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Anna discovers she can afford an apartment of her own.

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When Anna and Michael entered the living room, Paul smiled. "I see the sweet potatoes didn't cause permanent damage. He's his original color. Did you give Betty his clothes so she could soak them?"

"I'm going to do that now."

Margaret smiled. "While you're doing that let me rock him. He looks tired. If he falls asleep, I'll put him down for a nap."

Anna handed her Michael. "I'm used to doing everything myself. I don't know how to handle all this help." She glanced at the orange outfit in her hand. "I'd better get this in some cold water." She headed toward the kitchen.

With Betty's help, Anna treated the outfit with stain remover, before she put it in the washer with detergent. Anna glanced out the window. "What are those gorgeous deep red and yellow flowers?"

"They're 'Indian Blankets'. If you'd like, you can step outside and get a closer look."

Anna opened the glass sliding door and went outside.

Troy walked up behind her. "I've been meaning to ask. The day before you went to Aunt Margaret's did you call me at work? I had to go out of town for the day. When I returned, there were three calls but no messages. I tried to return them, but it was blocked."

"No. One of the rules is I don't use the phone and I don't have a cellphone. My purse and briefcase are at the house. I don't have your number."

"I'll correct that." He removed a card from his wallet and handed it to her. "Anytime you need something, call. I'm serious."

Anna took the card and put it in her jeans pocket. "Thank you." She bent, picked a flower, and held it to her nose. "Smells good."

"Would you like to know the story behind the flower?" After she nodded, he continued, "It has two, I'll share the most popular one first." He moved two lounge chairs closer to the garden and in the shade. "It'll take a while. Have a seat."

After they sat, he began his story, "I'll tell you the short version. There was an old Native American basket weaver who wished to thank the Great Spirit for the many gifts he'd received throughout the years. The old man crushed berries and roots, then dyed cotton threads the colors of the gorgeous sunset. He wove the most exquisite blanket ever made. At his request, he was buried in this yellow, red, and brown blanket so he could present his gift to his Maker. In return, the Great Spirit covered the land with this flower, which displays the colors of the sunset, just like the blanket."

Anna smiled. "Where did you learn this legend?"

"Growing up I helped Mom with her flower garden, she would tell me each flower's story." He picked a flower that was almost entirely yellow. "Now, for the lesser known version. 'Indian Blankets' used to be mostly yellow like this one." He held it out. "Once upon a time there was a beautiful Indian maiden, who had these yellow flowers growing all around her tepee." He grinned. "I bet she looked a lot like you."

Anna blushed.

He continued, "This beautiful maiden was the great chief's only child. Although he loved his daughter very much, he was very strict. Just like all beautiful maidens she had a problem. She lived in fear of upsetting her father and losing his love. This maiden suffered from low self-esteem, feeling she could do nothing right. She felt she was not as intelligent as others and was unworthy of love."

Tears welled in Anna's eyes. She stood and started to walk off.

Troy picked a flower with deep red petals and handed it to her. When she stopped, he said, "Eventually this Indian maiden was surrounded with people and a brave warrior, who loved her. With their help, she realized she was very smart and her confidence grew. The young maiden conquered her insecurities. The flowers around her began to grow deep red petals. Just like the flower you're holding."

"You made that up. Didn't you?" Anna dried her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, but in my heart it's the true story of the 'Indian Blankets'." He looked toward the patio. "I'd better help start the grill." He walked away.

Anna stared at the deep red flower. I wonder if I could be that Indian maiden. Can I really make decisions and take care of Michael and myself? She glanced toward Troy. He thinks I can. Is he my brave warrior? She sighed. I'd better check on Michael.

As Anna walked onto the patio, Troy took the flower from her hand and placed it in her hair. "It looks perfect against your auburn hair."

"Thank you." She blushed and swallowed loudly. "I need to check on my son."

Troy opened the glass sliding door for her and called, "Mom, how close is Dad to starting the pork chops?"

"I don't know. He ran to the store. Michael's low on formula and diapers."

"No. It isn't right. You are doing too much for me." Anna crossed her arms over her chest.

"Just like the Indian maiden, she's finding her strength and speaking up. Soon the color will become a deeper red." A grin erupted across Troy's lips.

Anna glared at him. "You're incorrigible."

Troy shrugged. "Just call it like I see it."

Could he be right? Anna sighed.