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in my own bed or not. Certainly no one would care.
    “In fact,” Jake said, “I think you should stay the whole weekend.” He looked at his mother who nodded her strong agreement.
    “Oh, I couldn’t!” But the thought of being around these caring, thoughtful people instead of alone with the nightmares of today was so attractive.
    “Certainly you could,” said Mary. “Please stay.”
    Esther nodded.
    I wondered what the sleeping John and Elam would think when they rose at dawn and found yet another English girl invading their house. I decided suddenly that I didn’t care. I had cried out to God that I couldn’t handle my memories, that I needed help. He had given me the Zooks.
    “Yes,” I said, feeling tears again, but this time they were good tears. “I’d love to stay.”
    “Okay,” Jake said. “Finish your tea, and I’ll drive you to your place to get whatever you need.”
    “That’s okay,” I said automatically. “I can get the things myself.”
    “No, Rose, you can’t.” Jake’s tone of voice brooked no argument.
    I argued anyway. “I’ll zip right over and be back in no time.” I stood.
    “You really have a hard time accepting help, don’t you?” He wheeled directly in front of me, blocking my exit.
    “Jake,” Mary murmured. “She’s had a hard day.”
    “She’s got a hard head, you mean.”
    I was stung by his comment. “I do not! It’s just that I can take care of myself.”
    “Who said you couldn’t?”
    “You!” I stared daggers at him.
    “All I did was offer to take you so you wouldn’t have to drive, upset as you are. I was being nice, for heaven’s sake!”
    “Yeah. Right. Such a fine gentleman.” I flushed, immediately ashamed of my sarcasm. He was being nice.
    “Rose, you will let me drive you. You will come along quietly. You will stop being so hardheaded.” He said it all through clenched teeth.
    “Rose,” Esther said quietly, “you must allow Jake to help you. You mustn’t deny him that blessing.”
    I stared at her. Helping me would be a blessing to Jake? There was a novel idea. While I wasn’t convinced, I recognized a better part of wisdom is knowing when you’re beaten.
    “You’re right, Esther.” I offered her a weak smile. When I looked at Jake, I couldn’t quite sustain the smile. “Thanks, Jake,” I said stiffly.
    I’ll give Jake credit. He didn’t gloat, not even once, as we went out to his van.
    He drove with confidence and competence, his hands quick on the controls. He parked in front of the house where I had a small apartment on the second floor. I ran in, grabbed a duffel bag, and packed for the weekend. I stashed two novels and my Bible on top of my clothes. As I pulled the front door closed, I was glad I wasn’t going to be here alone for two days.
    We made the entire trip back to the farm in silence, but it was a comfortable hush that spoke of friendship and ease. All of my anger was long gone as was his frustration with my immature refusal of help. I guess one definition of friendship could be when one friend sees the other at her worst and doesn’t hold it against her.
    Jake left me at the foot of the stairs to his parents’ house. There he whispered, “Sleep well, Rose.”
    I bent and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry for being so ungrateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you, and I don’t know how to thank you.”
    As I straightened, he ran a finger down my cheek. “Then don’t try.” And he wheeled away.
    When I woke the next morning, I lay in bed staring at walls so white they shimmered in the sunlight. I shivered in the crisp cold and pulled the quilt, a patchwork of crimson and blue calicos, more tightly about my shoulders. I turned my head and saw a cluster of white, yellow, and ruby mums, surely the last of the season, squished rather inelegantly into a Mason jar. I hadn’t even noticed them last night, but I imagined Esther had brought them for me from her own room.
    I was in the apartment