Nandita To Nandini
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Max And Rosie Pt. 2 free porn video
When they entered the kitchen, Max touched Rosie's shoulder then bent over and kissed her forehead. She opened her eyes and look up at him.
“Tomorrow is our thirty-seventh anniversary, dear.” Max sat down on the chair next to her wheelchair and took her hand.
“That’s nice,” Rosie answered. “I think I should take a nap.”
Max glanced up at Robin and sighed at Rosie's response. Robin stood behind Rosie then turned the wheelchair around. “I’ll be right back. How about making a pot of coffee?”
While the water was boiling in the teakettle, Max put four scoops of coffee into the French Press then walked over and looked at all of the photos on the refrigerator door—snapshots of Leah when she was eight or nine sitting on his knee while he had his arm around Rosie. He moved closer to look at Rosie’s face, her big smile, the wire-rimmed glasses she started wearing instead of the horn-rimmed ones she wore in college. He knew the picture was taken when they were in their forties and her curly brown hair was long. She was wearing her old plaid flannel shirt, tan Bermuda shorts and the yellow bandana she wore over her hair when she gardened. The picture had been taken by their neighbor, Gordon, who often stopped by to kibitz with Max, but who he suspected had a secret crush on Rosie.
He looked at a photo of Rosie wearing a one-piece bathing suit and posing with her hand on her hips like she was in a beauty contest. He thought about the way they loved going to Long Beach Island for two weeks every summer and how she’d made a delicious dinner with the bluefish he caught that day.
The teakettle whistled and Max poured the steaming water into the glass pot just as Robin came back into the kitchen and reached for two mugs from the shelf over the counter. Her arm brushed his and the touch made him realize how he desired her and wished he didn't. Between feeling the memories the photos awoke and Robin's presence next to him and the thought of the woman he had loved for thirty-seven years slowly dying before his eyes, he was being yanked back and forth between the past and the present like in a game of tug of war. Why am I being faithful? Would it be cheating if she's no longer able to be my wife?This is nuts? I love Rosie but I love Robin too. I don't know what to do.
“She’s asleep,” Robin said and poured the coffee into their mugs. When they sat at the table, Max looked out at the bird feeder and then at the daffodils just beginning to bloom. They sat quietly and sipped their coffee in the late afternoon sunlight coming through the window. Max glanced up at the clock and noticed it was ten after four.
“This is when we used to have tea and toast with raspberry jam.”
Robin looked up at the clock and at Max. “That was then and this is now. Be in the present. I know how hard this is, but it's important to try to accept what is happening and make it as good as possible.”
Max smiled and nodded.
“I’ve been lonely. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”
“Well, I’m here and have been for over a year.”
“I know.”
“Funny how things happen. Sometimes I think it’s destiny, but then I think things like this just happen.” She took a sip of coffee. “There's no plan. No destiny.”
Max nodded. “Who could have known that Rosie would get Alzheimer’s and I would need someone to take care of her and you would show up?”
“Life happens.”
“Right, life happens…sometimes it’s horrible and sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s both. You never know.” Max shrugged his shoulders.
Robin picked up her mug and lifted it to Max as if offering a toast and he picked up his and tapped them together.
“To luck,” Robin said.
“I’ll drink to that.” Max took a sip and lowered his mug to the table then sat back in his chair. He looked at Robin then sighed. “Robin, I have to confess something.”
“What?”
“This is hard for me to say.”
“What? Tell me.”
“I'm very fond of you.” He wanted to say more but couldn't He knew he was falling in love with her and wanted to embrace her, kiss her, feel her body responding to his desire, but that was out of the question. How can I? Why can't I? I don't know what to do.
Robin smiled and looked down into her coffee. She gripped her mug with both hands then lifted it to her lips and sipped. “I'm fond of you too. You're pretty amazing. You really are.”
Max wanted to take Robin's hand and hold it but didn't.
Robin finished her coffee, stood up and went to the back door. Max knew she probably wanted to change the topic and shift the conversation. He did, too.
“I would like to plant some vegetables out there...a small garden. What do you think?”
“Really. That's interesting.”
“We had a big garden at Rainbow's End. My mom and dad grew all of our food and my sister Lark and I helped. Everyone there gardened and we shared the fruit from the orchard.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“I've missed gardening. I wonder if I'll ever go back there. All the houses are off the grid and everyone tries to live as self-sufficiently as possible. Our parents are all around your age, getting older and I know they would like us to keep it going.”
Max got up and stood next to Robin. He looked out at the backyard and saw the two peach trees Rosie and he had planted fifteen years earlier. The pink blossoms would be bursting to life soon and he remembered how the sight thrilled Rosie. He remembered filling up baskets with peaches and bringing them into the house then proudly looking at them sitting on the counter.
“How many people lived at Rainbow's End?” he asked, shaking away that memory.
“I don't know how many are there now, but, when I was growing up, there were three other families and we each had an acre of land and shared the orchard and common land and worked together on projects. We had a barn for the goats, but we all had a flock of chickens. My goat's name was Ruby. Molly still lives there with her family in the house she grew up in. Her parents, John and Mildred, started it when they gave this woman, Jenny an acre. She was their apprentice and she married Michael. They have a son, Tollie, who went to Harvard. I don't know what he's doing now.”
While Robin spoke, Max remembered the small vegetable garden Rosie had tended and the peach preserves she made. He remembered how proud she was of the tomatoes and peppers she grew and how she would say, “Everything in this salad came from the garden.” He saw the small area where she’d had the garden. It was now covered with weeds and the wire fence she made to keep the deer out was a shambles.
“Rosie had a garden out there. I bet we could get it back in shape.”
“Great. I didn't know she had a garden.”
“How could you? She doesn't remember it, and, until I looked out there, I didn't remember.”
Max closed his eyes and again tears swelled in him as he pictured Rosie on her knees with that yellow bandana and how much she loved her garden. He sighed and noticed Robin look up at him and smile when he wiped away the tears. Why is she looking at me like that?
“So, do you think you'll ever go back to Rainbow's End?” Max asked, snapping out of his reverie.
“I hope so. I want to, but right now I'm here taking care of Rosie...who knows what I'll do when I'm no longer her nurse.”
Max didn't say anything, but suddenly the thought of Robin not living in his house stunned him. She'll be gone when Rosie dies.
“It will feel strange when you're not here and the house will be empty except for me.”
“You'll be fine. I'm sure.” Robin smiled at him. “You'll be able to finish that novel you've been writing.”
“I guess. We'll see.”
“Well, tomorrow is your anniversary and in a few days we will resurrect Rosie's garden. What do you think?”
Max took another deep sigh and looked out the backyard, then at Robin. “I could use the exercise. I like the idea.”
While standing there, they heard a car park in the driveway and a door slam, then saw Leah carrying flowers. When she came into the kitchen, she kissed her father on the cheek. “These are for your anniversary, Dad. They're snapdragons. Mom's favorite.”
“Thank you, but Mom won't know what they are.”
“I know, but I wanted to buy them for her and you. I have to run. Ron and I are going to a movie, and I'm already behind schedule. I'll call tomorrow.”
At dinner that night, Robin fed Rosie the chicken soup she’d made. Max sat across from them, watching how Robin held the spoon in front of Rosie’s mouth as if she was feeding a child. “Open wide, this is good for you.”
He admired Robin’s patience, how she smiled every time Rosie sipped and swallowed the soup. When she finished, she wiped Rosie’s mouth with a napkin, and then went to the refrigerator and took out the vanilla ice cream and served it to her in the same green bowl she used every night. Max loved how Rosie licked her lips and closed her eyes as she savored the taste of the ice cream and the look of pleasure on her face sent a warm sensation through him.
“She really loves that ice cream,” Max said. “Let me feed it to her.”
Max took Robin’s seat and lifted the ice cream to Rosie’s lips. “You like this ice cream, don’t you, dear? Remember when we always went to Russell’s Ice Cream Parlor on Ridge Avenue after a movie?” He knew she had no idea what he was saying but hoped somehow his words registered. He also knew he was holding on to the tattered remnants of their life.
He turned to Robin sitting next to him. “That was a ritual—going for ice cream after the movies.”
“Nice,” Robin said, nodding and smiling.
After Rosie went to bed and the kitchen was cleaned up, Robin and Max sat in the living room. He read the latest issue of the New Yorker and Robin made a list of the vegetables they would grow and drew a little plan. She read him the list and Max nodded then said he would get the tools from the garage and prune the peach tree.
At breakfast the next morning, he saw that Robin had dressed Rosie in a white blouse with ruffles and a flowery long pink and blue skirt, one that she hadn’t worn in many years. She’d put lipstick on her and combed her hair so that it was smooth.
“Happy Anniversary,” Max said, kissing Rosie’s forehead and cheek. He lifted the vase of flowers. “Leah brought these here yesterday. They’re snapdragons. Aren’t they pretty? Leah knows how much you love snapdragons.”
Rosie looked at the flowers and at Max and then looked down at the skirt she was wearing.
“We’ve been married for thirty-seven years.” He looked at her hoping for some sign that she understood what he was saying. He moved the flowers closer to her nose. “Smell the flowers. Don’t they smell good?”
She continued looking at the flowers then up at Max and Robin watching her.
“Happy anniversary,” Robin said. “Would you like some oatmeal for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal?” Rosie repeated.
“I’m going to make oatmeal for you.”
Max poured her a mug of coffee and brought it to her. He put in a spoonful of honey and stirred it, then held it to her lips for her to sip.
Just then the phone rang and Max picked it up. “Happy anniversary. Let me talk to Mom.”
“It's Leah,” Max said, handing the phone to Rosie, who held it to her ear, listened, then handed it back to Max.
“I just wanted to wish you and Mom a happy anniversary. Give her a kiss for me.”
“I will. Thank you for the flowers.”
Max looked down at Rosie sitting next to him in the wheel chair and could see she had no idea what was going on, but she stared at the flowers and had a slight smile on her lips.
When he hung up, he leaned over and kissed Rosie. “That’s a kiss from Leah.”
Rosie's smile broadened. It was the first time she had smiled like that in a long time. He looked up at Robin.
“She smiled.”
“I saw. That’s nice...sweet.”
She poured the oatmeal into a bowl, brought it to the table and fed Rosie.
Two days later, Max pruned the peach trees and Robin started turning over the soil in the garden, digging up the weeds and placing them in an old compost pile she found in the corner of the yard.
“We'll start composting the garbage.”
Each day, while Rosie slept, Robin and Max worked in the garden and it felt good to be outside and feel the warm sun. Max had fixed the wire fence and mowed the grass. Within a few weeks, the lettuce and spinach came up and they transplanted the tomatoes and pepper plants they bought at Chapman's Garden Center.
As the weeks became months, Rosie continued to fade away, hardly eating, sleeping most of the day, going to the bathroom in the potty on her bed. She was disappearing more and more from his life as his feelings for Robin grew stronger.
When Robin gardened, she often wore a faded blue baseball cap and her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, and Max would stop what he was doing and watch her. He loved how vigorously she worked, how she looked in the tight cutoffs or jeans. She would look up and see him leaning on the shovel or rake, looking at her and she'd say, “Hey, dreamer. Get to work.” He loved how she came into the kitchen with dirt on her cheek and gulped down glasses of water.
At night, while Rosie slept in the hospital bed they had rented, Max slept in the bed they once shared and thought about Robin and how much he loved her and wished he could make love to her. He was torn between his desire for her and wondered how crazy it was that he was still being faithful to Rosie when she didn't know who he was. They were married, but it no longer felt like a marriage. He felt guilty for thinking about her death and how relieved he would be. He wondered if he loved her or the memory of her, and it became more and more painful to see her look at him with a blank look in her eyes. Sometimes he stood by the bed while Robin adjusted it and he felt her energy, her caring for Rosie and it made him love her even more. I wish I had the guts to just go into her room at night and make love to her.
He knew it wouldn't be long before Rosie would die. He didn't know how long, but knew it was inevitable that he would no longer need a nurse and Robin would leave. The thought confused and disturbed him. It also filled him with guilt and dread. I don't know what I'll do when she leaves.
He cherished how they sat together after dinner and talked about this and that, but mostly they talked about the garden and how Rosie was that day. Robin enjoyed cooking for Max and they were having salads from the garden most nights. Often, Max helped by slicing the onions and Robin would see the burning tears in his eyes and would laugh and say, “Thanks for slicing the onions.”
Sometimes they would go out on the patio and look up at the full moon and Max would think about how he and Rosie loved to sit out on the patio on summer nights and look at the moon and the fireflies and listen to the crickets.
“Rosie and I used to sit out here like this, night after night.”
Robin smiled and nodded. “That must have been nice. It’s beautiful here.”
Many nights, Max and Robin watched movies on the couch. They sat close to each other and shared popcorn, then they both checked in on Rosie. Max still kissed Rosie’s forehead every night and said goodnight before he turned off her lamp. Robin watched and smiled, then they would go back to the living room or kitchen and talk until it was time to go to bed. Max would say goodnight and watch her walk down the hall to her room and wished he had the nerve to go with her, or that Robin would just take his hand and lead him there.
Leah came over a few nights a week to see Rosie and talk to Robin. They had become good friends. Often the three of them sat in the kitchen and had coffee or tea and Max could tell that Leah knew how close he and Robin had become. She admired the garden and told them she could see how proud of it they were and she seemed to note how animated their conversation was when they talked about it. She could probably tell by the way they laughed and looked at each other that something special had grown between them that was different than it was months ago, but she never said anything.
After a while, Max would excuse himself and go into the living room to read and let them talk to each other. Sometimes he could hear their conversation. Mostly Leah talked about her relationship with her boyfriend, Ron and how she knew she didn’t want to marry him and wondered whether they should break up.
One night, several weeks after a hospice worker started coming, he heard Leah say something that startled him.
“My mom’s going to die soon. What’s going to happen with you and my dad?”
“What are you saying?” Robin asked.
“I don't know. You two seem so close.”
Max put down his magazine and listened.
“I don't know what's going to happen. I'll probably try to find another job.”
“It's weird, but I think my dad is in love with you.”
Robin didn't respond.
I don't believe she said that.
After a few seconds, he heard Robin say, “He's a very special person. It's remarkable what a wonderful man he is and how devoted he has been to your mom.”
“This has been such an ordeal for him,” Leah said. “I think he's going to be completely lost when she dies.”
“He'll be fine. It will be hard at first, but he's a strong man. He'll probably go back to teaching or work on his novel.”
“Want to hear something weird?” Leah asked, then chuckled. “I had the thought that if you two got married, I'd be your daughter-in-law and you'd be my stepmother.”
“That would be weird, but what makes you think he'd want to marry me?”
“It was just a weird thought.” Leah laughed. “You and I are the same age.”
“I know. It's funny, I think I would miss him. It might be hard for me, too.”
When Max heard that, he suddenly thought that she might have feelings for him that he was not aware of. It thrilled him. It also frightened him.
* *
Rosie died on a Sunday morning a month later. It had been clear the end was near. Max had sat with her the last few nights and was with her all Saturday night, aware that she was hardly breathing. Robin administered morphine to eliminate the pain and relax her. Max held her hand and kissed her forehead. Robin let them be alone, only coming in from time to time to see how he was.
Hospice took care of everything and when she was taken from the house, Max stood at the door and watched them drive away. He was sobbing. Robin and Leah stood in back of him.
Friends called. Max and Rosie were not religious and he did not sit Shiva, as was the Jewish custom, but people stopped by and brought food. They all shared memories of Rosie and there was a lot of laughter as people remembered how funny she was and how she remembered their birthdays and always called, how she helped on some of the plays that Leah was in when she was in school. They remembered her carrot cake and stuffed mushrooms.
Robin had already started packing and Max's awareness that she would be leaving brought even more pangs of sadness. He would look out at the garden and the drooping sunflowers that bordered it. The hospital bed in his room was now gone. Hospice had it removed two days after Rosie died. When he sat on the edge of his bed, he could hear Robin in her room humming while she worked. He sighed and walked down to her room to see if she wanted any help, though he knew that was silly. How could he help?
When he stood in the doorway, he noticed she was wearing the same black yoga pants she’d worn the day she arrived over a year ago and liked how they strained at her ass. There were still some clothes in the closet. The lemon-colored bureau had the drawers open and he could see they still had her T-shirts and underwear in them. He noticed the small wooden box where she kept her bracelets had not been touched. She had brought in the boxes from the garage and one of them was filled with her art supplies, but the other was empty and her brushes were still in the large mason jar where she kept them. Several canvases she had painted were still on the walls of her room, but two were leaning against the wall.
Max said, “I'll be right back.”
A few minutes later, he brought her the painting she had hung in the kitchen. It was a painting of the garden.
“Don't forget this one,” he said.
“That's for you. I want you to keep it.”
“Really? Thank you. I love this painting. I like the way you included the peach trees in the background.”
While Robin gathered her belongings, Max looked around the room that had once been Leah's and admired the way Robin had arranged things. He saw photographs of Robin’s parents on the wall near her bed and there was one when she was a little girl feeding the chickens. He remembered how he liked looking at it the few times he visited her room. He noticed that Robin was making small piles on the floor and on the bureau, but she was moving slowly and didn't seem her usual efficient self. She seemed distracted, confused.
“I hate packing,” she said and stood in the middle of the room holding the green tank top he liked.
Max was quiet and noticed she seemed upset and kept biting her lower lip and taking deep breaths. He didn't say anything and was surprised when she sat down on her bed and looked down at her lap and started to cry. She looked up at him in the doorway.
“Max. I don't want to leave.”
When he saw the tears, he was bewildered but also unable to move.
Suddenly, she came to him and put her arms around him. He immediately held her and felt the strength of her arms and her breasts against his chest and before he knew it, they were kissing. It was all so sudden, but Max's sadness suddenly became passion and all that he had been resisting swelled and became his embrace. His lips and the way he held her close too him said more than he could have ever expressed in words.
They pulled their mouths apart with a gasp for air. They gazed into each other's eyes, realizing they had crossed a threshold.
“I don't want to go,” she said through trembling lips.
“I want you to stay. Please stay.”
They kissed again, harder, more passionately and somehow stumbled to the bed and fell onto it. Their kissing became wilder as if unleashing unspoken feelings that had been building for months but could not be released while Rosie was still alive. Max lay between Robin's legs that were wrapped around him, pulling him against her pussy, and he wanted her like he had never wanted anything more. The last few years of Rosie's fading from his life and his growing desire for Robin had taken all of his strength to resist but now poured out of him in a torrent of passion.
When he rolled off her and pulled off his jeans and gray sweatshirt, Robin squirmed out of her yoga pants. She smiled up at Max while he reached for her white panties, pulled them down her legs then from her bare feet and tossed them over his shoulder. Realizing it had been at least two years since Robin had made love, he fell back into her arms and gently entered her, feeling her tightness but soon was thrusting deep into her warm wetness and loving the soft whimpering sounds she made as they made love for the first time. They kissed and he reveled in the feeling of their tongues and their bodies moving slowly at first then faster and harder until he felt her tensing, trembling and screaming, “Oh my God. Oh yes. Oh my God…oh, I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Her words filled Max with the urge to thrust harder and harder. His cock swelled and his legs stiffened. With her legs wrapped around him, her hands on his ass pulled him deeper into her and brought him to an overwhelming orgasm that erupted in gushes that filled her overflowing pussy and dripped onto her thighs. He writhed before collapsing on her, unable to budge as they both wallowed in the warm afterglow.
After a few moments, Max lifted his head and gazed into Robin's smiling eyes. No words were needed. He kissed her, then slid onto his back, gathered her into his arms and loved the smell of her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I'm happy,” she said softly.
“I am, too.”
“What do you think Leah will think,” Max asked.
“I'm not sure, but I think she will get used to it. She and I are the same age. It might be a little weird, but I think she already suspects there was something going on between us.”
Later that day, Robin put her clothes back in the closet and straightened up her room. Max hung the painting she had given him back in the kitchen. They couldn't keep their hands off each other and Max felt he had been reborn. Robin made a delicious chicken dinner and a Greek salad with feta and olives. Later that night after slow dancing in the living room to an old Tony Bennett record, Robin and Max made love again in the bed he had once shared with Rosie and they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Though it felt strange not having Rosie in the house and their routine changed dramatically, a month later, they had the urn with her ashes. Max placed it on the mantel of the fireplace in the living room. He knew what he wanted to do with her ashes but kept it a secret until April twelfth the following year, on what would have been their thirty-ninth anniversary. He called Leah to meet him at the pond where Rosie and he had always fed the ducks. He remembered how much she loved that spot. He asked Robin to drive his car so that he could hold the small but heavy pewter urn on his lap. With Leah on one side of Max and Robin on the other, they stood on the shore of the pond. After glancing at the ducks, Max opened the urn, reached in and lifted a handful of Rosie’s gray ashes. He closed his eyes, saw a kaleidoscope of memories flash, and thought how her vibrant life had come to this…dust in the palm of his hand. Leah and Robin reached in and held her ashes in the palms of their hands. Both Leah and Robin looked at Max, and then silently, each with their own thoughts of farewell, threw Rosie’s ashes onto the dark water.
“Tomorrow is our thirty-seventh anniversary, dear.” Max sat down on the chair next to her wheelchair and took her hand.
“That’s nice,” Rosie answered. “I think I should take a nap.”
Max glanced up at Robin and sighed at Rosie's response. Robin stood behind Rosie then turned the wheelchair around. “I’ll be right back. How about making a pot of coffee?”
While the water was boiling in the teakettle, Max put four scoops of coffee into the French Press then walked over and looked at all of the photos on the refrigerator door—snapshots of Leah when she was eight or nine sitting on his knee while he had his arm around Rosie. He moved closer to look at Rosie’s face, her big smile, the wire-rimmed glasses she started wearing instead of the horn-rimmed ones she wore in college. He knew the picture was taken when they were in their forties and her curly brown hair was long. She was wearing her old plaid flannel shirt, tan Bermuda shorts and the yellow bandana she wore over her hair when she gardened. The picture had been taken by their neighbor, Gordon, who often stopped by to kibitz with Max, but who he suspected had a secret crush on Rosie.
He looked at a photo of Rosie wearing a one-piece bathing suit and posing with her hand on her hips like she was in a beauty contest. He thought about the way they loved going to Long Beach Island for two weeks every summer and how she’d made a delicious dinner with the bluefish he caught that day.
The teakettle whistled and Max poured the steaming water into the glass pot just as Robin came back into the kitchen and reached for two mugs from the shelf over the counter. Her arm brushed his and the touch made him realize how he desired her and wished he didn't. Between feeling the memories the photos awoke and Robin's presence next to him and the thought of the woman he had loved for thirty-seven years slowly dying before his eyes, he was being yanked back and forth between the past and the present like in a game of tug of war. Why am I being faithful? Would it be cheating if she's no longer able to be my wife?This is nuts? I love Rosie but I love Robin too. I don't know what to do.
“She’s asleep,” Robin said and poured the coffee into their mugs. When they sat at the table, Max looked out at the bird feeder and then at the daffodils just beginning to bloom. They sat quietly and sipped their coffee in the late afternoon sunlight coming through the window. Max glanced up at the clock and noticed it was ten after four.
“This is when we used to have tea and toast with raspberry jam.”
Robin looked up at the clock and at Max. “That was then and this is now. Be in the present. I know how hard this is, but it's important to try to accept what is happening and make it as good as possible.”
Max smiled and nodded.
“I’ve been lonely. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”
“Well, I’m here and have been for over a year.”
“I know.”
“Funny how things happen. Sometimes I think it’s destiny, but then I think things like this just happen.” She took a sip of coffee. “There's no plan. No destiny.”
Max nodded. “Who could have known that Rosie would get Alzheimer’s and I would need someone to take care of her and you would show up?”
“Life happens.”
“Right, life happens…sometimes it’s horrible and sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s both. You never know.” Max shrugged his shoulders.
Robin picked up her mug and lifted it to Max as if offering a toast and he picked up his and tapped them together.
“To luck,” Robin said.
“I’ll drink to that.” Max took a sip and lowered his mug to the table then sat back in his chair. He looked at Robin then sighed. “Robin, I have to confess something.”
“What?”
“This is hard for me to say.”
“What? Tell me.”
“I'm very fond of you.” He wanted to say more but couldn't He knew he was falling in love with her and wanted to embrace her, kiss her, feel her body responding to his desire, but that was out of the question. How can I? Why can't I? I don't know what to do.
Robin smiled and looked down into her coffee. She gripped her mug with both hands then lifted it to her lips and sipped. “I'm fond of you too. You're pretty amazing. You really are.”
Max wanted to take Robin's hand and hold it but didn't.
Robin finished her coffee, stood up and went to the back door. Max knew she probably wanted to change the topic and shift the conversation. He did, too.
“I would like to plant some vegetables out there...a small garden. What do you think?”
“Really. That's interesting.”
“We had a big garden at Rainbow's End. My mom and dad grew all of our food and my sister Lark and I helped. Everyone there gardened and we shared the fruit from the orchard.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“I've missed gardening. I wonder if I'll ever go back there. All the houses are off the grid and everyone tries to live as self-sufficiently as possible. Our parents are all around your age, getting older and I know they would like us to keep it going.”
Max got up and stood next to Robin. He looked out at the backyard and saw the two peach trees Rosie and he had planted fifteen years earlier. The pink blossoms would be bursting to life soon and he remembered how the sight thrilled Rosie. He remembered filling up baskets with peaches and bringing them into the house then proudly looking at them sitting on the counter.
“How many people lived at Rainbow's End?” he asked, shaking away that memory.
“I don't know how many are there now, but, when I was growing up, there were three other families and we each had an acre of land and shared the orchard and common land and worked together on projects. We had a barn for the goats, but we all had a flock of chickens. My goat's name was Ruby. Molly still lives there with her family in the house she grew up in. Her parents, John and Mildred, started it when they gave this woman, Jenny an acre. She was their apprentice and she married Michael. They have a son, Tollie, who went to Harvard. I don't know what he's doing now.”
While Robin spoke, Max remembered the small vegetable garden Rosie had tended and the peach preserves she made. He remembered how proud she was of the tomatoes and peppers she grew and how she would say, “Everything in this salad came from the garden.” He saw the small area where she’d had the garden. It was now covered with weeds and the wire fence she made to keep the deer out was a shambles.
“Rosie had a garden out there. I bet we could get it back in shape.”
“Great. I didn't know she had a garden.”
“How could you? She doesn't remember it, and, until I looked out there, I didn't remember.”
Max closed his eyes and again tears swelled in him as he pictured Rosie on her knees with that yellow bandana and how much she loved her garden. He sighed and noticed Robin look up at him and smile when he wiped away the tears. Why is she looking at me like that?
“So, do you think you'll ever go back to Rainbow's End?” Max asked, snapping out of his reverie.
“I hope so. I want to, but right now I'm here taking care of Rosie...who knows what I'll do when I'm no longer her nurse.”
Max didn't say anything, but suddenly the thought of Robin not living in his house stunned him. She'll be gone when Rosie dies.
“It will feel strange when you're not here and the house will be empty except for me.”
“You'll be fine. I'm sure.” Robin smiled at him. “You'll be able to finish that novel you've been writing.”
“I guess. We'll see.”
“Well, tomorrow is your anniversary and in a few days we will resurrect Rosie's garden. What do you think?”
Max took another deep sigh and looked out the backyard, then at Robin. “I could use the exercise. I like the idea.”
While standing there, they heard a car park in the driveway and a door slam, then saw Leah carrying flowers. When she came into the kitchen, she kissed her father on the cheek. “These are for your anniversary, Dad. They're snapdragons. Mom's favorite.”
“Thank you, but Mom won't know what they are.”
“I know, but I wanted to buy them for her and you. I have to run. Ron and I are going to a movie, and I'm already behind schedule. I'll call tomorrow.”
At dinner that night, Robin fed Rosie the chicken soup she’d made. Max sat across from them, watching how Robin held the spoon in front of Rosie’s mouth as if she was feeding a child. “Open wide, this is good for you.”
He admired Robin’s patience, how she smiled every time Rosie sipped and swallowed the soup. When she finished, she wiped Rosie’s mouth with a napkin, and then went to the refrigerator and took out the vanilla ice cream and served it to her in the same green bowl she used every night. Max loved how Rosie licked her lips and closed her eyes as she savored the taste of the ice cream and the look of pleasure on her face sent a warm sensation through him.
“She really loves that ice cream,” Max said. “Let me feed it to her.”
Max took Robin’s seat and lifted the ice cream to Rosie’s lips. “You like this ice cream, don’t you, dear? Remember when we always went to Russell’s Ice Cream Parlor on Ridge Avenue after a movie?” He knew she had no idea what he was saying but hoped somehow his words registered. He also knew he was holding on to the tattered remnants of their life.
He turned to Robin sitting next to him. “That was a ritual—going for ice cream after the movies.”
“Nice,” Robin said, nodding and smiling.
After Rosie went to bed and the kitchen was cleaned up, Robin and Max sat in the living room. He read the latest issue of the New Yorker and Robin made a list of the vegetables they would grow and drew a little plan. She read him the list and Max nodded then said he would get the tools from the garage and prune the peach tree.
At breakfast the next morning, he saw that Robin had dressed Rosie in a white blouse with ruffles and a flowery long pink and blue skirt, one that she hadn’t worn in many years. She’d put lipstick on her and combed her hair so that it was smooth.
“Happy Anniversary,” Max said, kissing Rosie’s forehead and cheek. He lifted the vase of flowers. “Leah brought these here yesterday. They’re snapdragons. Aren’t they pretty? Leah knows how much you love snapdragons.”
Rosie looked at the flowers and at Max and then looked down at the skirt she was wearing.
“We’ve been married for thirty-seven years.” He looked at her hoping for some sign that she understood what he was saying. He moved the flowers closer to her nose. “Smell the flowers. Don’t they smell good?”
She continued looking at the flowers then up at Max and Robin watching her.
“Happy anniversary,” Robin said. “Would you like some oatmeal for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal?” Rosie repeated.
“I’m going to make oatmeal for you.”
Max poured her a mug of coffee and brought it to her. He put in a spoonful of honey and stirred it, then held it to her lips for her to sip.
Just then the phone rang and Max picked it up. “Happy anniversary. Let me talk to Mom.”
“It's Leah,” Max said, handing the phone to Rosie, who held it to her ear, listened, then handed it back to Max.
“I just wanted to wish you and Mom a happy anniversary. Give her a kiss for me.”
“I will. Thank you for the flowers.”
Max looked down at Rosie sitting next to him in the wheel chair and could see she had no idea what was going on, but she stared at the flowers and had a slight smile on her lips.
When he hung up, he leaned over and kissed Rosie. “That’s a kiss from Leah.”
Rosie's smile broadened. It was the first time she had smiled like that in a long time. He looked up at Robin.
“She smiled.”
“I saw. That’s nice...sweet.”
She poured the oatmeal into a bowl, brought it to the table and fed Rosie.
Two days later, Max pruned the peach trees and Robin started turning over the soil in the garden, digging up the weeds and placing them in an old compost pile she found in the corner of the yard.
“We'll start composting the garbage.”
Each day, while Rosie slept, Robin and Max worked in the garden and it felt good to be outside and feel the warm sun. Max had fixed the wire fence and mowed the grass. Within a few weeks, the lettuce and spinach came up and they transplanted the tomatoes and pepper plants they bought at Chapman's Garden Center.
As the weeks became months, Rosie continued to fade away, hardly eating, sleeping most of the day, going to the bathroom in the potty on her bed. She was disappearing more and more from his life as his feelings for Robin grew stronger.
When Robin gardened, she often wore a faded blue baseball cap and her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, and Max would stop what he was doing and watch her. He loved how vigorously she worked, how she looked in the tight cutoffs or jeans. She would look up and see him leaning on the shovel or rake, looking at her and she'd say, “Hey, dreamer. Get to work.” He loved how she came into the kitchen with dirt on her cheek and gulped down glasses of water.
At night, while Rosie slept in the hospital bed they had rented, Max slept in the bed they once shared and thought about Robin and how much he loved her and wished he could make love to her. He was torn between his desire for her and wondered how crazy it was that he was still being faithful to Rosie when she didn't know who he was. They were married, but it no longer felt like a marriage. He felt guilty for thinking about her death and how relieved he would be. He wondered if he loved her or the memory of her, and it became more and more painful to see her look at him with a blank look in her eyes. Sometimes he stood by the bed while Robin adjusted it and he felt her energy, her caring for Rosie and it made him love her even more. I wish I had the guts to just go into her room at night and make love to her.
He knew it wouldn't be long before Rosie would die. He didn't know how long, but knew it was inevitable that he would no longer need a nurse and Robin would leave. The thought confused and disturbed him. It also filled him with guilt and dread. I don't know what I'll do when she leaves.
He cherished how they sat together after dinner and talked about this and that, but mostly they talked about the garden and how Rosie was that day. Robin enjoyed cooking for Max and they were having salads from the garden most nights. Often, Max helped by slicing the onions and Robin would see the burning tears in his eyes and would laugh and say, “Thanks for slicing the onions.”
Sometimes they would go out on the patio and look up at the full moon and Max would think about how he and Rosie loved to sit out on the patio on summer nights and look at the moon and the fireflies and listen to the crickets.
“Rosie and I used to sit out here like this, night after night.”
Robin smiled and nodded. “That must have been nice. It’s beautiful here.”
Many nights, Max and Robin watched movies on the couch. They sat close to each other and shared popcorn, then they both checked in on Rosie. Max still kissed Rosie’s forehead every night and said goodnight before he turned off her lamp. Robin watched and smiled, then they would go back to the living room or kitchen and talk until it was time to go to bed. Max would say goodnight and watch her walk down the hall to her room and wished he had the nerve to go with her, or that Robin would just take his hand and lead him there.
Leah came over a few nights a week to see Rosie and talk to Robin. They had become good friends. Often the three of them sat in the kitchen and had coffee or tea and Max could tell that Leah knew how close he and Robin had become. She admired the garden and told them she could see how proud of it they were and she seemed to note how animated their conversation was when they talked about it. She could probably tell by the way they laughed and looked at each other that something special had grown between them that was different than it was months ago, but she never said anything.
After a while, Max would excuse himself and go into the living room to read and let them talk to each other. Sometimes he could hear their conversation. Mostly Leah talked about her relationship with her boyfriend, Ron and how she knew she didn’t want to marry him and wondered whether they should break up.
One night, several weeks after a hospice worker started coming, he heard Leah say something that startled him.
“My mom’s going to die soon. What’s going to happen with you and my dad?”
“What are you saying?” Robin asked.
“I don't know. You two seem so close.”
Max put down his magazine and listened.
“I don't know what's going to happen. I'll probably try to find another job.”
“It's weird, but I think my dad is in love with you.”
Robin didn't respond.
I don't believe she said that.
After a few seconds, he heard Robin say, “He's a very special person. It's remarkable what a wonderful man he is and how devoted he has been to your mom.”
“This has been such an ordeal for him,” Leah said. “I think he's going to be completely lost when she dies.”
“He'll be fine. It will be hard at first, but he's a strong man. He'll probably go back to teaching or work on his novel.”
“Want to hear something weird?” Leah asked, then chuckled. “I had the thought that if you two got married, I'd be your daughter-in-law and you'd be my stepmother.”
“That would be weird, but what makes you think he'd want to marry me?”
“It was just a weird thought.” Leah laughed. “You and I are the same age.”
“I know. It's funny, I think I would miss him. It might be hard for me, too.”
When Max heard that, he suddenly thought that she might have feelings for him that he was not aware of. It thrilled him. It also frightened him.
* *
Rosie died on a Sunday morning a month later. It had been clear the end was near. Max had sat with her the last few nights and was with her all Saturday night, aware that she was hardly breathing. Robin administered morphine to eliminate the pain and relax her. Max held her hand and kissed her forehead. Robin let them be alone, only coming in from time to time to see how he was.
Hospice took care of everything and when she was taken from the house, Max stood at the door and watched them drive away. He was sobbing. Robin and Leah stood in back of him.
Friends called. Max and Rosie were not religious and he did not sit Shiva, as was the Jewish custom, but people stopped by and brought food. They all shared memories of Rosie and there was a lot of laughter as people remembered how funny she was and how she remembered their birthdays and always called, how she helped on some of the plays that Leah was in when she was in school. They remembered her carrot cake and stuffed mushrooms.
Robin had already started packing and Max's awareness that she would be leaving brought even more pangs of sadness. He would look out at the garden and the drooping sunflowers that bordered it. The hospital bed in his room was now gone. Hospice had it removed two days after Rosie died. When he sat on the edge of his bed, he could hear Robin in her room humming while she worked. He sighed and walked down to her room to see if she wanted any help, though he knew that was silly. How could he help?
When he stood in the doorway, he noticed she was wearing the same black yoga pants she’d worn the day she arrived over a year ago and liked how they strained at her ass. There were still some clothes in the closet. The lemon-colored bureau had the drawers open and he could see they still had her T-shirts and underwear in them. He noticed the small wooden box where she kept her bracelets had not been touched. She had brought in the boxes from the garage and one of them was filled with her art supplies, but the other was empty and her brushes were still in the large mason jar where she kept them. Several canvases she had painted were still on the walls of her room, but two were leaning against the wall.
Max said, “I'll be right back.”
A few minutes later, he brought her the painting she had hung in the kitchen. It was a painting of the garden.
“Don't forget this one,” he said.
“That's for you. I want you to keep it.”
“Really? Thank you. I love this painting. I like the way you included the peach trees in the background.”
While Robin gathered her belongings, Max looked around the room that had once been Leah's and admired the way Robin had arranged things. He saw photographs of Robin’s parents on the wall near her bed and there was one when she was a little girl feeding the chickens. He remembered how he liked looking at it the few times he visited her room. He noticed that Robin was making small piles on the floor and on the bureau, but she was moving slowly and didn't seem her usual efficient self. She seemed distracted, confused.
“I hate packing,” she said and stood in the middle of the room holding the green tank top he liked.
Max was quiet and noticed she seemed upset and kept biting her lower lip and taking deep breaths. He didn't say anything and was surprised when she sat down on her bed and looked down at her lap and started to cry. She looked up at him in the doorway.
“Max. I don't want to leave.”
When he saw the tears, he was bewildered but also unable to move.
Suddenly, she came to him and put her arms around him. He immediately held her and felt the strength of her arms and her breasts against his chest and before he knew it, they were kissing. It was all so sudden, but Max's sadness suddenly became passion and all that he had been resisting swelled and became his embrace. His lips and the way he held her close too him said more than he could have ever expressed in words.
They pulled their mouths apart with a gasp for air. They gazed into each other's eyes, realizing they had crossed a threshold.
“I don't want to go,” she said through trembling lips.
“I want you to stay. Please stay.”
They kissed again, harder, more passionately and somehow stumbled to the bed and fell onto it. Their kissing became wilder as if unleashing unspoken feelings that had been building for months but could not be released while Rosie was still alive. Max lay between Robin's legs that were wrapped around him, pulling him against her pussy, and he wanted her like he had never wanted anything more. The last few years of Rosie's fading from his life and his growing desire for Robin had taken all of his strength to resist but now poured out of him in a torrent of passion.
When he rolled off her and pulled off his jeans and gray sweatshirt, Robin squirmed out of her yoga pants. She smiled up at Max while he reached for her white panties, pulled them down her legs then from her bare feet and tossed them over his shoulder. Realizing it had been at least two years since Robin had made love, he fell back into her arms and gently entered her, feeling her tightness but soon was thrusting deep into her warm wetness and loving the soft whimpering sounds she made as they made love for the first time. They kissed and he reveled in the feeling of their tongues and their bodies moving slowly at first then faster and harder until he felt her tensing, trembling and screaming, “Oh my God. Oh yes. Oh my God…oh, I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Her words filled Max with the urge to thrust harder and harder. His cock swelled and his legs stiffened. With her legs wrapped around him, her hands on his ass pulled him deeper into her and brought him to an overwhelming orgasm that erupted in gushes that filled her overflowing pussy and dripped onto her thighs. He writhed before collapsing on her, unable to budge as they both wallowed in the warm afterglow.
After a few moments, Max lifted his head and gazed into Robin's smiling eyes. No words were needed. He kissed her, then slid onto his back, gathered her into his arms and loved the smell of her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I'm happy,” she said softly.
“I am, too.”
“What do you think Leah will think,” Max asked.
“I'm not sure, but I think she will get used to it. She and I are the same age. It might be a little weird, but I think she already suspects there was something going on between us.”
Later that day, Robin put her clothes back in the closet and straightened up her room. Max hung the painting she had given him back in the kitchen. They couldn't keep their hands off each other and Max felt he had been reborn. Robin made a delicious chicken dinner and a Greek salad with feta and olives. Later that night after slow dancing in the living room to an old Tony Bennett record, Robin and Max made love again in the bed he had once shared with Rosie and they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Though it felt strange not having Rosie in the house and their routine changed dramatically, a month later, they had the urn with her ashes. Max placed it on the mantel of the fireplace in the living room. He knew what he wanted to do with her ashes but kept it a secret until April twelfth the following year, on what would have been their thirty-ninth anniversary. He called Leah to meet him at the pond where Rosie and he had always fed the ducks. He remembered how much she loved that spot. He asked Robin to drive his car so that he could hold the small but heavy pewter urn on his lap. With Leah on one side of Max and Robin on the other, they stood on the shore of the pond. After glancing at the ducks, Max opened the urn, reached in and lifted a handful of Rosie’s gray ashes. He closed his eyes, saw a kaleidoscope of memories flash, and thought how her vibrant life had come to this…dust in the palm of his hand. Leah and Robin reached in and held her ashes in the palms of their hands. Both Leah and Robin looked at Max, and then silently, each with their own thoughts of farewell, threw Rosie’s ashes onto the dark water.
Pansy
- 13.12.2021
- 15
- 0
- Category:
- Love Stories
