Miss Rose and The Girls
The mannequins on the front porch made him jump a little. Every time he saw them, they were arranged or dressed a little differently, as if they possessed some kind of glacier-slow life that he only saw in flashes. But Fort knew that Miss Rose paid careful attention to her “girls” as she called them, changing their outfits and posing them. And he knew that many more were inside the house; in the kitchen, at the dining table, sitting demurely in the parlor, in the upstairs bedrooms, and in the attic.
Rose Dose was the 70 year old widow of the old town doctor, Dr. Dose, but everyone called her Miss Rose. In any other town, Miss Rose would’ve been the town eccentric or the town crazy, but here no one thought her, or her astounding collection of store mannequins, particularly odd. No odder than old Jerry, who had nailed dozens of old guitars to the outside of his house, or Mary Gibson, who had filled her kitchen with ceramic pigs. Just another collector.
He knocked on the door and called out, “Miss Rose, are ya’ home?”
“Fort, is that you, honey?” a high, sweet voice answered from the back yard.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ve got your birdseed.”
“Oh, that’s fine, that’s fine. Be a dear and bring it ’round back, will you? I need some help with Howard.”
He walked back to his truck, chuckling to himself, and pulled the seed off the tailgate. Then he hoisted it to his shoulder and walked around to the back yard, where he found Miss Rose, dressed impeccably as always, wrestling her one and only male mannequin out the back door.
“I thought Howard would like to be outside today, to show off his new hunting outfit. It’s not new really, the Doctor loved to hunt and I found some of his old gear in the attic,” she told him. Then she sighed and continued, “Of course, the poor dear couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn, good thing he was a better doctor than hunter!”
Fort smiled at that, Dr. Dose had been a good doctor, but since the gear looked practically untouched, he could believe the part about being a poor hunter.
“And besides,” she continued, “Howard would probably want to get away from the girls from time to time, if he were real.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure he would,” Fort answered with a grin. “By the way, why’d you name him Howard and all the rest are just ‘the girls’?”
A wistful look crossed Miss Rose’s face. “I bought him from Howard’s Department Store in Joplin, when they went out of business. Such a nice store, pity.”
Miss Rose indicated that she wanted Howard positioned in the bushes by the gazebo, facing the back of the property. She talked about bringing more of the girls outside, for an old-fashioned garden party. So many beautiful gowns and dresses were still in storage, just waiting for their turn to be worn again. Once, her dreadfully serious daughter-in-law had remarked, negatively, about just how many gowns Rose owned. Katherine had assumed that Rose’s father or husband had bought them all, but Miss Rose had once been a smart single girl who worked in a very nice dress shop. In fact, due to her trim figure, she modeled sample sizes for customers and bought those samples at a nice discount. And being a bit of a collector, she never could bear to part with a single, hard-earned dress. So here they all were, decorating her girls.
Fort frowned when Miss Rose mentioned Katherine, because that made him think of Reid, Rose’s son. “Uh, Miss Rose, is Reid coming in for Christmas or summer vacation this year?” If it was vacation, Fort knew he would have to put Howard and the girls in storage soon.
“Don’t you worry, Fort. Reid and Katherine won’t be coming until Christmas this year.”
That was good news. The businesses downtown borrowed Miss Rose’s girls for their holiday windows, and the store employees did all the work.
“He doesn’t like the girls?” But Fort already knew the answer to that question, he just liked to hear her stories.
“That boy is just as much of a sour pickle as the Doctor was, bless his heart,” Miss Rose proclaimed, gently shaking her head. “I loved that man dearly, but how could he not see the funny in being a doctor named Dose?” It was rhetorical; Fort just smiled.
“I’ve always loved being Rose Dose, makes me sound like a medicine you’d actually want to take.”
He laughed at that. Fort thought, but didn’t say, that Miss Rose Dose was good medicine indeed. If he was fifty years older, he’d be on her doorstep with a bouquet of daisies every Friday night.
Bird seed delivered and Howard positioned, it was time for Fort to get back to work. Rose walked him to his truck and waved as he drove away. If I were fifty years younger, she said to herself, I would…But she couldn’t finish the thought, when she was young, girls just did not pursue young men. Sometimes she envied younger women, even Katherine, who just seemed so free, so unrestricted.
She shook her head and wished for the hundredth time that she knew a single young woman for Fort, but all her single acquaintances were also old widows. And it seemed like they were all competing for the same few widowers. Ah well, time was a cruel mistress with a nasty sense of humor.
Time was also unkind to her dresses, no matter how carefully she packed them away. Upstairs, in the attic, a long row of cedar chests held her precious frocks, folded away in tissue paper. Rose went to the one labeled “Spring” and opened it, releasing the scent of cedar and old fabric into the stale air of the attic. Even slightly yellowed with age, the spring dresses and gowns were lovely. Swiss dots and eyelet, tea rose prints and crinolines, boat necks and sweetheart necklines, pearl buttons and crisp cap sleeves–all things she didn’t see in the current styles–made her miss the grace of her youth.
Enough of this self-indulgence, she thought as she stood. The slight creaking in her hip reminded Rose that she wasn’t that youth anymore. “Time to get the girls dressed!” she said aloud.
It may have seemed like Rose talked to the mannequins as she dressed them, but she was really only talking to herself. Recalling this party or that wedding to which she wore some dress, and thinking about the days before the Doctor moved her to Post. Oh, how she grumbled at that! But she grew to love the slower pace and the people. While other small towns were insular and unwelcoming to strangers, Post had seemed to gather her into its fold. Even after the Doctor passed away, Rose knew she would stay. And she was glad she did, nobody ever said anything negative about her girls, except for Reid and Katherine. They seemed to take her mild eccentricity as a personal insult!
The dresses were all hanging in a closet downstairs, with any luck the wrinkles would fall out by morning. It had been a long day, but productive in its own way, so Rose went to bed.
She woke the next morning, just as the sky was starting to pink up with sunrise. Rose loved early morning, which was quite a change for her. As a young woman, she loved to stay up and out late, even when it scandalized her father. When she was a young mother, her son refused to stay down for the night, sleeping fitfully and waking every two hours. She didn’t get a decent night’s sleep until he was ten years old! Then there were the house calls, the bane of every doctor’s wife. Finally, Reid went off to college and the Doctor stopped making house calls. But after so many years of broken sleep, Rose couldn’t fix it. Now she woke literally before the chickens, the neighbor two houses down had a rooster. She had been awake at least an hour before he crowed.
Rose began to plan for the garden party tableau, as she called it. First she’d dress the girls, then she’d call her neighbor to help move them outside. The wrought iron table and chairs were already set up in the gazebo, but she’d put a pretty tablecloth on it and use her Blue Willow china. She was deep in preparation when she received two pieces of news, one good and one bad. The good news came in a phone call. The local newspaper, The Post Post, had run a piece about her girls in the Living section one Sunday and apparently some photographer from Kansas City had seen it. He wanted to take pictures of her collections, mannequins and dresses, for some big paper up there. He would be there tomorrow. The bad news, like so much bad news before, came in a letter. It was from Reid.
Not that hearing from her son was bad. Rose loved him and was so proud of him. He was a doctor, just like his father. And even if she didn’t understand, Reid saw something in her dour daughter-in-law and they had been married for ten years. Quite an accomplishment in this day and age, she thought. No, the bad news was that he and Katherine would be stopping by on their way to Dallas, where he was interviewing at a big hospital. The letter said, “next Wednesday” which should have been enough time, except mail took a little longer to get to Post. It was already Tuesday. So tomorrow would be busy, the photographer and her son would both be here.
Miss Rose spent the rest of the day getting ready for the photographer; there was no way to prepare for Reid and Katherine. The girl from next door and Fort both came over to help and her new tableau was done in record time.
For the first since he left for college, Rose had a restless night because of Reid.
Wednesday morning arrived too quickly. Miss Rose dressed more carefully than usual and made sure to wear lipstick. There was no way to know who would arrive first, the newspaper man or her son.
to be continued…..
Continued.
The photographer got there first by a few minutes. He was unloading his equipment when Reid and Katherine pulled up behind his car. Rose, standing on the porch and surrounded by mannequins, smiled and waved at them. Katherine couldn’t believe it; Rose had lied to them. The last time they had visited there had only been one mannequin in the house, the one wearing Miss Rose’s wedding gown. Reid had been pleased; his mother’s collection was a constant source of worry. To Reid, everything had a reason or purpose or deeper meaning-was his mother lonely or senile, should she really be living by herself?
The car had just barely stopped moving when he jerked it into park with a “tunk.” Ignoring car safety as well as social niceties, Reid left the driver’s side door wide open, ignored the photographer’s greeting, and left his very pregnant wife struggling to exit the car on his way to confront his mother.
“Reid. How nice to see you,” but Rose didn’t mean it, her normal smile had replaced by the look someone gets when they have to take a very bitter medicine.
By this time, Katherine was carefully making her way up the front walk. The photographer had seen her difficulty and helped her out of the car, forever earning Katherine’s highest praise of “What a nice man!” She heard Reid demanding to know what was going on, why were there mannequins on the porch, and who was the guy with the cameras.
She heard Rose say, “Reid, it’s none of your concern.”
“Oh, I think it is!” he answered, a slight threat to his voice.
Katherine stepped onto the porch, puffing slightly with the effort. “Mother, we’re just…worried about you,” she said. Reid’s face was starting to turn red with all the yelling and she patted his arm trying to calm him.
“Oh, posh!” her mother-in-law answered. “There’s nothing to worried about. I just didn’t have time to put the girls in storage. And that man is a photographer from the Kansas City paper, come to take pictures of them.”
The thought of his mother’s oddities being splashed all over the paper, even in some back section, was almost more than he could take. “What? Now, mother…”
“Don’t you ‘now, mother’ me, young man! You may be too big to put over my knee, but if you don’t take that disrespectful tone out of your voice I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!” The delicate, lady-like, impeccably dressed Miss Rose had taken her much taller son’s ear in her fingers and was giving it a cruel pinch.
With a wincing face and a reddening ear, the younger Dr. Dose cried out, “Ow, all right, all right!” then a pouty, “I’m sorry,” when she let go the offended ear.
Miss Rose brushed imaginary wrinkles out of her crisp, summer dress and smiled at the now wide-eyed newspaper man. “Never mind my rude son, young man, come on in and sit down. You too, Katherine. Reid didn’t tell me you were having a baby!” She shepherded them all into the parlor, and served them iced tea.
Katherine sat quietly listening to Rose answer the other man’s questions. Not only was he taking pictures of Miss Rose and the girls, he was writing a feature about them, too. Miss Rose’s stories, and the way she told them, thoroughly charmed not only the photographer, but Katherine as well. Even her husband began to relax and enjoy the anecdotes, even if he liked to pretend he didn’t. She sighed to herself, if only her own parents were this open and friendly, instead of serious and distant, life would have been much more fun!
The last question the newspaper man asked was: Where did they all come from? Katherine was curious too. Miss Rose answered with a chuckle, “You’d be surprised. Some came from department stores, some from the store fixture shop in Tulsa, and many were gifts. More people than you might expect have a mannequin or two. And when they find out I collect the girls, they give them to me. You know, if I put all my gowns on dressmaker’s dummies, I’d just be proud. Since I put them on the girls, my son, at least, thinks I’m crazy.”
The photographer excused himself to take the rest of his pictures. “Mother, I never said you were crazy! Like Kath said, we’re just worried about you. We don’t want you to be lonely,” Reid said, taking his mother’s hand.
“Honey, I’m not lonely, not around here. But it’s sweet of you to be concerned,” Rose said, removing her hand from his. “I’ve just always like playing dress-up and the girls let me do that.”
Katherine interrupted, “I may have somebody here you could play dress-up with.” She patted her growing belly and continued, “We found out we’re having a little girl.”
“That is good news, Katherine! But you all live so far away.”
Reid looked over at her, and she nodded. Then he said, “That interview in Dallas? I lied. The interview is here, in Post. Dad’s replacement wants to retire and move, so his office called me and asked if I’d like to take his place.”
He paused, and Rose said, “And? Son, you never could just get to the point.”
“Well, we didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case it didn’t work out. But we’ve already decided to take it. And move back here to Post. You okay with that?”
“Of course, I am! The very thought.” And she hugged both of them.
Months later, after Reid and Katherine had moved into a nice little house not far from Rose, and after the baby was born, Miss Rose Dose got rid of most of her “girls”. She couldn’t have a grandbaby over if the house wasn’t safe for children! And as a brand-new grandmother, she just didn’t have time to play with dolls anymore. She saved some of her favorite outfits in the last remaining cedar chest, just in case her granddaughter, Olivia, turned out to be the kind of girl who liked to play dress-up.
On occasion, Katherine would drive by the windows downtown just to look at the mannequins and dresses that graced the shops year-round now. Only two mannequins remained in Miss Rose’s house, up in the attic. One of the girls, wearing Rose’s wedding gown, and Howard, still in his hunting gear.
