Roses in December

***

During Thanksgiving break, Sam’s peers usually went on expensive out-of-town trips with their families. His roommate, Carl, was en route to Australia for vacation, a torturous twelve hour flight. Meanwhile, his buddy, Joe, was visiting family in France, and Sam’s phone was already getting overloaded with images of sweet crepes and berets. Both of his friends had offered to take Sam, but he told them he wanted to stay behind in case his mother needed him.

The truth was, he couldn’t pay for the trip. As a broke college student, Sam barely had enough money to pay for extra textbooks or Uber rides outside of his weekly trips to the grocery store. International travel was not only out of his price range, but also irresponsible of him. Just before the break started, Sam received a call from Barbara—his mom’s doctor who also happened to be a neighbor—saying that she was in poor condition. When Sam asked if his mom had been diagnosed with anything, Barbara replied that she couldn’t see anything life-threatening, but thought that it might be a good idea for Sam to stop by to visit, especially since his mom was well into her sixties.

After taking out a small loan, Sam managed to pay for the two hour flight from his school in Los Angeles to San Jose. He called his mom to let her know he’d be home for the holidays, but tried to avoid the uncomfortable discussion of her health. His mother sounded perfectly healthy and happy over the phone and insisted that she meet him at the airport. Although this relieved him, on the way over, Sam still prepared himself for the worst. Taking deep breaths, he tried to push out thoughts of his mother trying to cover up her sickly state.

“Thanks for having me back for the holidays,” Sam said, as he walked with his mom through the neighborhood park. He had been pleasantly surprised when he had met up with her at the airport. She looked perfectly normal—at least as well as he remembered—energetic even.

“Now, Sam,” she said chidingly, “you know how much you mean to me. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the Thanksgiving holidays than with you. I’m just so happy you still think of me!”

The cold bit at Sam’s exposed face and hands, foreshadowing the incoming winter. But today, Sam couldn’t feel much of anything, save the warmth of his mom. He had his arm around her as they ventured deeper and deeper through the hiking trail. Along the path, Sam’s mom pointed out the various patches of color. On one side, they saw brushes of yellow from the bright sunflowers, the Bladderpod, and the California Goldenrod that dangled at their feet. On the other side, they saw displays of mauve from the abundant daisies, the sage and Pink Chaparral. Further down the path Sam and his mom caught vivid splashes of red from the overhanging California Fuchsia. 

Walking with his mother, Sam felt a sense of indescribable ease. It was one of those feelings you never knew you needed until you experienced it firsthand. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he felt entitled to know how she was feeling.

“Mom, Barbara said you weren’t holding up too well. Is that true?“

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Sam.

“Oh, that Barbara,” she said, smiling softly. “She can say what he wants, Sammy, but you are my best and only medicine.”

There was a brief pause before her eyes caught on to something behind Sam. Rushing to a patch of flowers behind him, she pulled a rose from the flowerbed and proffered it to Sam.

“Oh, isn’t it gorgeous? I haven’t seen a rose so pretty in years.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but sensed that something was off about his mom. He wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but suspected that the topic made her uncomfortable, so he dropped it for the moment.

“You know what I’d like?” Sam’s mom said. “How would you like to go see a movie? There are so many things to see, we can decide on the show when we get there. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds great, mom,” Sam said.

As the days progressed, Sam slowly forgot that his mother was sick. They had so much fun with one another, watching endless movies, eating out and shopping excessively. His mother was appalled by Sam’s lack of fashion, so she bought him garment after garment on Black Friday. 

Through it all, Sam kept his iPhone camera rolling, capturing his mother being her usual silly and charismatic self. He sent some of these videos to Carl and Joe, trying to make them jealous of the fun time he was having at home. He planned to send these to Barbara, as well, but his mom stopped him, explaining that she might get worried and ask her to settle down.

When it was time to go back to school, Sam left her with the rose she had given him days earlier at the park.

“I kept it watered, and thought you might like it as a parting gift.”

“Oh, I love you, Sammy,” she said, embracing him.

One month later, Sam found himself in an Apple Store. He remained silent with a forced smile, as he studied the technician before him. The man was somewhere in his mid-twenties, with a youthful, round face, blemished ever so slightly by traces of incoming facial hair around his jaw and upper lip. Atop his head rested a curly mat of short brown hair, which looked deliberately unkempt. Perhaps the most significant feature of the technician was his large, hazel eyes that seemed to avoid direct eye contact with Sam as much as possible. In uniform, the man blended astonishingly well into the technological atmosphere and he could have even passed for Mark Zuckerberg, had he not been working for Apple. Overall, the man bore a pleasant disposition.

The worker continued carefully. 

“Well, I’d say the best option at this point would be to purchase a new phone. That would be upwards of five-hundred dollars, but I really can’t guarantee—“

“You can’t seem to promise much, can you?” Sam asked.

The worker looked nervous. He had a light shine of sweat on his forehead, which glistened in the luminous glow of the store’s overhead bulbs. The two men were like ends of a rubber band, separating further from one another through their mutual incompatibility, anticipating any minute for the other to snap. 

Sam broke the tension.

“Look, I really don’t care about the phone so much as what’s in it. How can I retrieve the data?”

“Well, you’d need to send it in to data recovery, which could cost upwards of one-thousand dollars. Seeing as it’s so much…”

The worker continued speaking, but Sam had already tuned out. One-thousand dollars? he thought, Who in their right mind would spend that kind of money on a broken phone? 

Sam hadn’t expected to be here right now asking for an iPhone repair. He hadn’t expected that his iPhone would just die on him, taking with it all the memories he’d ever shared with his mom. He hadn’t expected that the repairs would cost so much. And above all, he hadn’t expected to get the call from Barbara just a few days ago, telling him the news he never thought he’d hear.

Sam leaned closer to the worker, with an increased intensity.

“Hey, man, I’m gonna be honest. My mom just died, and all the memories I have of her are on this damned thing. If it weren’t for the fact that I can’t watch any old videos of her, I might’ve been able to get through these next few weeks.”

He paused, holding back a wave of emotion. The worker shifted uncomfortably.

Sam continued, “My mom was everything to me. So, I ask again…is there anything you can do?”