Love in Bloom Page 13

  “Well, then, watch from here and let’s see if he comes out and eats it.”

  “He won’t be tempted by that. They like the greens,” said Millie. “And I’m not sure bribing him with carrots is going to keep him out of your garden. He seems to have found a way past the fence. I do think you’re going to have to add that chicken wire.”

  Amber heaved a sigh. “This garden is going to cost me a fortune.”

  “Think of it as an investment,” Millie told her. “You get so much from a garden, things that you can’t put a price on.”

  “I want to go look for the bunny,” Seth said, marching out of the garden.

  “You can, but he’ll probably be too scared to come out and get the carrot if he sees you sitting there,” Amber cautioned him.

  “But I won’t hurt him,” said Seth.

  “I know that and you know that, but he doesn’t. We’re a lot bigger than him and he’s scared. He needs time to get brave.”

  Seth sighed and plopped down in the dirt.

  “Would you like to help me plant my pansies, Seth?” Millie offered.

  The child lit up at that and nodded eagerly.

  “Well, come back inside the fence and we’ll settle these in their new home.”

  He was in her garden in a second, trampling the flowers in his eagerness.

  “Seth, watch where you’re stepping,” Amber said.

  “He’s fine,” Millie said, pulling on her garden gloves. She could still remember Debra in the garden with her, patting down soil with pudgy, little hands. As she got older, Debra drifted away from the garden, setting up her headquarters on the lawn and sunning herself on a blanket, painting her nails, reading magazines about beautiful people.

  “I did the farmer’s market yesterday,” Amber announced.

  “Oh? And how did that go?”

  Amber gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Okay. I didn’t realize how many people would be there selling—everything from honey to candles. A lot of people selling baked stuff.”

  “So, the competition was fierce?” guessed Millie.

  Amber gave a half-frown. “You could say that. I think I need to sell something besides banana bread and oatmeal cookies.”

  Millie took a moment to direct Seth in digging a home for the pansies. She looked at them thoughtfully.

  “Got any suggestions?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Millie said slowly. “What about trying something more unique?”

  “Okay,” Amber prompted.

  “Maybe take advantage of garden season. So many flowers are edible, pansies for instance, and they make lovely decorations. Of course, you have to make sure they haven’t been sprayed. I bet you could find some at the Trellis.”

  “Great idea! I could sugar them, put them on cupcakes,” said Amber, catching on.

  “There you go. And maybe incorporate some lavender in your baking? I have a wonderful recipe for lavender cookies I could give you, if you’d like it,” Millie offered.

  “I’ll take it,” said Amber with a decisive nod. “Can you e-mail it to me?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not much good on the computer,” Millie said. “But I’ll copy it out for you, and you can come by one day this week and pick it up if you like. I’ll make tea. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds like a deal,” Amber said, beaming. She looked around the garden, suddenly stumped. “Um. We’re not growing any lavender, are we?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Millie said sadly. “But Hope says that little kitchen shop in town sells lavender sugar.”

  “Perfect. I’ll make a batch of cookies to sell this weekend.” Amber smiled at her. “Millie, I’m sure glad I met you. You’re amazing.”

  It was nice that someone thought so. “I’m happy to help,” she murmured.

  They worked on, Seth chattering happily, the birds serenading them. At last Amber sat back, turned her face up to the sun, and sighed. “You know, I never thought I’d like being in the garden, but there’s something about this that’s, I don’t know, peaceful. I feel like I’m building my own world here.” She shot Millie a mischievous grin. “Do you think that’s what God felt when He was making the Garden of Eden?”

  Millie smiled back. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “Here comes our neighbor,” Amber said, pointing to Hope Walker, who was striding their way, resplendent in jeans and a sleeveless pink top and carrying a little basket full of gardening tools. “It’s about time you got here,” Amber greeted her. “We’ve been at this for hours.”

  Hope waved her hand in salute. “I’ll bet.”

  “You look like spring,” Millie said.

  “Thanks,” said Hope. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather look like.”

  “How’s life?” added Amber.

  “Crazy,” said Hope. “My sister’s moving in with me. And I have a new employee.”

  “Really. Who?” asked Millie.

  “My sister.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of togetherness,” Amber observed.

  “But great fun,” added Millie.

  “It will be,” Hope said, almost sounding like she was still convincing herself of it.

  “I like to have fun,” put in Seth, who was now done with the pansies. He stood up and looked over to the thimbleberry bushes. “Look!”

  The little rabbit had crept out from under the bushes and was now investigating the carrot.

  “I guess the bunny was ready for lunch,” said Amber. “Better that carrot than our veggies.”

  “Oh, he’ll get around to those eventually,” Hope said. “It looks like he’s already snitched some of that lettuce that’s coming up.”

  Amber sighed. “That thing is not a rabbit. It’s a pig dressed up in bunny fur.”

  “I want to go see him,” Seth said.

  “Go really slow,” Amber cautioned. “And don’t get too close. You’ll scare him.”

  Seth nodded and was out of the garden in a bound, then running on tiptoe toward the rabbit.

  Amber returned her attention to Hope. “How did all this stuff with your sister happen?”

  Hope set down her gardening basket. “Well, she lost her job.”

  Amber got suddenly quiet, leaving Millie to carry on the conversation. “It’s really sweet of you to help her out.”

  “She’d do the same for me,” Hope said. “In fact, she’s done a lot for me. I owe her big time. But that’s not why I’m doing this,” she added quickly. “I love my sister. I’m happy to have her working with me. Bobbi does gorgeous arrangements. She’s got a real gift. And people love her. She’ll be wonderful with the customers. And the shop’s getting busier all the time, so I need the help.”

  Millie set down her spade and studied Hope. She was saying all the right things, but . . . “Taking on a full-time employee is a big step.”

  “But it’s a good step. If I get sick again . . .”

  “Sick?” Amber looked questioningly at Hope. “Were you sick?”

  Hope bit her lip.

  Millie kept quiet. It wasn’t her place to say anything. If Hope wanted to share, she would.

  Hope gnawed on her lower lip.

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” Amber said quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, that’s okay. It’s just . . . I had cancer.”

  Amber stared at her. “Oh, no. But you’re too young.”

  Hope ran a hand through the soil in front of her. “I guess somebody forgot to card those cancer cells.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry,” said Amber. “You’ve had it tough.” She lowered her gaze. “It makes losing our restaurant seem like nothing.”

  Hope looked at her in surprise. “You had a restaurant?”

  “Once upon a bad time.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy,” said Hope. “I can’t imagine losing my business.”

  “I don’t want to go through it again, that’s for sure. One time on that ride was enough.”

  “
I hear you,” Hope murmured.

  Millie regarded the two women working companionably alongside her. Debra could learn something from them.

  The women tinkered in their gardens another hour, then Amber threw down her spade and said, “Okay, I’ve had enough. Anybody feel like getting something to drink at Crazy Eric’s? I have a whole six dollars to spend.”

  Hope drew an arm across her damp brow. “That sounds good to me. I’m ready for a break.”

  A break sounded good to Millie, too. Actually, she’d been ready to quit an hour ago, but she’d stayed for the companionship. That probably hadn’t been wise. She felt a little shaky as she got up. You need to pace yourself, she thought, you’re not fifty anymore. But when she was with these girls she could almost believe she was.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were all at Heart Lake’s one-and-only burger joint, nursing diet root beers and watching Seth consume what looked like the world’s largest root beer float.

  Millie wondered what Debra was doing right now. She was probably at the mall, engaging in what she called retail therapy, trying to find the cure for her frustration inside a new purse.

  If you asked Millie, this was true therapy. Enjoying the company of women who were working hard to make their lives better, listening to a child’s laughter.

  A sudden thought hit Millie. When had it become more rewarding to spend time with relative strangers than with her own flesh and blood? And how was it that relative strangers could so quickly begin to feel like relatives?

  It was a bittersweet mystery. Maybe someday she’d solve it. Meanwhile, she’d enjoy this new blessing that was blooming in her life.

  FIFTEEN

  AMBER RETURNED HOME carrying a heart full of hope. She loved it here at Heart Lake. She loved her new friends. And she loved gardening. Okay, not the getting dirty part, and if it wasn’t for the companionship at the community garden, she would die from the tedium of weeding. But feeling the sun on her back, seeing Seth thriving in the fresh air, visiting with her new friends, planning new baking adventures—it all worked like some magical tonic. It filled her with energy, drove her to roll down her car window and sing along with her son’s Veggie Tales CD at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t carry a tune in a flowerpot, but that didn’t bother Seth. He sang right along with her.

  They were still singing when they got out of the car. They came into the house with pink cheeks and smelling like the great outdoors to find Ty stationed at his usual post in front of the TV, looking as white as bread dough.

  “You should come to the garden with us,” said Amber.

  He held up a hand in a no-thanks gesture. “That’s okay.”

  “You look like a zombie.” What a coincidence. He practically was one.

  Or not quite. She noticed the Sunday paper open to the classifieds. Maybe he’d been doing more than chopping vegetables while they were gone.

  He made a face. “Thanks.” Then, “Are you hungry? I’ve sgot stuff cut up for stir-fry.”

  “That sounds good,” she said. What she’d really wanted to say was, “So, have you been looking for work? Did you check anything out on-line?” But she didn’t. The sore subject of Ty’s unemployment was becoming the elephant in the room nobody wanted to acknowledge.

  Actually, there was more than one elephant stomping through the Howell house. Talking about their marriage was even scarier than talking about Ty’s job situation. Better to let that particular elephant crash around and hope that eventually it would move on to someone else’s home. Maybe if she kept following Millie’s advice, it would.

  “This is good,” she said later as they ate Ty’s stir-fry. “Did you make this up?”

  He shrugged. “I just threw in a bunch of stuff.”

  “You throw good,” she said, and managed an encouraging smile.

  “Can I have some more?” asked Seth.

  “Sure, bud,” he said.

  “Pretty soon we’ll have spinach from our garden to cook with, won’t we, Sethie?” said Amber. “Spinach salad, spinach quiche, spinach pie. Spinach cake,” she added, tickling Seth and making him giggle.

  “You’ve actually got things growing?”

  Amber frowned at her husband. Cute. Building up your mate didn’t seem to be a two-way street around here. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  He acknowledged her accomplishment with a grunt.

  She let it go without saying anything, but inside she fumed. At least she was doing something. What was he doing?

  She found out after she’d cleaned up the dinner mess and they’d put Seth to bed.

  “What do you think about moving to Seattle?” Ty said as she turned on the radio.

  Think? She couldn’t think. She could only sit there in shock while Taylor Swift sang about tears on her guitar. “Why?”

  “More restaurants.”

  “It’s not that far to drive from here.”

  He didn’t say anything, just looked out the window at the lake.

  Now that the sun had gone down, Heart Lake had turned into a dark mirror, reflecting the lights from houses on the other side. It looked cozy and romantic, like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. Only the other day she’d been considering pulling up the sticker bushes and trying to plant some flowers around the house, make it look like one of those little cottages that made her want to escape into the picture.

  “Do you have something lined up in Seattle?” she asked, bracing herself.

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Then I don’t understand why you want to move.” Why was he doing this to her?

  “I’m just throwing out ideas,” he said, his voice defensive.

  “Well, can’t you throw out some other ideas? I like it here. I don’t want to move again.”

  That stopped the dialogue. Ty clamped his mouth tighter than the proverbial clam. She could see the muscles along his jaw clenching, a sure sign that he was mad. She supposed if Millie were here she’d advise Amber to go over to where he sat on the couch and give him a hug, tell him that if they wound up having to move she’d go, she’d be there for him. But she didn’t want to move. And right now, she didn’t want to be there for him, either. And she didn’t want to tiptoe around this damned elephant one second longer.

  “You know what,” she said, her voice a snotty dare. “You find a job first and then let’s talk about where we’re going to live. But right now, I’m the only one who’s working. And I’m working here. And I like it here.” This little house wasn’t much, but she had made it her own, hanging her pictures on the wall, scraping together enough money to paint the kitchen a pretty sage green. And she was just finding her feet in this new community. Now he wanted to knock her off her feet. She’d be damned if she’d help him do it.

  She snatched up the latest well-worn issue of Bon Appétit from the coffee table and marched to the bedroom to read, leaving Ty alone with Taylor Swift.

  She read the magazine cover to cover, then turned to her library paperback romance to read about real heroes while Ty sat moping in the living room. The sound of music was long gone and Amber could hear the drone of the TV.

  He never used to watch TV, other than the World Series or an occasional movie. Too much to do, he used to joke. Now watching the tube was the only thing he did. For all she cared, he could get sucked in there and never come out.

  At ten, she turned off the light and burrowed under the covers, hugging her pillow. Her day had started out so great. Why did he have to go and spoil it?

  He came to bed not long after her. She could sense him leaning over her to see if she was awake, but she kept her eyes shut until he settled down with his back to her. The last thing she wanted right now was to talk about her future, and the last person she wanted to talk about it with was him.

  When his breathing finally became deeper and steadier, she opened her eyes and stared into the dark at the everyday things that took on new identities with the night. The old dresser lurked against the wall li
ke a monster waiting to pounce. The chair next to the bed with her clothes draped over it felt like some entity crouching next to her. Sleep, that blessed shield, lay a million blinks away.

  She used to sleep great at night, but those were the days when she snuggled into bed next to Ty wearing nothing but a smile. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to conk out. She started by counting sheep. Somewhere along the way, the sheep morphed into giant bunnies with big, veggie-devouring fangs.

  Okay, that did it. Time to get up. She padded to the kitchen and made herself a cup of chamomile tea, then stood drinking it and looking out the window. If only she could gather all the bad feelings dirtying up the house and throw them in the lake.

  She poured the last half of her tea down the sink with a sigh. What she needed to sleep well couldn’t be put in a mug. She went back to bed and slipped in next to Ty. Then she hugged her pillow and shut her eyes. At least she could pretend to sleep, and maybe, if she pretended long enough, she would.

  At some point she did, but she woke up the next morning feeling unrested and grumpy. She needed mommy R & R. “I’ve got some errands to run,” she told Ty. Her voice was still full of leftover snottiness from the night before, but she didn’t care.

  “Are you taking Seth?” he asked. He sounded stiff, like his jaw had locked in its clenched condition.

  She shook her head. “You guys are on your own.”

  “I was going to drop off some apps.”

  Sure he was. “I’ll be back by noon,” she said. If she didn’t return to find him camped in front of the tube, it would be a miracle.

  Her first stop was Kizzy’s Kitchen, the place to look for lavender sugar to use in her baking. The kitchen shop occupied space in one of the buildings on Lake Way, the downtown’s main street, between Front Porch Furnishings and Something You Need. As with all the shops in town, the street number was painted on a flat, pink, wood heart positioned to the left of the front door. Amber looked at that little heart and thought of one of her mother’s favorite sayings: Home is where the heart is. If that was the case, she and Ty were on the verge of being homeless.