Rose of Sharon |Courting Trouble BK 2|

CHAPTER 1

"A rose dreams of enjoying the
company of bees, but none appears.
The sun asks: Aren't you tired of
waiting Yes, answers the rose, but if I
close my petals, I will wither and die." -

Paulo Coelho

Katrina gently placed her violin in its case and zipped it up. After a moment of thought, she turned around and left it lying on the white vanity table that was standing beside her bed. She walked over to the great window that overlooked the front lawns and watched as a guard escorted Mrs Beufont out of their premises.

The elderly lady was nice enough, but her sorrow had left her too numb to truly appreciate her kindness.

Katrina pulled the windows shut and allowed the beige heavy curtains fall back into place. She then turned and surveyed her room, a great white room that was devoid of colour and character and as such, was perfectly suited for the likes of her.

Her white phone was lying on the bed. The same place she had left it when she had walked to begin her lesson. It almost blended with the white comforter apart from the gilded lattice that decorated its edges and thus, making it standout.

There was the white vanity set that was adjacent to her bed and next to the bathroom and closet doors. The violin in a white caseand a white hairbrush were the only other things that lay on the vanity's surface, the rest of its contents having been stored away in its many drawers.

On the far end of the room and a few paces from the foot of the bed was a seating area. All the seats werewhite settees and a chaise lounge was present which lay adjacent to the wall containing a flat screen television that wazmounted on a granite pilar supporting the fireplace chimney.

A glass coffee table stood on a white fur rug and a magazine, the Veterum Vanity, was laid out upon it. It's pages had been flipped open and on the very first page was the image of the one that was responsible for all these misery. He was cute though and she looked down at him in yearning even as he grinned back at her looking sharp in the brilliant white tuxedo.
She moved closer to the table and picked up the magazine. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked up the boy's smiling face. There was nothing to be done now. She remarked as she slowly lowered the paper on the table again. There was nothing, she thought as she stretched out herself on the chaise lounge and took to crying.

"Katrina?" She sniffed back her tears and wiped the rest with her palms drying them with the skirt of her yellow sundress.

"Katrina?"

"Yes grandma," she said turning to face the older Mrs Maracheli." I didn't hear you come in."

"Probably because you were busy sobbing your eyes out, again." The old lady scolded.

"But it hurts so much!" Katrina wailed.

Her grandmother hobbled up to her and pulled her into a comforting hug.

"Shush my child. Don't cry, it's not good for the baby."

Katrina broke into another round of tears weeping bitterly into her grandmother's shoulder.

"He hasn't called yet Nana. Not even once! "

The old lady frowned at that and pulled the girl into an even tighter hug. She began to hum the tune of an old lullaby and eventually her granddaughter was able to calm down. The old lady encouraged her to stretch out on the lounge still humming to the tune of the lullaby and slowly Katrina's tired eyes grew heavy with sleep. The crying had worn her out and in no time she had dozed off.

The old lady stood up and walked over towards the bed. She pulled off the white comforter that covered it and hobbled back to where her granddaughter was, before using it to cover up her still sleeping form.
She took the settee next to the chaise lounge and shook off her slippers stretching out her legs as she continued to hum to the same old tune.

Her gaze flickered over to the coffee table and she noticed the open magazine. She stared at the image of the grinning boy and muttered softly to herself. He was a spitting image of his father.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and it startled her out of her reverie.
She dropped her feet to the ground and slipped the slippers on.

Knock! Knock! The knock came again.

"Hold your horses, I'm coming!"
She hissed as she shuffled towards the door and pulled it wide open.

"Are you trying to bring down the entire house?" She glared at the maid who was caught standing with her hand mid air poised for another knock. She dropped her hand and stared at the floor embarrassed.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I did not mean to be rude."
"You did not mean to? You better hope that all your pummelling did not wake my granddaughter up."

"Sorry, ma'am" she apologised again.

"Are you going to keep apologising the whole day or will tell me what it is that brought you here?"

"Aah sorry ma--" the maid started to apologize but then, she stayed herself as she suddenly realised her second mistake. At this, the old lady who was studying her smiled back despite her original annoyance.

"Well,  go on,tell me." She encouraged.

"Mrs Beufont called. She said something about wanting to speak to Katrina?"

"Mmh... Did she now?"

"Yes ma'am" the maid bopped her head in agreement.

" Okay then, go on ahead. Tell her I'll be right there to speak to her."
The maid curtseyed and turned to quickly walk down the cream plaster and marble hallway.

Mrs Maracheli turned back to the room and confirmed that Katrina was still fast asleep. With that the grandmother gently closed the door and shuffled down the corridor to where the maid was waiting with the house phone in her hand.

"Thank you Immaculate, I'll take it from here ." She said receiving the proffered handset before speaking into it, "Nancy!"