Where Petals Fall Read Online Free PDF

Junie suspected it was because Theresa thought she could gain whatever insight into Sarah’s issues through her dealing with Sarah and the other medical reports. Maybe she thought the questionnaire was as pointless as Junie did.
    “You’re always so busy.”
    Junie knew her mother was trying to keep her mind off of the reality of her father’s death, which pressed in on them from every angle of the room. He stared down from the photograph on the small decorative shelf behind Ruth, and even the Science Illustrated magazines that lay in a stack on the table were like needles that poked them with each glance.
    “Why don’t I put these away?” Junie stood to gather the magazines.
    “No, please. I like them there.”
    Junie sat back down. “You’re sure? I can put them in the other room, so you don’t have to see them.”
    “I want to see them,” she said.
    Worry about Sarah and the growing issues with Brian pecked at Junie. “Mom?” She wanted to ask her advice. She looked into Ruth’s shadowed eyes, then let her eyes travel down her fragile frame, diminished in the too-large long-sleeve polo shirt she wore, as if losing her husband had meant the withering away of a piece of her strength.
    The doorbell rang.
    “Never mind,” Junie said. “I’ll get that.”
    A young deliveryman stood holding a bouquet of red roses. “Ruth Nailon?” he said with a practiced grin, thrusting the flowers forward.
    Junie took a step backward. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “No. Just leave them on that table, thank you.” She pointed to a small café table on the porch.
    “Are you sure? They need to be watered.”
    “Yes, thank you,” Junie snipped. Her heartbeat sped up.
    “Oh for goodness’ sake, Junie.” Ruth pushed Junie aside and took the flowers from the baffled young man’s hands. “Thank you.” She closed the door and followed Junie into the kitchen. “What is it with you and roses?”
    Goose bumps climbed up Junie’s arms. She tried to rub them away—or maybe she was hiding them from her mother; she couldn’t be sure. Ever since Ellen’s disappearance Junie’d had an aversion to roses, all colors and types. The very sight of roses made her heart race and sweat form on her brow.  Junie’s theory was that the rose-induced panic was caused by stolen moments of hiding in the gardens with Ellen. That was their thing, and maybe when Ellen went away, their thing was just too painful for Junie to enjoy. That was the best explanation Junie could come up with, anyway.
    Ruth efficiently filled a vase, clipped the ends of the stems, and arranged the red roses in a wide and beautiful fashion. She set them on the kitchen table. “There. That ought to brighten things up a bit.”
    Junie shot her a stern look and wondered who had sent them. Selma and Mary Margaret knew about the effect roses had on her.
    “Really?” Ruth lifted her eyes. “What do you suggest? That I throw them out?”
    “That might be a start.” Junie opened the side door and walked outside, her mother’s voice trailing behind her.
    “The rabbi sent them. They’re flowers, not demons.”

    Junie crouched by the sandbox, a green plastic ball in her hands. “Hey, sweetie. Whatcha doin’?”
    Sarah dropped her eyes to the damp sand where she’d used the end of the stick to draw a square with a triangle on top—a four-year-old’s rendition of a house.  
    Junie looked up the hill. “Is that Papa Peter’s house?”
    Sarah didn’t respond.
    “Grandma’s house?”
    Sarah pressed her lips together.
    Junie smiled. “Oh! Is that our house?”
    Sarah’s eyes bloomed. She nodded, pushing herself to her feet and walking toward the front yard.
    “Whoa, honey.” Junie raced after her. “We’re not going home.” Junie reached for her arm.
    Sarah dashed through the side yard, her little body like a dart in the sun, heading toward the van. Curls bounced against her shoulders and her hands splayed out to her sides as she ran, as if