As Love Blooms

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As Love Blooms Page 6

by Lorna Seilstad


  “May I help you?” The lady at the desk looked as if helping them was the last thing she wanted to do. She pulled what Tessa guessed was the club’s logbook closer to her and guarded it like a sentry.

  Tessa approached with all the grace and dignity she’d been taught at the finishing school. “Yes, ma’am, you can. We’re here to join the gardening society.”

  “You?” The lady’s nasally voice echoed in the foyer.

  “Yes, my sisters and I.” Tessa’s back stiffened. “The club is open to all, is it not?”

  “Of course, but there is the matter of the yearly dues of two dollars. For each of you.” Her gaze swept to Charlotte and Hannah.

  “Two dollars?” Hannah stepped forward.

  Tessa clenched the chain of her purse. Although she had the money inside it, the price seemed a bit steep to her. Were all new members quoted that amount?

  “If it’s a problem, there is a Community Garden Club on Snelling for which the dues are only twenty cents a year. Perhaps that would be more fitting.”

  Anger began to flicker inside Tessa. This woman didn’t know if they had twenty cents or twenty dollars, but since she didn’t recognize them, she judged them unworthy of her club.

  The creaking of the front door drew Tessa’s attention. Aunt Sam, thankfully wearing a tasteful lavender suit rather than her cycling bloomers, breezed inside. Only a slight limp remained from her apoplexy. “Dears, why aren’t you meeting the other members already? I’m sure the program is about to begin.”

  The lady at the desk sucked in her breath. “Mrs. Phillips?”

  “Yes, that’s me.” Aunt Sam removed her tan kid gloves.

  “Thank you for joining us,” the lady gushed. “Are these lovely young ladies with you? I was explaining about our club’s dues.”

  “Oh?” She eyed each sister. “Is there a problem?”

  “She thought we might be more comfortable at the Community Garden Club,” Tessa said.

  “Is that so? While I’m sure you ladies would fit in anywhere, I think we’ll join this club. It’s closer to home. Now, about those dues.”

  “It’s”—the lady coughed into her gloved hand—“two dollars per person, ma’am.”

  “Then ten dollars will more than cover all four of us.” Aunt Sam opened her purse, pulled out a bill, and dropped it onto the desk. “Girls, shall we?”

  The lady pushed the logbook forward. “But you need to sign—”

  Aunt Sam waved the book away. “We’ll take care of that after the meeting. We don’t want to miss anything. You’ve delayed us long enough.”

  Like ducklings, Tessa and her sisters followed Aunt Sam into the meeting room. They found four empty seats in the center. Many ladies noticed their arrival, but only a handful introduced themselves. Tessa sighed. Breaking into this circle was going to be harder than she’d thought.

  The club’s president, Eleanor Bates, stepped to the podium and pounded her gavel more times than necessary to draw everyone’s attention. Then her gaze landed on Aunt Sam. Disapproval flickered across her face, but she quickly seemed to stem it. “I see we have some new members. Mrs. Phillips, would you care to introduce yourself and the ladies joining you?”

  Aunt Sam stood. “With pleasure, Eleanor. I’m Mrs. Phillips, and these three young ladies are my nieces—Mrs. Lincoln Cole, who’s an attorney, Mrs. Joel Brooks, who’s the chef in charge of City Hospital’s kitchen, and Miss Tessa Gregory, who is studying horticulture at college.”

  Polite applause echoed throughout the hall.

  “So pleased you could join us.” Mrs. Bates’s words struck a false note, making Tessa flinch. “Now, ladies, it’s my honor to introduce today’s guest speaker. Leroy Boughner of Minneapolis is part of the American Civic Association. Last February, he spoke at the organization’s national meeting, outlining a program he began in Minneapolis known as the vacant lot gardens campaign. I’ll let him tell you the rest.”

  Mr. Boughner didn’t stand behind the podium but addressed the ladies from the stage. His broad hand gestures displayed his enthusiasm for the project, and from the way he self-consciously tugged at his lapels, Tessa surmised he was probably more comfortable in work clothes.

  “By the end of 1911,” he said, “we had planted vegetables and flowers in 360 vacant lots. We gave out 28,000 cabbage and tomato plants and 22,000 packets of nasturtium seeds.”

  He went on to explain how with the garden club acting as intermediary, every vacant lot on Hennepin Avenue had been cleaned and planted with grass and flowers.

  The more he spoke, the more excitement bubbled through Tessa. What a wonderful idea!

  “We’d like to expand this program to Saint Paul. The city will be divided into six districts, and a student from the Minnesota Farm School will serve as an assistant gardener. We’re asking clubs like yours to help. We need people who are experienced with gardening to teach those in the communities how to plant and tend their gardens.”

  Tessa clasped her hands together and smiled at her sisters.

  Mr. Boughner’s gaze swept over the club members. “Would any of you like to volunteer to help work in these gardens?”

  Tessa’s hand shot up.

  Alone.

  She shot a plea toward her sisters. They looked at one another, shrugged, and raised their hands as well.

  “Thank you, ladies. Anyone else?”

  Nervous chatter indicated how uncomfortable the ladies were at the idea.

  Mrs. Bates rose from her seat on the front row. “I believe I can speak for the club in offering a ten-dollar donation to the cause.”

  The ladies applauded.

  Ten dollars? That was all? Besides, Mr. Boughner had asked for gardeners, not money.

  Aunt Sam lifted her hand in the air. “I’d like to make a challenge. I will give five dollars to this most worthy endeavor for each lady in this room who actually gets her hands dirty by assisting in this civic project.”

  Tessa did a quick calculation. There were nearly forty women in the room. If half of them helped, Aunt Sam was committing to a hundred dollar donation.

  “Ma’am, that’s an incredibly generous offer!” Mr. Boughner grinned like a fool. “Now, I’d like to ask again, who would like to volunteer?”

  A dirt clod–sized lump formed in Tessa’s stomach. What if no one else volunteered? If this made the ladies feel guilty, they might ostracize her. Then how would she ever influence them in the conservatory’s favor? Please, God, make them volunteer.

  One by one, hands went up until Tessa was certain more than half had agreed to help. Mr. Boughner directed them all to leave their names and telephone numbers with him so he could organize the efforts. As soon as the meeting was dismissed, he hurried over to speak to Aunt Sam. “Ma’am, thank you again for your pledge.”

  “It’s my pleasure, young man.”

  He turned toward Tessa. “And thank you for being the first brave soul to volunteer. I heard your aunt say you are studying horticulture. We can certainly use your talents to organize the others. May I call on you to help me organize the ladies into teams?”

  Oh no. Not another commitment. Tessa looked to her two sisters, her eyes begging for assistance in getting out of the predicament.

  Hannah grinned. “It is a worthy cause, Tessa.”

  “Yes, very.” Charlotte linked her arm with Tessa’s. “She’ll be glad to help.”

  “Thank you. I look forward to working with you.”

  After Mr. Boughner said goodbye to all four of them, Tessa turned to her sisters. “Why did you say I’d be glad to help?”

  Charlotte placed her hand on Tessa’s arm. “You’re the one who’s so anxious to be taken seriously. This will be a great chance to show the club how important gardening is to you.”

  “And the busier you are, the less apt you are to get into trouble,” Hannah added with a grin.

  Aunt Sam pulled her gloves back on. “You should be thanking them. I thought he was rather cute.”

  Charl
otte giggled. “And I think he liked you.”

  Good heavens, another man in her life was the last thing she needed right now.

  Mrs. Bates strutted toward their circle. Every nerve in Tessa’s body seemed to pulsate as the president approached.

  “Miss Gregory.” Mrs. Bates elongated her name in an unnatural fashion. “I hear you’re going to be heading things up on the club’s behalf. You’re a rather ambitious young lady, aren’t you? You must be a great deal like your aunt.”

  Tessa flashed the woman a saucy grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  Toasted almonds scented the air. Reese drew in a deep breath and smiled as Sonja Swenhaugen set a piping hot piece of cake before him and another in front of her husband Erik.

  Reese cut a bite with his fork, speared it, and slipped it between his lips. The butter-rich delicacy melted on his tongue and he moaned. “You’re spoiling me, Sonja.”

  “If you get yourself a wife, I won’t have to.” She lifted an enameled pot from the stove and refilled his coffee cup.

  “I could never find someone who can bake like you.” Reese raised the corner of his lip in a cheeky smile.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and sat down at the table. “I’m sure you’d find my neighbor’s daughter Inga to your liking. I only wish you’d let me introduce the two of you. She’s such a sweet girl.”

  “And she’s plump, so I bet she can bake quite well—or at least eat quite well.” Erik laughed and downed his coffee. “Momma, leave poor Reese alone and let him enjoy his fyrstekake.”

  Reese set down his fork and took a swallow of coffee. “Fristakaka?”

  “It means royalty cake, and it’s my favorite. I could eat it every day.”

  “And if you did, you’d look like Inga.” Sonja patted her husband’s arm. “Now, Reese, about finding you a wife.”

  Erik pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “Momma, let him be. He’s already met a girl.”

  “You have!” Sonja’s eyes widened. “Tell me about her. Is she pretty? Does she have a pleasant disposition? Can she work like a man if she needs to?”

  Reese chuckled to himself. Tessa could even look like a man—or at least a boy—if she needed to. He took in Sonja’s hopeful expression and wished Erik wasn’t so incredibly honest with his blonde-haired bride of fifteen years. “I mentioned to Erik I’d met a girl named Tessa, but she’s just a friend.”

  “And is she pretty?”

  Reese swallowed the last of his coffee. “Even in overalls.”

  “Overalls?” Sonja scowled. “What kind of girl is this Tessa?”

  “Tessa knows no limits.” He chuckled. “But don’t worry, Sonja. She’s just a friend.”

  “Friends sometimes become more.”

  Erik laid his hand on her shoulder. “Let him be, Momma. He came over here on his day off to help me put a new roof on the shed, not answer all of your questions.”

  “That may be, but someone has to look out for him.” She paused as Reese stood. “Promise me you’ll be careful with this girl. She may bring you great happiness or she may bring you terrible grief.”

  Erik swung the back door open and laughed. “Or she may bring you a little of both.”

  How true, but that was enough talk about Tessa. She invaded his thoughts enough without Sonja’s help.

  Reese thanked his hostess for the cake, then headed outside. He located the ladder and propped it against the shed. Erik opened the shed’s door to reveal the shingles they’d be using. Reese heaved a bundle onto his shoulder and began the climb to the roof, and Erik followed behind him with a bundle of his own. They worked in silence for nearly half an hour with the steady ring of a hammer filling the warm spring air.

  Erik leaned back and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “You’ve grown quiet, my young friend. Did Momma’s questions bother you? You know, she was only teasing about your Tessa.”

  “She’s not my Tessa, and yes, I know Sonja was teasing me.”

  Erik moved to the ladder. “We need another bundle, but when I get back, I want to hear about why your young lady friend was wearing overalls. There must be a story in there.”

  Reese grabbed another shingle. “There is, but for the time being, I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

  Thank goodness Erik honored his request, because if he’d pressed him, Reese probably would have spilled everything about the overall-clad girl who filled his dreams.

  10

  Why Reese found himself at Como Park after church services this morning was a mystery even to him. A niggling feeling had surfaced every time he thought of the park, and he’d grown to appreciate those moments as coming straight from the Lord. But why had the Lord prompted him to come here today on his day off?

  Still dressed in his blue serge suit, he began a trek down Banana Walk. The fruit trees and other palms were adjusting well to being moved from the hothouse outdoors, even if the days weren’t quite hot enough yet to keep the plants truly happy.

  He paused to touch the soil of the ferns. It needed more water. He needed to check on who’d been assigned to use the pumper on Friday.

  After turning in the direction of the park office, he stopped on the path. Tessa? He watched the young lady approach. Gone were her overalls. They’d been replaced by an attractive ivory dress with a belt that accentuated her small waist. A huge matching ivory hat—decked with more silk roses than the east garden and bearing an enormous matching bow—dipped alluringly to the right.

  He whistled softly. Today Miss Gregory was all young lady, and if he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit he liked what he saw. A lot.

  But why was she here?

  Their gazes connected, sending a jolt through his chest. She flashed him a wide smile and walked toward him. “Reese, isn’t Sunday your day off?”

  “I could say the same thing to you.” He cleared his throat. Normally words came easy when he was with her. Why was it so hard to talk to her today?

  “I wanted to check on our garden. I know it’s silly, but I had a feeling I should come to the park today.”

  Chill bumps crept up Reese’s neck.

  “What about you?”

  “No reason.” Reese stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes. “Shall we go take a look together? Then maybe I can show you some of the other parts of the park.”

  She clasped her hands together at her waist. “Oh, Reese, I would love that.”

  “Good.”

  Good? That was the best he could do?

  He offered her the crook of his arm. She didn’t hesitate before slipping her hand in place. He covered it with his own and tucked her arm against his side, his chest warming at the contact.

  What was Tessa doing to him? No girl had ever affected him this way. He’d stepped out with more than one girl in the last few years, but none of them turned him into a blithering idiot. Tessa simply had a way about her that drew him in.

  She squeezed his arm. “I’m so excited. I’ve yet to explore the whole park.”

  “It’s twenty-two acres, Tessa. I don’t think we can explore all of it today.”

  “Then you’ll just have to promise me more days like this one.”

  For some reason the idea of doing that made him much happier than it should have. He’d better be careful or Tessa was going to have him under her spell by the end of the day.

  But magic was only an illusion, and he wanted the real thing.

  Dust motes danced in the air, suspended in a May sunbeam. Tessa released a contented sigh from her seat on a park bench beside Reese. Strains of “The Land of Golden Dreams” came from the bandstand. The round, open building was built on pilings and set out in the water of Lake Como as if on giant stilts.

  The trills of the flutes echoed off the water, and Tessa let the music feed her fantasy. She imagined the dust motes as fairies, flitting around on the wind.

  She glanced at Reese, and a smile crooked her
mouth. She doubted he ever thought about such whimsical creatures. As much as she was given to a flight of fancy, he seemed rooted to reality, and she found that quiet strength oddly attractive.

  So far, their day had been entrancing. He’d shown her the Schiffman Fountain with its cast-iron mermaid spouting water from the seashell in her hands, and the Mannheimer Memorial. The wooden pergola, resting on marble columns, sat on a hill and held a sparkling white fountain.

  They’d laughed at the children running through the recently constructed playground. He’d shown her the statue of Henrik Ibsen, donated by the Sons of Norway, and the elephant topiary, situated on an island in the center of Cozy Lake. When the band concluded, he told her they would return to Cozy Lake, south of Lake Como.

  Reese had proved a most attentive, almost flirtatious companion, but he was probably being kind. A solid man like Reese wouldn’t find a whimsical girl like her of any great interest.

  “Tessa?” Reese waved his hand in front of her face.

  She blinked and laughed. When had the music stopped? “Sorry. I was distracted.”

  “By?”

  By you. Her cheeks warmed. She stood and adjusted her skirt. “I was thinking about the dust motes.”

  “Dust motes.” He didn’t pursue the topic but instead directed Tessa down the long, classical concrete pergola west of the lakeside pavilion. They passed beneath the canopy of red and yellow climbing roses, their sweet fragrance cloying the air.

  “Okay, I may regret asking this, but I have to know. Why were you thinking about the dust motes?”

  “They reminded me of fairies.” She grinned. “Do you regret asking me already?”

  “Not yet. Go on.”

  “I was once in a production of Peter Pan at the Metropolitan Opera House. Don’t look so impressed. I was only the nanny, so my part was small, but the specks floating in the sunbeam reminded me of Tinker Bell and her fairy dust.”

  He chuckled. “And what would you sprinkle fairy dust on right now? Would you have the fairies carry us away to Paris or the Orient?”

  “No.” She looked at him from beneath the brim of her hat, butterflies colliding in her stomach. “This day is perfect as it is.”

 

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