretty face, a nice smile, a special voice - and he immediately wants to be linked to it. What I mean is that he wants to take quiet walks with the owner of the pretty face. He wants to sit and have long talks with the possessor of the interesting voice. When his imagination travels ahead, it sees weddings, and marriage, and kids, and home fires shared. I'm sure he knows what S-E-X is, but I doubt that it comes into his mind as a specific idea. Maybe girls would be more interested in him if he showed more interest in S-E-X, and less in domestic bliss. They may be more afraid of the artistic or intellectual aspects of togetherness than they are of rough-and-tumble romance.

   "What I'm trying to get across is that my brother is probably one of the nicest men in the world. That's the kind of pride that sisters are probably not supposed to feel for their brothers, but I do. The problem I see is that he's going to need to do a little changing to make himself more available to the female of the species, or he's going to have to find a very special, one-of-a-kind girl, meant especially for him."

   Zelly took in her words for a moment. "I think I see what you're getting at, Eleanor. I don't know Charlie but, from what you said, I think his path is probably going to be - or at least, should be - waiting for the one special girl."

   Zelly drank the last of her tea, and stood up. "Ladies, you have made my afternoon. Thank you. Now, I am going to go find some dinner."

   "Why don't you wait with us until Charlie gets here, and then we can eat together?"

   "I'd like to, honestly, but I didn't get any lunch, and I drove up from the city this morning. I'm starving, and just about to fall asleep on my feet. I'm going to be around a couple more days. Maybe tomorrow night?"

   As Zelly started to walk away, Clarice called after her. "You know, Rose, just because you and Charlie aren't having a secret affair doesn't mean that you couldn't start one."

   Zelly laughed, and waved over her shoulder.

  "Think about it, Rose!"

***

   The mountain air was lovely overnight, compared to whatever it was that they breathed in the city in summer, and Zelly woke refreshed and energized. She got over to breakfast as soon as the cafeteria opened, ate, and was out the door before hardly anyone else showed up.  She went back to her cabin for a while, then took a walk before getting to the flower shop at 9:30. She barely had her paperwork arranged before her first customer appeared.

   "Can I order a bouquet... Oh, it's you."

   She hadn't yet really paid attention to the arrival. "And it's you," she now replied. "It's Charles, right? I chatted with your mother and sister after I saw you. They told me your name. I don't think I told you mine. It's Rose." She held out her hand, which he took.

   He stared at her, and then shook his head. "I didn't expect to see you here."

   "Well, I didn't expect to be here until about an hour before we had our brief visit yesterday. As you recall, we talked about the olden days, not current events. To bring you up to date, I was visiting with Mr. Lutic while he was trying to figure out how to handle the flower shop while his usual manager was away, taking care of a family crisis of some kind. I told him I had worked in flower shops previously, I was free through this week, and I would be glad to fill in if he wanted me to. He did, and here I am."

   He smiled at her. "I'm really sorry, Rose. It sounds almost like I was accusing you of something. It just surprised me to see you." He stopped, again. "But, now that I think of it, it's quite a nice surprise."

   She smiled back. "That's okay. I was quite surprised to see you, too. Now, I assume you came in here to  order flowers for somebody?"

   "I did. Thanks for reminding me. I'd like to send some roses - to someone here, at the hotel. Do you have some standard selections?"

   "We do."  She got out their catalog, and showed him the roses. He selected a collection of small, lavender buds. She took down the details of who it was to be sent to. He filled out a card to accompany the bouquet.

   "We'll get that out as soon as the flower girls get here, in an hour or so. Thanks for the business."

   "Thank you. I hope to see you around, especially now that I know where you hang out."

   Charlie was barely out of sight when a woman rushed into the store. "Jean, was that my brother who just left..." She stopped. "Rose, what are you doing here? You and Charlie do have something going, don't you?"

   Zelly laughed. "No, Eleanor, we do not. You are making a giant leap to that conclusion."

   "I don't believe you. Why would you be here, and why would he be here with you?"

   "Okay, why am I here? You rushed in, thinking I would be Jean, but Jean had to take some emergency time off - which you probably knew, had you stopped to think."

   Eleanor looked at her. "Yes, I did."

   "Well, I am here because Mr. Lutic needed a temporary replacement for her, he found out that I had worked in flower shops before, and that I was available this week. He hired me on the spot. That happened just before I saw Charlie for the first time, and visited with you and your mother. We might have discussed the situation then, if we hadn't spent all our time talking about your brother's love life.

   "Now, why was he here? Why do people usually come to flower shops - perhaps to buy flowers for somebody?"

   "Not you?"

   "No, not me. Eleanor, I did not know your brother at all, before I had my brief chat with him yesterday afternoon. We don't know each other, which makes it hard for us to have something 'going on,' doesn't it?"

   "Okay, I believe you. So, who is he sending flowers to?"

   "Eleanor, I can't tell you that. Customer records are private." But Eleanor saw her looking down at the order, lying in plain sight on the counter. She quickly took a peek.

   "That's okay, Rose. I can read upside down. Maureen Jacobs," she read, before Zelly covered the paper with her hand.

   "You can't tell anybody you know that, Ellie!"

   "I won't. Well, maybe Mom... Oh, my gosh, did I say Maureen Jacobs? We have to tell somebody, Rose!"

   "Why? What do you mean?"

   "I mean you can't fill that order. Don't you know Maureen?"

   "You know I don't know anybody here, except Mr. Lutic and your family. Who is Maureen?"

   "Maureen is very married!"

   That stopped Zelly. "Doesn't Charlie know that?"

   "Apparently not, but that's not the worst of it. She is also very pregnant."

   "Well, I can understand not knowing if a person is married or not, but how can he not know she's pregnant?"

   "Maybe he's never seen her standing up. More likely, he just wouldn't notice yet. She's far enough along that you, I, or just about any other girl or woman would know, but for a lot of men, it probably isn't that obvious, yet. Anyway, we can't let that order get delivered. I better tell him." Eleanor started for the door.

   "Wait, Ellie! You're right, the order can't get sent, but it's going to be really embarrassing for Charlie if you just confront him with it."

   "Well, he's got to be told. Anyway, if he's that stupid, he deserves to be embarrassed."

   "No, he doesn't. You spent a long time telling me how nice he is, but also that he is sometimes clueless around women. Please don't tell him.  I won't send the order, but let me think about it for a bit, and see if I can find a nicer way to let him know."

   "He's got to be told."

   "I know, but please, Ellie, give me a little time."

   Eleanor relented. "Okay, but let me know what you're doing."

   "I will. I promise. Do you know if he'll be around, later. I may send somebody to ask him to come back to the shop."

   "He should be findable, but I can tell him to come back and see you."

   "No, I think it will be better for both of you if he doesn't know you're involved."

   "Okay, but I'm worried." She left the store, and Zelly began pondering what to do. Suddenly, Eleanor was rushing back into the shop. "I know you!" she blurted out.

   Zelly stared at her. "I know you, too. You left here 30 seconds ago. My name is Rose, and yours is Eleanor. Did your brain freeze?"

   Eleanor sat down heavily in the one chair in front of the counter. "You called me Ellie."

   "I did? I don't remember. I'm sorry if you don't like that nickname. It must have just slipped out."

   "That's not what I'm talking about. I'm Ellie, but you're not Rose."

   Zelly came around the counter, and stood next to her. "You're scaring me, Eleanor. Of course I'm Rose - Rose Marie Robineau."

   "Oh, I know that, but it's not who you really are. I'm Ellie, and you're..." She stopped and waited, apparently for Zelly to complete the sentence.

   "I'm sorry, Eleanor, I don't know what you want."

   "The Dauntless, Daring Duo! I'm Ellie,  and you're..."

   Zelly suddenly felt light-headed, and leaned back against the counter. "My god, is this really happening? We're Ellie and Zelly, the DDD?"

   "Yes, we are, my darling Zelly. When I heard you say 'Ellie,' it all just popped into my head."

   Zelly went back behind the counter, sat, and stared at the other woman across the room. "Now that I know who I'm looking at, I see you very clearly, but why couldn't I - couldn't we - see each other until now? It's only been -what, five or six years?"

   "Yeah, but those are years when a teenage girl changes a lot - her looks, her manner, her shape - especially her shape. Well, boys change, too, but their changes aren't so evident with clothes on."

   "Ellie!"

   "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

   "Ellie, you're terrible."

   "I'm just pointing out the obvious -- actually, the non-obvious. But to change the subject slightly, you have been protesting that there was nothing going on between Charlie and you. Yet, I remember a certain secret you told me, that I have kept to myself all these years. It has to do with a certain place and a certain..."

   "Kiss on the bridge," Zelly finished the sentence.

   "Exactly!"

   Zelly was lost in thought for a few moments. "It's hard to believe that you and I  didn't recognize one another but - considering the circumstances - how could I not know him, and how could he not know me? I mean, it was my first kiss with anybody - ever! - and I'm pretty sure it was the first for him, too. Measuring by world standards, it probably wasn't much of a kiss. Well, it probably wouldn't have rated as much of a kiss even compared to what I'm pretty sure was occurring regularly among the boys and girls at the resort..."

   Ellie interrupted. "From personal experience, I can confirm that there was  a whole lot of kissing going on among the boys and girls at the resort."

   "Ellie!"

   "What? It was just kissing. I considered it practical experience for later use. There was a lot of variety, too, so one could kind of get ideas about what techniques she liked the best."

   "Ellie, you're depraved. Actually, I don't think I believe you. How could you do all that kissing, when the DDD were hardly ever out of one another's sight?"

   "Well, as you were pointing out, Zelly dear, a kiss doesn't take very long."

   "Well, let it be registered that I am shocked by your revelation. Now, getting back to where I went off-track, the kiss that Charlie and I shared probably wasn't that noteworthy - I don't think it could have lasted more than a few seconds - but it was our first, and you'd think that would have meant enough to both of us that we would have remembered each other."

   "Maybe, but it has been quite a few years and, after you'd shared more kisses with him, and then with all the others since then, wouldn't the uniqueness of the first one get a little lost?"

   Zelly gave her an odd look. "There were no other kisses with Charlie. There were no kisses with any other boy while I was coming here.  There haven't been that many since. Maybe Charlie was a lot more active - but that's not the picture you've been painting of him. Anyway, if he has been, maybe he would forget me. But what about my kiss-impoverished life? How could I have forgotten him?

   "Well, we can talk more about Charlie and the DDD later. Right now, you need to get out of here so I can figure out what to do about Maureen. Remember, don't blab about any of this until we get the bouquet business fixed."

***

   Zelly did come up with a plan. She didn't know how good it was, but thought it had potential. Actually, she considered just letting the order go through, and letting Charlie suffer the consequence - she was a little mad at him not remembering her, after all they'd been through, together. (She had to disregard that she hadn't remembered him, either.) But she was a basically nice person, and knew she didn't really want him to be embarrassed. She called for one of the flower girls.

   "Gretchen, you know the Colbys, don't you?"

   "I know Eleanor. I guess I've talked to her mother."

   "Well, I need to talk to Eleanor's brother, Charles, about an order. He's probably with them, or they can get a message to him. Would you go over to the lodge, and leave word for him to come and see me just as soon as he can?"

   "Is this an order we're working on, Rose?"

   "No, it hasn't been scheduled, yet. I think he may want to modify it."

   "So, you don't want Becky to be working on it while I'm gone?"

   "No, let's just wait until I talk to him about it."

   Gretchen was accompanied by Charlie when she returned to the shop. "Thanks, Gretchen, I really appreciate it. I just gave Becky two new orders. I think she's working on one of them, already."

   When Gretchen had gone into the back room, Zelly motioned for Charlie to step outside with her. He looked puzzled, but complied without question.

   "Charlie, I'm really sorry and embarrassed," she began. "Yours was the first order I took, and I lost it. It's bad enough to lose any order, but to have it be yours makes me feel extra bad. Can we re-do it? I can get the girls on it immediately, so it won't be too delayed. Oh, I am really, really sorry!"

   He put his hand on her shoulder, briefly. "Hey, it's okay. First day on the job, under rather unusual circumstances. A minor mistake seems almost inevitable."

   "But was it minor? Is it still going to be okay?"

   "Sure, don't worry about it. Let's just go back inside, and start it over, again."

   Inside again, Zelly brought out her order pad. "I'm sorry to say I don't remember any of the details of your order. We had several come in soon after, and I'm just confused about your details. What did you want?"

   He showed her the lavender rose bouquet, and she started to write down the number, then stopped. "Charlie, do you know this girl well?" Charlie gave her a questioning look. "Oh, I'm only asking because I might be able to make some amends for my earlier blunder."

   "Well, no, I don't know her hardly at all. The main purpose of sending her flowers is to introduce myself, and let her know I'm interested in her."

   "Okay." Still, Zelly paused. "Charlie, do you know much about the language of flowers?"

   "Language of flowers? Like, different flowers are supposed to have special meanings - you send certain messages, if you give them?"

   "That's what I meant. Now, just about everybody knows that red roses shouldn't ever be sent to anyone who isn't a wife, fiancée, or very special friend. What a lot of women know, but probably not too many men do, is that all roses are usually reserved for pretty good friends. If you know the language, you don't give a woman roses after a first date, and usually not until a third. Now, most women love to get any bouquet under any circumstance, and since we know that many men won't know the difference, we women certainly won't turn up our noses at any rose at any time. Still, if a woman receives a bouquet of something that - in flower language terms - suggests the man has really put some thought into trying to please her, well..."

   Charlie looked at her. Clearly, he was thinking. "So, I shouldn't send her roses?"

  She have him an uncertain, apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I shouldn't have made this harder for you. Please ignore my meddling, and do what you wanted to do."

   "If I don't send roses, what would you suggest?"

   She hesitated. "Okay, I'll show you a possibility - a really good one, I think. But Charlie, I feel like I'm overstepping here. Please consider what I'm going to show you, but - in the end - I think I'm going to feel really bad if it seems like you're not doing what you really want to do."

   With that, she showed him a very colorful collection of bright red, orange, and gold African daisies. "I think these really light up a room, and really make you pay attention to them. They last quite a few days still looking very fresh and new. They're not romantic, as such, but I think they send a strong message that you think the recipient is a pretty dazzling character."

   "I think you're right," Charlie said. "Let's do those."

   "You're sure?"

   He laughed. "Now, don't try to talk me out of it."

   She smiled, and bent over her order form. But then she stopped, and seemed to be considering something.

   "Rose, you're scaring me. I can almost see the wheels turning in your brain. What are you thinking about?"

   She gave him an uncertain smile. "I've already interfered with you too much, I think."

   "Just spit it out, girl! What's on your mind?"

   "Well, I think you said that you were sending flowers as an invitation to go to dinner or coffee with you, or something like that?"

   "That's the idea."

   "Okay, this is the height of interfering busybody-ness but, if you sent me this pretty bouquet and a note that said 'let's meet for coffee,' I would like the flowers, but I would think that they came with a 'price tag'."

   "What do you mean by that?"

   "Well, it looks like you're saying you did something for me - the flowers - now, why don't I do something for you - a date? I might agree on those terms, but if I had a day or two to appreciate a lovely gift with no strings attached, I might be even more eager to go out with you."

   "You think that's how she would react?"

   She traded her uncertain smile for what she hoped was a winsome one. "Charlie, I don't know. I can only tell you how I'd view it."

   "So, if I don't ask for a date, what do I write on the card?"

   "Gee, I'm not sure.  What are you celebrating?"

   "What do you mean, celebrating?"

   "I mean, what got you interested in her? Was it the way she looked, or something she did, or something she reminded you of?"

   Charlie thought for a moment. "I guess what inspired me was seeing her last evening in the lounge. She was at the piano, and sang a pretty love song. I thought she looked like she was glowing as she sang. I couldn't get the vision out of my head."

   "Oh, that's kind of a natural, Charlie! You could just write something about how good her singing made you feel, and how happy she looked as she sang. Well, something like that would make it very personal, but not threateningly romantic. You know how she made you feel.

   "So, remind me of the woman's name. You said she's here at the resort, so we can just have the bouquet taken to the lodge, and they can deliver it to her room or cabin. Well, if you're sure you're ready, I'll get the girls going on the order, and you can sit here and compose your card."

   After Charlie left, thanking her rather profusely for her help - she hoped his thanks would be justified, later! - she read his card. It was nice, she thought - just right. However, imitating his writing as best she could manage, she added a line: "Congratulations on the baby!"

***

   Zelly purposely ate dinner early, so she could be gone before anything was likely to transpire about the bouquet. Clarice, Eleanor and Charlie were eating and talking when a man and a woman approached them. "Are you Charlie?"

   Charlie stood, and  acknowledged that he was indeed Charlie. "I'm Maureen," she said. "Well, obviously you know that. This is my husband, Bill."

   Charlie shook Bill's hand, hoping he didn't look as befuddled and bewildered as he felt.

   "We just wanted to thank you for the lovely flowers. It was quite a surprise, but a very nice one. And thank you so much for mentioning the baby. Not many people know we're pregnant, yet."

   "He heard about that from me," Eleanor explained. "I'm Eleanor, Charlie's sister. I was with some other ladies the other day, and we were just commenting on how lovely and glowing you looked. Charlie heard us talking, and thought that was a nice thing to celebrate with you. You do look radiant, Maureen. I hope to look and feel like that some day!"

   After a few more words, Maureen and Bill turned to leave. Eleanor excused herself, and followed after them. "Bill and Maureen, I hope you didn't think it strange, getting the flowers from Charlie. He does things like this pretty regularly. He says making somebody's day makes his day!"

   "Well, it was a definite surprise for us, but it's a really nice one."

   "I'm glad you think so. I know that's what he aims for. Also, in this case, I think the fact that he's spending quite a bit of time with the woman who's filling in at the flower shop may be involved. I suspect she helped him pick up something really nice for you."

   Back at their table, Charlie was still looking a little flummoxed. "What was that all about, Charlie?" Eleanor asked, innocently.

   "To  tell the truth, I'm not sure. I think I need to go see Rose, because I think she just saved my bacon. The question is, did she know she was doing it?"

   "Maybe you better go find out."

   As soon as Charlie was gone, Eleanor turned to her mother, clapped her hands, said "the DDD strikes, again. Go, Zelly!"

   "What are you on about, Eleanor?"

   "Mother dear, I have a story to tell you."

***

   Zelly responded to the knock at her door. "Charlie, I didn't expect you. Is everything okay?"

   She had him come in, and sit down. "I think I owe you a rather big debt of gratitude, Rose."

   "You mean my meddling didn't ruin everything?"

   He eyed her carefully. "I think your 'meddling,' as you call it, was actually a skillfully devised plan to keep me from becoming a very large fool. It worked. I only feel like a medium-sized fool."

   "Charlie, I don't know what you're talking about."

   "You know very well what I'm talking about. Will you please tell me how you worked it out?"

   She saw how sincere he was, and how concerned. "Okay."

   "Okay. So, you knew she was married?"

   "Yes."

   "You knew she was pregnant?"

   "Yes, but I didn't know either of those facts until after you'd been in to place your order."

   "So, you didn't carelessly lose my order. You just didn't want to fill it."

   "Correct. It seemed like it could be awfully embarrassing for both of you,  which I didn't want. But I didn't want to just confront you with the problems, and make you feel stupid. It took me all day to come up with what I finally offered you."

   "You spent all day trying to figure out how to keep me from looking stupid?"

   "Well, nobody wants to look foolish, do they?"

   "No, I guess not, but thank you for the effort. By the way, Maureen thanked me for my nice comments about their baby-in-progress. Funny that I couldn't remember writing about the baby, particularly since I didn't know she was pregnant."

   "Well, I may have added a few words to your note before I sealed the envelope."

   They smiled at one another. "Rose, would you like to go get a cup of coffee, or something?"

   "What I'd really like is to go for a walk, and maybe end up with coffee or cocoa a little later tonight. Would that work?"

   "Very well. Let's do that."

   Their walk was long enough, and slow enough, that they had pretty well covered everything they knew about both family histories. It wasn't very in-depth because, as far as they knew, neither family line had produced any budding genealogists.

   "I'm pretty skeptical about all these homemade family trees, anyway," Charlie had said. "If you put them all together, it seems like Charlemagne and a couple of British kings had almost as many descendants as Adam and Eve."

   "Don't forget George Washington," Zelly had added. "You know, the Father of our Country."

   "Rose, I think that refers to him being the first President of these United States."

   "Oh, I know, but I've heard people talk like he and Martha were also the other kind of parents."

   "Well, I've heard that George and Martha didn't have any children of their own."

   She had stopped, and looked at him. "Is that true?"

   He looked back at her. "I'm not absolutely sure, but I've heard something about that. Well, anyway, if he was both our father-figurehead, and also the other kind, he would have had a pretty busy life. You would wonder how he and Martha ever got out of bed."

   "Charlie!"

   Zelly had shared what she knew about her ancestry, which wasn't much - partly due to the various changes that had occurred with the family name. She knew that her paternal grandparents and great grandparents had lived all, or much of, their lives in New York City, and that both generations had been successful merchants. She didn't think she knew - or, at least, didn't remember, anything about the maternal side of the family tree, except that her mother's name was (a very non-French) Hamilton, and that she had been born in NYC, also.

   Although the Robineaus' family fortune had been much depleted by the 1938 stock market crash and following depression, they managed to send Zelly's father to college - the first person with higher education that anybody knew about in the entire family. It took much longer than usual, but with pursuing both work and education pretty much full-time, he was now an assistant professor of English literature at a local small college.

   Zelly didn't know how to describe what her mother did. In addition to being a very productive wife, mother, and "domestic slave" (as she sometimes put it), she seemed always involved in various community projects, or serving on various committees. Also, it seemed like being "a professor's wife" was a full job by itself.

   Charlie knew a little more about his own background. The Colbys were a venerable New England family. If they weren't actually on the "Mayflower," they were passengers on one of the other little ships that followed fairly closely in the wake of the famous one. At least three or four generations had been settled around Haverhill, Massachusetts, which almost guaranteed that many of his "relatives" were employed in the manufacturing of shoes.

   Charlie's father had grown up in Haverhill, and there had married Clarice Harris, from another old New England family. They had left Massachusetts for New York City in time for Eleanor and Charlie to be New York "natives." As Charlie had told Zelly that first day they talked, Charlie's dad traveled a lot. He was a civil engineer, and was involved in planning and developing a variety of business and governmental projects in all parts of the country.

   By the time they got to the lodge and coffee (for Charlie) and cocoa (Zelly's choice), they were discussing their own personal situations. Zelly's story to that point was pretty simple. She graduated from high school, worked two years at a flower shop, and was now employed at a book publishing establishment.

   It came as a surprise to Zelly that, after finishing high school in the city, Charlie had just finished up a four-year engineering degree at one of the local small colleges (not the one that Zelly's dad taught at). He had started work with his father's engineering firm, but hadn't any real future plans.

   "So," Zelly figured, "That makes you about 23 years old."

   "That's correct, but how did you figure it out?"

   "Simple. I suspect that you started college soon after you finished high school. Like me, you were probably 18 when you graduated. Add four years for college, and voila!"

   "A mathematician in our midst!"

   "Well, simple arithmetic, not so much algebra or geometry, and completely ignorant of anything higher. Does that qualify me as a mathematician?"

   "It's a start, anyway. So, you're in the book business at the moment. Any thoughts on what lies ahead, or what you'd like to lie ahead?"

   Zelly didn't have to think about her answer. "Looking longer term, I guess I'm a typical young American woman thinking about a nice life in a nice home with a nice man and a couple of nice children."

   "No pets?"

   She giggled. "Well, I hadn't got that far, yet. Now, in the shorter term, I don't want to be just a housewife... Oh, dear, scratch that! I don't believe there is such a thing as 'just a housewife.' Not only is it an honorable and necessary profession, I think it takes real skill and hard work to be a good one. What I really meant to say is that I'd like a family in which both husband and wife are co-homemakers - well, who are co-everything. I don't want a guy who just comes and goes - even if he is a good man, a good supporter, and hopefully a good lover. I want one who's a constant part of the family."

   "Does that mean a man who comes home every night?"

   "No, I don't think so. A lot of work requires travel, and I wouldn't begrudge that. I'm talking about keeping a balance between the various parts of our lives. If my husband was gone 50 percent of the time - even if he was faithful and a good bread winner, I would question whether we were really 'married'."

   "Wow. Okay. You said that was 'looking longer term.' What about shorter term?"

   "Okay. I'd really like some kind of career - not just a job, but something that I could really work at, and make some real contribution. I'd like to do it full-time for a while, then maybe have it be something that I could still be part of when we got to the more domestic part of life. I don't know yet what that career might be. I'm interested in book publishing, but it and flower arranging are really all I know about, so far.

   "So, how about you? What are you thinking about, both short and long term?"

   "I've given that some thought. I like what my dad does, and I'd like to get into something similar. My one complaint is all the travel. We've done all right with it as a family - I don't think I've suffered from it, - and Mom and Dad have worked out their lives this way, but I really think it's too much, even for a bachelor like me. When I have a family, I'm not going to want a schedule like that.

   "Also thinking ahead to that potential family, I think I'd like to raise our kids out of the city - maybe not far, just out into the suburbs, but not real inner city, like we were raised. I said it didn't hurt me any - and it probably didn't - but I picture me, wife and kids..."

   "And pets?"

   He laughed. "Yes, pets maybe. Anyway, I picture us all with a little clearer skies and a little green grass. That would still be okay - our public transportation is so good. It would mean a little more commute time, but not big blocks of away-time.

   "Really thinking ahead, I'd love to eventually be able to  work out of a smaller city  - where we could have a real house with a real yard - barbecues and birthdays on the lawn... Well, that sounds really good to me."

   "It sounds good to me, too.

    Soon,  they walked back to Zelly's cabin. "I have to go back to town tomorrow," said Charlie, "But I'd love to spend a little more time with you before I go."

   "I'd like that, too. I work until 4:00 o'clock, though. When do you have to leave?"

   He thought a moment. "It's only a little over two hours back to town, and it's light for so long, I could probably get home before dark, even if I stayed around here until dinner time. Why don't I meet you when you shut up the shop, and we can take a walk or something. We could meet Mom and Ellie for dinner, and I could leave after that."

   "Let's do that."

***

   Nothing particularly noteworthy happened at the flower shop the next day, and Charlie was waiting when Zelly closed up at 4:00. They walked back to Zelly's cabin, then took a long walk alongside one of the golf fairways. They crossed near the green, and walked back along the edge of the creek until they came to the bridge that could be seen from near Zelly's cabin. They went to the center, leaned on the rail, and looked at the water.

   They could see a few fish below them. "Rainbow trout," said Charlie. "I think the Game Commission still stocks the creek pretty regularly. It seems to be really good water for trout because any that aren't immediately caught sometimes grow pretty big."

   "I know. My dad used to come down here pretty regularly to fish. Well, not right here. A little bit farther downstream, but I know what you mean. He used to do pretty well, and we ate our share of Catskill trout."

    Zelly was looking down at the creek, but she was pretty sure he was now looking at her, not the fish. She kept her head down.

   "Rose," he started after a little delay, "I know we've only seen each other a couple of days, but I'm finding that I would really like to kiss you. Do you think it's been long enough?"

   She kept her head down, and looked at her watch. "Well, it's about 4:45..."

   "Rose!"

   She looked up at him, and grinned. "Sorry. What I think you were saying is that you would really like to kiss me, right now. Is that correct?"

   "You know it is."

   "Well, I think this is a good time and a very appropriate place so I say, yes, you may kiss me."

   He started to lean toward her. "But we do need to make one thing clear, first. Charlie, I come from a family that believes in always keeping the scales balanced. What I mean is, if you give me a present - in this case, a kiss - I should give something to you in return. A kiss seems appropriate. Do you concur."

   He laughed. "Rose, I have never heard of a fairer or more appropriate 'reciprocal trade agreement!'" He took her in his arms and kissed her. She was surprised at the blend of gentleness and firmness. She returned the favor in kind. It all lasted considerably longer than the few seconds of their first encounter. All in all, a very favorable sequel, she thought. Apparently, he liked it, too.

   They met Clarice and Eleanor, and had a congenial dinner together. Charlie was a little concerned about getting on his way, and left fairly quickly. Zelly felt a little disappointment that they hadn't shared a private farewell, but she decided that maybe they weren't ready for that, yet.

   When he was gone, Ellie turned her attention to Zelly. "I know you are not pregnant, but the glow you had when you and Charlie met us was a good imitation of that condition's effect. That leads me to the conclusion that something interesting happened between you and my brother. Am I correct?"

   "You are correct. We kissed, on the bridge."

   "The bridge? You mean the site of the original event?"

   "The very same, probably very close to the actual original spot."

   "How did the two compare?"

   "I don't think they are comparable. The first was fantastic because... well, because it was the first. This one was fantastic because it was fantastic. And it was long."

   "How long?"

   "It's funny, somehow I forgot to count, but I bet it was  close to a minute."

   "And the original was...?"

   "Maybe two seconds, possibly three."

   "So, a little different. So, you're on the bridge, at the original spot, and... And what? Did he give any indication that he remembered?"

   "I sure didn't see any sign that he did. I don't know. Our lip touching really wasn't that much of a kiss. He's kissed so many girls since then that it just doesn't register, anymore. Or maybe because he's a boy, it  was never as important to him as it was to me - even if it was his first time, too."

   "I think you're wrong on both those statements, Zelly."

***

     Saturday, Zelly had breakfast with Clarice and Eleanor, so they were somewhat surprised to see her again, just a couple of hours later.

   "I have come to say goodbye for now, dear ones," she said.

   "But it's only Saturday!" Ellie exclaimed. "You weren't going until tomorrow."

   "Well, Jean showed up, with family crisis taken care of, and ready to take back her duties. I am expendable, so I'm going home."

   "You're not 'expendable' to us," said Clarice. "Can't you stay and visit one more day?"

   "I could, but I think I'm ready to get back down the hill, and have a day with my parents before I start work, again. Don't worry, I don't intend to forget you. I have your address and phone number, and you have mine. I think we have quite a bit of catching up to do."

   They shared hugs, and Zelly turned to go. "What about Charlie?" Ellie called after her.

   Zelly turned back. "Apparently, he still doesn't remember me, but he likes me, and he knows how to get in touch with me. I have a sort of feeling that, even if the 'old' doesn't come back, there may be a 'new' in the making. Let's just let it play out, and see what happens."

   After she was gone, Clarice turned to Eleanor. "We're not going to just 'let it play out,' are we?"

   "Definitely not, Mother. Definitely not."

***

   "Charlie, this is quite a surprise, seeing you on a Saturday." Clarice was saying this only a couple of hours after Zelly had left them.

   "I know, Mom, but I wanted to see Rose before she left, so I drove back up."

   "Well, dear, I'm afraid you missed her. You probably passed her on the road, because she's on her way home."

   "But she was going to stay until Sunday."

   "Yes, but Jean came back sooner than expected, so there was no need for Rose to stick around."

   Charlie slumped down into a chair. "Darn! I really wanted to talk to her."

   Eleanor hadn't said anything up to that point. "Brother dear, I am beginning to think that you might have feelings for this girl. Perhaps you've figured out that she's rather special."

   "Well, that's an understatement. I can't get her out of my mind. It's only been a couple days, but she says something, or looks at me a certain way, and suddenly I feel like I've known her all my life."

   "Well, Charlie, in a way you have."

   Charlie looked confused.

***

   On Sunday, Zelly had told her parents quite a bit about her impromptu "vacation," including making a good tale out of the flowers for the pregnant woman. For some reason, she hadn't talked specifically about Ellie, Charlie, and the DDD. She knew her mom and dad would be very interested, but she felt reluctant to share, quite yet. Perhaps it was because she was still trying to sort out her own feelings about the reunion. Anyway, she kept that part of the story to herself.

   When she arrived home from work Monday evening, her mother excitedly informed her that someone had sent her flowers. Zelly removed the outer wrappings, to display a bouquet of beautiful lavender roses. She smiled.

   "Are you surprised, Zelly?"

   "Well, just a little bit, I guess. I'm very happy."

   "There's a card with it."

    Zelly opened the envelope, and read the message.

  "My darling Zelly, I know I'm violating "flower language" by sending you roses before a third date, but you know that I know what the roses mean, so maybe you'll forgive the faux pas. Anyway, if we think about a 'date' a little more liberally, I think maybe we have had three, at least. I think we should also consider another measure. A first kiss will always be a first kiss, and can't ever be forgotten or minimized. However, I thought the second kiss was pretty great, too. I'm thinking that a third one might be worth trying. What do you think? Love, Charlie."

   Zelly's mom had been reading the card over Zelly's shoulder. "Wow, that is quite something. This Charlie seems to know you pretty well. If that 'first kiss' comment refers to you and him, that must have occurred quite a while ago."

   "It did."

   "And this second kiss - more recent?"

   "Yep."

   "And this third kiss offer, do1 you intend to take him up on it?"

   "Definitely."

   "Zelly, this is all very mysterious and exciting. Who is Charlie?"

   Zelly smiled. "An old friend, Mom. A old and very dear friend.”


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