Growing UP

BLUE MIMOSA

 

Spring and Aunt Mollie arrived on the same day. I was not exactly prepared for either. Baltimore had barely peeked out of a late twelve inch snow storm. Gutters ran like rivers. Sewers overflowed. From our cantilevered patio, I saw a robin. Unless it was the wind, the poor thing was shivering. My whistle was dry as usual so I just stood still and talked to her. 'Redbreast, are you alone? Have you already made a nest in our ancient oak tree near the fence?' She chirped once and flew away.

 

Chunks of snow and ice fell from our roof, crashed loudly on the flagstone path. I had shoveled it clear yesterday and now could see a face, an old lady's face in the snow. She had a long nose that kept getting longer as she melted into a puddle. 'Go inside,' I told myself. The automatic coffee maker was ready for me. Being Sunday, Jeff and Bonnie were still fiddling around in their bedrooms. Jeff had downloaded what he calls music that, thank heaven, I could barely hear. Most likely Bonnie was submerged in books and magazines about plants, flowers, trees. At sixteen she had her future planned. She would be a horticulturist or open a garden shop that had flowers of all kinds all year long.

 

Jack and I were enveloped in our new home, completing the decor, concerned about too many overly tall trees to be trimmed or removed. Bonnie nagged if not to remove more than two or three of them. Make room and plant new ones so we could watch them grow, see our grandchildren pick cherries. I stopped arguing, left her alone with her books.

 

The doorbell rang simultaneously as somebody used the heavy brass doorknocker John I had toted around Morocco in that fly covered town of Fez. It cost us a lot of bucks and a whole bottle of liniment before it finally was put on our new front door. From the den window I saw an elderly woman holding a large cloth shopping bag in her right hand and her pocketbook, almost as heavy as our doorknocker in her left. 'Hey, let me in,' she called.' I answered, imagining she might be hard of hearing, I shouted, 'What do you want? I'm busy.' In a staccato voice, she replied, 'Let me in, Dummy.  'It's Aunt Mollie.' If I didn't faint then, I never would. 'Mollie? Aunt Mollie from NY?', 'Yes, did I ever live anywhere but NY? Let me in. My pocketbook is so full of stuff I'm leaning like the Tower of Pisa.' My lord, I thought she died five years ago.

 

I opened the door. Immediately she dropped her belongings right in the foyer. Then she grabbed me and almost squeezed me to death. I was totally dumbstruck, at a loss for words. When I thought of some, they came out rough and unpleasant. 'How did you know where we were? Why didn't you call?' With a little lump im her throat she chastised me for not keeping up with the family like Aunt Esther does. 'Esther knows everything and everybody. She can tell you in half a minute where Lincoln is buried.'

 

I took her coat and called Jeff and Bonnie down to meet their Aunt Mollie (really a great aunt but I didn't want to make waves.) 'Are you hungry, Aunt Mollie?,' I asked and she snapped back at me,' Ask a dumb question and you'll get a dumb answer. Sure, I'm hungry but don't fix anything for me. Give me a plate and fresh bread and if you want some,
you can have a chunk of this pig I slaughtered yesterday. 'Aunt Mollie, you brought all of this on the plane?' 'Sure,' she said, 'do you think I pedaled my bike this far? Aunt Esther told me you have four bedrooms in a beautiful new house. May I use one for two nights?' Was there any possible answer besides yes? 'Our pleasure, Aunt Mollie.'

 

At that she called Bonnie to see what she had brought for her. From her big bag she found a small plastic bag and handed it gently to her niece. 'Do you know what this is, Girl?' she asked. Bonnie studied it carefully and replied, 'I think it is a tiny, tiny mimosa sapling.' Aunt Mollie applauded. 'Right you are. Tomorrow it will be a bit warmer so you and I will plant it. While I waited for your mother to let me in, I saw the perfect spot for your present. Want a ham sandwich?'

 

Bonnie was up early, anxious to get started but had to wait for Aunt Mollie, who came to breakfast at ten with instructions for Bonnie. 'We'll need a small trowel, about two quarts of warm water, a support stick, apiece of sturdy cord and about 15 or 18 small, smooth stones. I'll dig the hole right in the middle of your front lawn. Oh, how beautiful the mimosa  will look this summer. Here, Bonnie, hold the stick steady and straight. Pour the water in slowly, let it soak in. Now the stones, evenly around the bottom. Brace your baby tree while I surround it with fresh potting soil, NY potting soil! Let it settle by itself. Done. Now, all you have to do is wait for it to bloom.'

 

Wednesday a cab pulled up to our house, honked and Aunt Mollie, with the load she was carrying now much lighter, hugged us all, especially Bonnie who is to be the custodian of her gift. As the cab started off, she opened the window, waved and called out in a still strong voice, 'Bonnie, it's a BLUE mimosa. Goodbye.'

 

By June the mimosa was an extraordinary five feet tall. Tiny blue buds began to open their faces to the sun on July 4th. The air smelled sweeter than yams baking. Right before school started, September 5, Jonah, our landscape man arrived to remove the millions of leaves clogging our rain spouts. It didn't take him long to climb down and get me out of the kitchen. 'Mrs. Gordon, have you looked up at your roof, your gutters lately?' I told him I hadn't,  looked up, blinked and could not believe my eyes. ' Jack, come quick.' He must have jumped over the candlestick because he was by my side in an instant. 'Look at our rain spouts!' 'Jonah, clear those new trees out of there right away or we may have a forest for a roof. Burn those sucking mimosas. Then cut down the big one on our lawn and burn it, too. Bonnie had heard the commotion from her bedroom and came running out, blooming mad. 'Don't, don't do that, Mom. It is a beautiful tree. I love it! Aunt Mollie will hurt if you hurt the only blue mimosa we've ever seen.' Jonah had just about removed the leaves and the saplings and was beginning to wash down the gutters. At exactly one in the afternoon, the phone in the kitchen rang. Jonah had just cut down the mimosa. Bonnie was crying, calling me the killer of her child.

 

''Hello,' I said and waited for a 'hello from the other end of the line. It came. 'Hello, Clara. This is your Aunt Esther calling from NY. Aunt Mollie had asked me to call you, find out how Bonnie's mimosa was doing
yesterday.

 

She died this morning. So how is the mimosa?'