The Name of the Rose

I REMEMBER VIVIDLY how my grandfather once came home in almost a state of shock after visiting a friend of my mother’s: “She had no flowers in the house, not even a small posy from the garden.” I don’t recall if my mother and she remained friends. Fifty years later, I use my grandfather’s reaction as an excuse to buy flowers at least weekly in my attempt to maintain some semblance of good housekeeping.

Part of ‘The Rachel Papers’

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