sarcasticsra: A picture of Bruce Campbell. (corlionis: torey)
Sra ([personal profile] sarcasticsra) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2012-03-25 10:30 pm

Rose Saturation + TARDIS Blue, 11 + supplies and styles.

Author: Sara
Colors: Rose + TARDIS Blue, 11. I am not a student of human nature. I am a professor of a far wider academy of which human nature is merely a part.
Supplies: Eraser (Polygamy AU), Brush (multitudinous: including a multitude of individuals), Modeling Clay ("choice")
Style: Saturation, Portrait, Grafitti
Word Count: 5,530
Rating: PG-13 (and a trigger warning for mention of child molestation)
Story: Polyfaceted; title of this is Many The Miles.
Summary: Random moments in a universe where multiple partners are the norm.
Notes: Spans an alternate May 1986 to April 2036. Thanks so much to Kelly for all the cheerleading. For the New Beginnings challenge.


28. If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I'd be picking roses for a lifetime.

“Yes, I’d like to make a reservation for the twenty-third,” Augusto said. “For my wives and I. The name is Augusto Corlioni.”

“Of course, sir,” said the man on the end of the line. “And how many will be in your party?”

“Eight, please.”

There was a pause on the line—barely there, but Augusto still noticed. “Eight, sir?”

“Yes, only eight. One of my wives can’t join us, unfortunately.”

Another pause, slightly longer that time. “Of course, sir. Seven o’clock?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

“We look forward to serving you.”


6. Life is a rose; beware of the thorns.

“I’m pregnant,” Melissa said nonchalantly, as though she were mentioning the weather.

Augusto stilled, watching her carefully. A child born outside of marriage was considered unwise at best, neglectful at worst, so he wondered—

She snorted, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you dare ask me to marry you, Augusto,” she said, then sighed. “I don’t want to be a mother.”

“I will raise the child,” he told her. “My wives and I.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t look surprised. When she smiled, it was satisfied. “I’m sure we’ll come to some sort of beneficial arrangement.”


29. Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.

When Torey saw Caroline already waiting at the table for lunch, he couldn’t help but smile. She had her hair down and her reading glasses on as she glanced over the menu, and she looked nothing short of beautiful.

The smile stayed in place throughout their lunch, and when he got home, Eileen was there. She took one look at him and gave him an amused grin.

“What?” he asked.

“Honey,” she said gently, apparently trying not to laugh, “you know you and Caroline are dating, right?”

He snapped his head up. “What?” he repeated.

“You’ve been having regular lunches and dinners, platonic as they may be, for the past month and a half,” she said. “And every single time I see you afterward, you’re smiling so much I half-expect you to start whistling. Face it. You’re dating, honey.” She still looked amused.

“We’re friends,” he said half-heartedly, but even as the words left his mouth he knew that wasn’t all it was. Spending time with Caroline made him happy, that much was obvious, and it those feelings were more than friendly, at least on his end. “You don’t think she’s been feeling pressured, do you?” That thought made him uneasy.

“No. I think she feels the same way,” Eileen said. “And I think it’s maybe time the two of you had a talk.”

“You’re right,” he said, nodding slowly. “With your permission.” Those three words alone said all that he was thinking about where he wanted that conversation to end up.

She smiled. “Oh, honey, of course you have my permission. I like Caroline, and I like how much she makes you smile.”

Torey leaned in and kissed her. “I love you.”


13. Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.

It seemed like John had been busier than usual lately. Between his and Owen’s new baby, Brenda at eight months, Elaine self-sequestered with the flu (so she didn’t get all the children sick), and all his patients, Linda felt like she hadn’t seen him for more than five minutes straight in at least three weeks.

She knew it wasn’t purposeful, and that he usually juggled everything on his plate with aplomb, but it didn’t mean she didn’t miss him.

Sighing, she studied herself in her vanity mirror as she brushed her hair. She glanced up in surprise when her bedroom door opened, revealing John. It was Elaine’s night, though she’d assumed he’d stay with Brenda, both to avoid possibly infecting his immunocompromised patients and to be sure of how she was doing.

“You’re not staying with Brenda tonight?” she asked him, setting down her brush.

He smiled, closing the door behind him and moving closer. Bending down, he swept her hair away and kissed her neck. “I’ve missed you. Brenda understands. Besides, I think she wanted her bed to herself tonight.”

She smiled at him through the mirror. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Things have been beyond hectic,” he said, and kissed her neck again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “Not your fault.”

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured in her ear, dropping a kiss just below it.

His tone sent a shiver down her spine. She gave him a mischievous smile. “Please do.”

They spent the next two hours making love, and when she snuggled up against him, sated and worn out, he wrapped an arm around her and stroked her hair lovingly. She’d often struggled with self-esteem issues, having always been heavier than the normal standards of beauty allowed for, but John had helped her and loved her, and she never felt more beautiful and desirable than when she was in his arms just like this.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, and she smiled lazily at him.

“I love you too.”


9. How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill?

Julia smiled as she took in the scene before her—Thanksgiving certainly was chaos of frankly ridiculous proportions. She spotted Eva and Adamo off in a secluded area, putting together a puzzle with the help of Elisabetta and Cristina, something they all seemed to be totally absorbed in.

“They’re very intent on getting it done tonight,” said a voice suddenly, and Julia glanced up to see Violetta smiling at her.

She grinned. “I see that,” she said. “I’m sure they will.”

Violetta sat next to her and they took in the scene together. “I love these gatherings,” she said. “It was only me and my mom growing up, and you can imagine the grief a single mother had to endure, but I liked that it was only the two of us.” She smiled wryly. “Now I can’t imagine having Thanksgiving with less than fifty people.”

“I know what you mean,” Julia said, after a long moment lost deep in thought, thinking of all the times she wondered if she could ever hope to have a family. She smiled back and took a sip from her glass. “It feels like home.”


15. Man is harder than iron, stronger than stone and more fragile than a rose.

“Being single blows,” Matt said suddenly.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, because as far as he knew, Matt had never shown even the slightest inclination toward commitment. “Suddenly had a change a heart?”

He snorted. “No. It blows because it means you have to work five times as hard to be seen half as responsible. No one trusts you if they think you’re so immature you can’t make a marriage last. That doesn’t work very well if you’re their doctor.”

“Yeah, guess that’d suck,” Johnny said. “What’re ya gonna do ‘bout it?”

“How would you feel about a platonic marriage?”

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re fuckin’ serious?”

“Being single is killing me at work.”

He kept laughing for a moment. “Yeah, all right,” he said when he was done. “Gotta talk ta Michael an’ Brian ‘bout it, course, but it should be okay.”

Matt grinned at him. “Awesome.”


24. One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon-instead of enjoying the roses blooming outside our windows today.

Dan glanced up when the door chimed, faltering when he saw who had just walked in with Torey. He was sure the stunned look on Caroline’s face identically matched his own.

Torey glanced between them, raising his eyebrows. “Something tells me you two have met?”

“Yes. We dated,” Caroline said, unfreezing first. “For two years.”

Now it was Torey’s turn to look stunned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Dan confirmed. “Ten years ago.” He shook his head as they sat down at the bar. “How have you been?”

She smiled. “I’ve been well. I moved back to the city. Obviously. I see you run this place now.”

“Yeah. My dad died in ’94,” he said. “Bourbon?” he asked Torey, who nodded.

“Red wine for me,” added Caroline. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was tough. But it made me realize where I needed to be,” Dan said as he got them their drinks.

She smiled at him. It still lit up not just her face, but also the room she was in. “I’m glad you found your place,” she said, then shook her head, giving Torey an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’m being a terrible date.”

Torey only smiled. “It’s all right. This is a strange coincidence, after all.”

“It is. We’ve talked on the phone,” Caroline said then, sounding bemused. “I had no idea it was you.”

“Same for me,” Dan agreed. “I’ll leave you to your date. It was nice seeing you again, Caroline.”

“And you, Dan.”

When he got home that night, Annie was still up, rocking Danielle—he thought maybe he’d start calling her Dani—in her arms. “You will never believe who I ran into this evening,” he said quietly, leaning to kiss her hello.

“Who would that be?”

“Caroline Foster. The same Caroline who now works for Torey Corlioni.” He shook his head, sitting down on the couch. “They’re also dating.”

“Wow,” said Annie. “It’s been, what, ten years since you’ve seen her?”

“About that,” he agreed. “She stepped in the door and all of a sudden I was twenty again.”

Annie studied him for a moment before smiling wryly. “Honey, your relationship didn’t end because it didn’t work. It ended because she moved.”

“I know,” he said slowly, giving her a curious look.

“What I mean is that there could still be feelings there, and maybe you’ve been given another chance. Are you going to take it?”

He met her eyes. “Do you think I should?”

“I do. I think it will make you happy,” she said.

“She’s only dating Torey right now. They’re not married,” he pointed out. “That makes it more complicated.”

“It may be more common to wait until after marriage to date again, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only way it’s ever done,” Annie replied. “Talk to her. If she feels the same way, I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

He stood and kissed her again. “Okay. I will.”


2. A relationship is like a rose, How long it lasts, no one knows.

“I called it off. I had to,” Cristina said. “Seamus and I…there were doubts. I tried to ignore them, but the engagement only made them worse. Marriage is important—I mean, look at my examples—and I didn’t want to take the chance that we’d be making a terrible fucking mistake.”

“Sounds like you made the right call,” Nicoletta said.

“Definitely,” Isabella agreed. “Especially if you’re not sure.”

“I will sure as fuck miss the sex, though,” she said, and they laughed. When the bartender placed a strange-looking orange drink in front of her, she blinked. “Okay, seriously, I know I said surprise me, but what the hell is this?”

“My signature drink,” he said.

“It’s orange,” said Isabella, sounding vaguely horrified.

“It’s fruity,” added Nicoletta. She looked unimpressed.

Cristina shrugged and took a drink. “Actually,” she said, making a thoughtful face, “it’s not bad. Not really sweet.”

“What’s in it?” Nicoletta asked.

“It’s a secret,” he said.

Cristina smirked at him. “All right, Caleb,” she said, reading off his nametag. “What if I guess?”

He grinned back at her. “Then it’s on the house.”

“You’re on.”


3. A single rose can be my garden...a single friend, my world.

“Are you married?” asked a new nurse—Molly, Mina thought her name was.

“Yes,” she said absently, looking over the chart in her hands.

“Me too. Twice—my second husband and I just got married.”

“Congratulations,” Mina replied, just as absently. Molly didn’t appear to notice.

“Thanks.” She grinned. “How many times are you married?”

“Just the once,” she said. “My husband and I are monogamous.”

Molly’s grin vanished. “Oh,” she said, eyes widening. “Oh wow. I’ve never met anyone—are you, uh—Christians?”

“Atheists, actually,” she said, matter-of-fact.

“Huh. I thought monogamy was part of that whole—”

“The word is cult,” Mina cut in smoothly, making a notation. “And it is, yes, but one can be monogamous and not follow those beliefs.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “Do you have any kids?”

“No,” she said. “We didn’t want them.” Mina shrugged. “My siblings have plenty of children between them. We’re more than covered.”

Molly was now giving her a somewhat awed expression. That was vaguely unsettling. “It must be tough,” she said. “Being so different.”

Mina shrugged and closed the folder in her hands. “I’m used to it.”


22. Be a rose which gives fragrance even to those who crushes it.

The gossip chain at the hospital was nigh-unbearable. Brenda gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore it.

At lunch, John waved her over to a table where he was already seated with Greg and Erica. He earned one of a very few sincere smiles that day. “How are you?” he asked once she joined them.

“I would be better if everyone found something else to gossip about.”

“Hey, you committed the dreaded D-word,” Greg said, rolling his eyes. “Apparently that outranks me and Erica.”

“Of course. Divorce is much more scandalous than monogamy,” added Erica. She too rolled her eyes.

“They’d all change their tunes in a heartbeat if they knew the reason why,” John muttered.

Brenda knew that was true. As scandalous as divorce was, domestic abuse was even more so, and their sympathies would shift instantly. “No one’s had the guts to approach me directly yet,” she said. “Not that I’d tell them even if they did, no matter how much easier it would be. It’s none of their damn business.”

“If I could make them shut up, I would,” John told her, and she smiled at him, placing a hand over his.

“I know.”

She didn’t miss the knowing looks Erica and Greg shot each other.


16. The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.

“Dan asked me out…I suppose you could say again,” Caroline told Torey at lunch. They were away from the office, because that was the only way she could envision this working: there had to be rules. One of those rules was that the office was not for personal business.

“I’m not really surprised,” he said with a smile. “Did you say yes?”

“I would like to, yes,” she said carefully. “It is a bit out of the ordinary, though, isn’t it? Dating him while you and I—it’s not how these things usually work.”

“I think we’re already past ‘out of the ordinary,’” he said lightly. “What’s one more thing?”

She smiled at him. “Then you wouldn’t mind?”

He covered her hand. “I wouldn’t mind.”


1. Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.

“Romeo,” Stefano said haltingly. “Can I—can I talk to you?”

Romeo frowned at the tone of his voice; it sounded like something was wrong. “Sure. What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat and glanced around—their mas were talking quietly in the kitchen, and Isabella and Nicoletta were engrossed in a movie in the living room. “Not here?”

He frowned again. “My room?” Stefano nodded silently, so Romeo led the way down the hall. He closed the door behind them and asked, “Okay. Now what’s wrong?”

Stefano bit his lip. He looked like he might cry. “One of the patrons at church, Father Christopher—he—he touched me.” The words were barely a whisper. “He said it was because I needed to be fixed, that there was something wrong with me and I’d never get married to anyone because everyone would see, but it felt wrong and I didn’t—I didn’t want him to—”

Romeo sucked in a breath. “Stefano, you have to tell Pop.”

“What if he doesn’t believe me?”

“He’ll believe you,” Romeo said firmly. “Listen. What Father Christopher did to you is wrong, and it’s not because you need fixing or anything stupid like that. He’s the one who needs fixing, not you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Come on. Let’s go talk to your ma. She can call Pop to come over.” He held out a hand and Stefano clung to it. “It’ll be okay. Pop will know what to do.”

Unlike much of his family, Romeo didn’t usually condone violence, but in this case…Father Christopher was going to get everything he deserved.


8. Beauty without virtue is like a rose without scent.

Johnny and Matt’s wedding had been quick and easy, only a civil ceremony with Lea and Torey as witnesses. They had decided to go to Dan’s afterward, though, and invite the rest of his family to celebrate.

“Shoulda seen the look on the clerk’s face when he realized I’d only married guys,” Johnny said with a grin, taking a swig of his beer.

“He just looked so confused,” Matt added, smirking.

Lea smiled and raised her glass. “To confusing people?”

Johnny sent a grin her way. “Ta confusin’ people,” he agreed, and they all took a drink.


4. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

“I really like fucking you,” Nicoletta told Cary, who gave her a breathless, boyish grin.

“Believe me, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

She smirked. “I thought as much.” Running a nail along his arm, she mused, “Maybe we should get married.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking mildly surprised. “You think?”

“I like you. We could fuck more often,” she said, and grinned. “Any interest in being a kept boy?”

Cary laughed. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Excellent.” Her grin turned predatory. “Now. Ready for round two?”

He smirked. “More than ready.”


21. The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns; the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the rose.

“That’s it. Get out,” Angela snapped, voice like steel.

Maggie sneered. “Who the hell do you think you are? I’m David’s first wife. If anyone belongs here, it’s me.”

“You may have trapped him and wormed your way into this family that way, but that doesn’t mean I’m putting up with you,” she replied. “Get out of this house and don’t think about coming back.”

“My children—”

“Your children are welcome here whenever they please,” she interrupted. “You’re not.”

Maggie gave her a thunderous look. “This isn’t over,” she said, but she left.

Angela snorted. Like hell it wasn’t.


11. The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.

“It’s just—augh, I want to scream,” she said. “I’m still in school. Why is it so important that I start now to look for a husband or two? Why can’t it wait until later? I just wish everyone would stop asking.”

Owen nodded sympathetically, and that was when the idea occurred to him. “Maybe we should get married.”

Elizabeth blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Owen, you’re gay.”

He shrugged. “So? It’ll help us both professionally if we’re married, and it doesn’t have to be about sex. You’re my best friend, Lizzie. I might not be in love with you, but I still love you,” he said. “Besides, if we get married, they’ll stop asking for a while. It’ll be easier.”

“Until they start asking about kids,” she muttered, but she was clearly thinking. “Are you sure? You think this could work?”

“I am,” he said. “What do you think?”

She seemed to consider it for a few minutes. Eventually, she nodded. “All right. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

He grinned.


17. A rose is a rose is a rose.

“I don’t think I want to get married,” Maria said.

Nicoletta shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s not like you’re going to hurt professionally.”

She considered that and nodded. “True. Why did you?”

“Politics, in Liam’s case. Good sex for all of them.”

“Sensible,” Maria said with a nod. “I can understand it for those reasons.”

“That’s all you really need,” Nicoletta said. “If you meet someone you can stand for any length of time and like fucking, why not? It doesn’t have to be about more than that.”

“I suppose not.” She looked thoughtful. “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s up to you,” Nicoletta said firmly. “No one else.”

Maria smiled. “I know.”


5. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.

Terri was crying when Angela checked on her. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked gently, walking into the room and shutting the door behind her.

She wiped her eyes and shrugged. “Nothing,” she said unconvincingly.

Angela gave her an even look. “Really? Nothing?”

Wrapping her arms around her knees, she hugged them close and looked down. “My mother doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Of course. It had to be that bitch. Angela considered lying to her, but what the hell good would that do? They both knew the truth. “You’re right,” she said after a moment. “But you know what? You’re better off without her. And you have me.”

Terri chanced a glanced up. “I do?”

“You do,” Angela replied firmly. Her mother was a sorry excuse for a human being. That didn’t mean her children deserved anything less.

She mustered a smile. “Thanks.”


25. Love thou the rose, yet leave it on its stem.

“What do you think about getting married?” Colleen asked him one evening.

David stilled. Between Angela and that fucking brother of hers— “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

She looked at him. “Why not?”

Fuck. It wasn’t like he could say ‘because my wife hates you’ and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to mention Liam. “You live in Ireland,” he said at last. “It’d be a trans-Atlantic marriage.”

She raised an eyebrow. “My brother and your sister make it work.”

“I don’t want something like that.”

“I guess I can understand that,” she said slowly. “And I’m sure as hell not going to move, and I know you wouldn’t.”

“Exactly.”

“All right,” she said, nodding. “Never mind.”

He held back a sigh of relief.


18. The rose is a flower of love. The world has acclaimed it for centuries. Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant. White roses are for love dead or forsaken, but the red roses, ah the red roses are for love triumphant.

They were relaxing in the living room, the kids long in bed, when Romeo mentioned it. “I was chaperoning a field trip today,” he said.

“You mentioned that,” Penny said, smiling up at him. “How was it?”

“I think a couple students were actually interested,” he said dryly, and she grinned. “I—uh—I met this woman there. She works at the museum.”

Penny set down her book and gave him an expectant look. “Oh?”

“She was—brilliant,” he said slowly, and Penny raised an eyebrow.

“You want to ask her out?”

“I think so.”

She smiled and nodded. “I’d like to meet her.”

“Of course.”


10. But he that dares not grasp the thorn / Should never crave the rose.

“It’s not easy,” Stefano said. “I want to find somebody, but...” He stopped and sighed, shaking his head.

“You will,” Isabella told him. “When you meet the right people—”

“Person,” he said in a rush. “I think—person.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You want to be monogamous?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

After a moment, she shrugged. “When you meet the right person, then. You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“I wish I could be as sure,” he muttered. “It would be easier if there weren’t so much pressure all the time.”

“Unfortunately, that doesn’t really go away,” she said.

“Yeah, I know. But how do you deal with it?”

“Ignore it as best you can. Make sure you’re happy. Fuck everyone else.”

He snorted. “Yeah.”


23. Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.

Nights like these were rare, when the five of them—himself, Annie, Caroline, Torey, and Eileen—could find the time to relax together. Between his schedule, Caroline and Torey’s, and Eileen’s, it didn’t often happen, but when it did, it was worth it.

“Excellent selection,” Dan said when he and Torey headed to the liquor cabinet to get another couple bottles of bourbon.

Torey grinned. “Dan-approved?”

He laughed and nodded.

They returned to the living room and the women, who were deep in some sort of discussion. “Talking about anything interesting?”

“Of course, honey,” said Eileen, grinning. “Caroline and I were just telling Annie how much you overshare when you get drunk.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at Torey. He hadn’t ever seen him that drunk that he could remember. “You do?”

“He does,” Caroline cut in before Torey could respond. Interestingly, she blushed after she said it.

“I may have a small drunk filter issue,” Torey said as they sat down.

Eileen snickered. “Small?”

“Now you’re just making me curious,” he said.

“Maybe we’ll have to show them,” Eileen said, grinning wickedly. Torey only shook his head.


19. There is nothing more difficult for a truly creative painter than to paint a rose, because before he can do so he has first to forget all the roses that were ever painted.

It was a trial to be cordial to her whenever they were in public, and it was one that Gabriella loathed, expected or not. Fortunately, Spouses’ Day was only once a year, so although it was an indignity, at least it was a rare indignity.

She eyed Flavia and Arianna chatting amiably on the other side of the table; next to them, Elisa and Violetta were exchanging nonverbal glances of communication. She rolled her eyes and her gaze flitted to Martina at the head of the table, next to Augusto. Of course. Gabriella felt her temper flare at the sight.

Martina caught her gaze and gave her an even look. Gabriella pursed her lips and said nothing. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a scene.


20. But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.

“She’s asleep,” Amadeo said. “Finally.”

Isabella grinned at him from where she was seated on the couch with Jeremy. “Now you know why I said it was your turn.”

“Yes, yes I do.” He sat down next to her, on her other side. “What are you watching?”

“Doctor Who,” she said, and he laughed.

“Seriously?”

“I’m British,” Jeremy said dryly. “It’s practically a requirement.”

Amadeo laughed again. “All right, I’ll buy that. What’s your excuse?”

“I fall in love with nerds?” she said innocently.

Jeremy made a token faux-indignant protest before grinning.


26. Why is it no one ever sent me yet one perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get one perfect rose.

Their marriage was simple, based on what they could afford at the time. Violetta wore a white sundress with little red flowers all over, and Elisa went with a deep purple blouse and black pencil skirt. Two of their friends from Reward acted as witnesses.

Later, when they were both with Augusto, they told him about it. He asked if they might ever want to renew their vows, make a big production.

They exchanged a knowing smile and said no. It might have been simple, but it was theirs, and nothing could be more precious.


12. Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside...but there is always pain hidden somewhere.

“I’m worried, sweetheart,” Ma said softly, stroking his hair. “Your siblings are too. You know you can tell me if something’s wrong?”

Gino bit his lip. He wanted to tell her, but where did he even begin? “That’s just it, Ma,” he mumbled, burrowing his face into a pillow. “Nothing’s wrong, but...”

“But?” she prompted.

“But sometimes I feel like all I want to do is lay in bed and not talk to anyone, even Vito, for weeks at a time.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “We’re going to get you some help, all right?”


27. Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden.

She was beautiful, that much was obvious to anyone, not just Charles—strikingly beautiful. She was also brilliant, able to put Greg in his place if the situation called for it, and that was an impressive feat.

But she and Greg were monogamous, and besides, he looked up to Greg—respected him as a friend, even a mentor. He might not understand monogamy in a practical sense, but it was what worked for them, and he could understand that much.

As much as Charles might like Erica, it could never happen. That was all right—what he got instead was more than worth any disappointment he might feel—but that didn’t stop the disappointment from sneaking up on him anyway.

He could live with it.


7. The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.

Augusto took a sip from his wine. The Solstice festivities were coming to a close, the children off playing quietly amongst themselves and their mothers watching on fondly. There was Martina, strong and competent; Gabriella, fierce and wild; Arianna, compassionate and kind; Flavia, sweet and steady; Violetta, gorgeous and carefree; Elisa, sexy and confident; and Julia, lovely and precious.

He loved them all.


14. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.

The matron of their church raised her hands, and everyone stood. “May prosperity guide your way,” she started, reciting the end of service prayer. “May your children grow strong, nurtured by all as the Gods and Goddesses nurture us in kind. May your love blossom like the flowers, bettering all those who happen upon it. Blessed be your families, your neighbors, and you. Amen.”


30. God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.

Everyone was there for the funeral, Martina noticed. Even Gabriella was behaving decently.

She let the matron’s words wash over her, reminding them that Augusto was with the Gods and Goddesses now, and though he was gone in body he would never be gone in spirit.

She took another look around the church at the massive, sprawling family he had brought together, and she supposed that couldn’t be more true.

It was a comfort.

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