“We’re doing fine, thanks for asking. I’m just calling to wish you and Bradley a happy anniversary.” Donovan didn’t know how to respond, since this was the first time in six years the Slaton’s had acknowledged their civil union. Their original stance, as he heard it through the grapevine, was that since the marriage wasn’t legally recognized in most states, they didn’t intend to recognize it either. After a short silence, Mrs. Slaton cleared her throat. “This is the right day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.” Donovan’s shock quickly turned to gratitude. “It means a lot to me to hear from you today.” They made small talk for a few minutes until Bradley walked through the door, on time as usual.
“Hi,” Donovan said, covering the receiver as they exchanged a quick smooch. “Telephone for you.” He handed him the phone, not wanting to spoil the surprise of the conversation that awaited him. Seeing Bradley’s face light up as he spoke to his mother was an extra gift.
Donovan brought a meal to the dining room that would make Martha Stewart jealous. He lit the candle in the centerpiece he’d bought that afternoon at the cute little flower shop down the street. Yes, this was certainly a special anniversary.
Darci needed some cheering up after she went over the books. April was the first month since she’d opened Petal Pushers that they’d spent so much more than they brought in. Business was still steady, word of her floral talent and personal touches spreading with each order she filled. The problem was the truckloads of slips she bought, since this was the season to plant annuals and perennials after the last frost. That usually happened by the fifteenth, except this year the last frost didn’t occurred until the twenty-eighth, which set her projected sales margin back by two weeks.
She fidgeted with her red pencil, the one she used to write negative balances in the ledger, and reminded herself that business was doing exceptionally well for only having been open four short months. “Damn it,” she sputtered, startled when the pencil broke in two.
The splintered pieces clanged into the trash can under the counter. Unable to stand another moment working on the ledger, she turned her attention to the parakeet. “Well, Daisy,” she said as the bird stepped onto her finger and waddled up to sit on her shoulder, “if the weather doesn’t warm up pretty soon, I guess we can market a line of birdseed to bring in some extra bucks.”
Petal Pushers’ Plant of the Month for April is
Daffodil
Narcissus hybrids
Perennial Bulb
Common name: Easter flower, Narcissus, and Jonquil.
Brief description: Daffodils vary in height from six inches to two feet. They come in yellow, orange, white, or a combination of those colors, in single and double varieties. Most are scented. This plant is very popular and easy to grow, and can be seen blooming all over the place around Easter. Hoyt Simms’ mom, Genevieve, has more varieties blooming in her yard than I’ve ever seen in one location, so you might want to drive by her home on West Elm Street and take a look.
Symbolism: chivalry, unrequited love, respect, and friendship. It’s used as an icon for cancer research.
Trivia: A very old flower first mentioned around 300 BC, the daffodil originated in the area of the Mediterranean Sea. popular in literature, mentioned in works by William Wordsworth, Tennessee Williams, and e. e. cummings.
Growing instructions: Full sun is best, but these bulbs also do well in dappled shade. Plant these in fall, about twice as deep as the height of the bulbs, six to nine inches apart. If you’re going for a naturalized look, toss a handful in the air and plant where they land. These multiply pretty fast, so you can divide the clumps after a few years.
Uses: Scatter daffodils around your yard, under trees and along borders for a sunny burst of color in the spring. They can be grown in containers and make excellent cut flowers.
Tools & Tips: April is a good time to start gardening. You can buy fancy plant markers if you really want, so you can tell your petunias from your squash, but I have a cheaper alternative that works just as well. (Just ask my cousin Charlotte the next time you’re in the shop, and she’ll be quick to tell you about my frugal ways.) I use a Sharpie marker to label Popsicle sticks with the names of the seeds or slips I plant, and stick them in the ground right beside them. Not fancy but it works, and they’ll blend into the background when your garden grows.
Chapter 5. May
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash’d palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
with many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle - and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color’d blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
~ Walt Whitman
Charlotte’s sigh drew Darci’s attention away from her paperwork. “Something wrong?” Her normally boisterous cousin wore a forlorn expression, her eyes fixed on a cup of raspberry tea at the other end of the counter. She’d been drinking that stuff by the gallon lately, with plenty of honey to cover the bitter taste she said reminded her of chicory. Darci thought hormones must be messing with her taste buds, since the tea tasted fine to her by itself.
Darci’s jaw dropped open when Charlotte burst into tears, something as far removed from her personality as Vin Diesel dancing Swan Lake in a pink tutu. “What’s the matter,” she asked, passing her a box of Kleenex.
“Oh my God, Darce. What the hell have I done? I don’t think Jimbo and me are ready to be parents.” Charlotte blew her nose, threw the saturated Kleenex in the trashcan under the desk, then plucked two more from the box.
“Um, I hate to break it to you, but it’s sort of too late to back out now, Miss Preggers.” Darci patted her on the back, trying to get her to settle down. She hoped the baby was alright. Charlotte was the closest thing she’d ever have to a sister, and they’d been as thick as thieves growing up. She hated seeing her so upset. “Just calm down and tell me what’s on your mind that’s got you so worked up.”
“I don’t think I know what I’m doing. Maybe we’re just not responsible enough to take care of a baby yet.” Charlotte wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks as if they were flies buzzing around her head. “Remember that goldfish I won at the county fair when we were like fourteen? I named her Bubbles?”
“Hey, yeah. I do remember that now.” Darci smiled at the memory from their childhood. “You kept it in a glass beer mug by your bed. Your mom’s cat got to her one day when we were at school, right?”
“No. That’s just the story I made up because I felt so bad,” she sniffled, then buried her head in her hands, sobbing even harder. “I forgot to feed the fish and she croaked. I saw her when I woke up one morning, floating belly up in her glass beside an unopened box of fish flakes.” She let out a Lucille Ball style wail. Darci could barely understand her through the tears. “Oh my God, I’m so stupid I couldn’t even take care of a damn goldfish. I killed Bubbles!”
“Oh. My. Goodness.” There were very few times when Darci found herself speechless. Hugging her pregnant cousin as she mourned the death of a fish who died twenty years ago seemed to be one of those times. She opened and closed her mouth until she thought of something to say. “It was just a fish. It’s okay.”
“Yeah, but how much different is a fish from that egg experiment thing they make kids do in Home Ec? The one where they pretend it’s a baby and they get an ‘F’ if the shell gets cracked or some smartass eats it.” Just when Darci thought Charlotte was about to settle down, the floodgates opened again and out came another Lucy groan. “When Bubbles starved to death, I might as well have eaten my baby.” She laid her head on the counter and bawled.
“Charlotte, honey, you’re gonna have to calm down.” Afraid Charlotte was about to make herself sick, Darci decided to use a firmer tone of voice. “Get a grip. What you’re feelin
g are normal pre-baby jitters. Take a few deep breaths and let it pass.”
Charlotte lifted her head and mopped her tears with a soggy tissue. “You think so?” The crying slowed to ragged sniffles, her lip quivering slower and slower as she struggled to get a hold of herself. “This is normal?”
“Pretty much.” The dead goldfish part was kind of bizarre, but Darci wasn’t going to mention that just now. She scooted her chair beside Charlotte’s and sat down. “Most of us have some kind of meltdown before the baby comes, so don’t worry about it. I woke up one morning when I was seven months pregnant with Paxton and got hysterical. The only thing that kept running through my mind was ‘what if I can’t tell when he’s hungry’. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I would know when the kid wanted to eat. How stupid was that?” Darci laughed, but Charlotte’s eyes grew bigger.
“So, how did you know when to feed Paxton? I hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m not giving you something else to worry about. I’m trying to show you how ridiculous the idea was. The kid will scream his freakin’ head off when he gets hungry. Unless you’ve got industrial strength earplugs, no way are you and Jimbo going to sleep through it.”
“What if the baby gets that thing, that colic I read about in my Mommy 2 B book? I read a bunch of stuff about it, but I still don’t really understand what the hell I’m supposed to do if the kid starts that non-stop screaming.”
“If the baby gets colic, you can always bring him or her into the shop. We can set up the playpen over there by the porthole and let our resident ghost take care of it. If she can bring plants back from the dead, she should be able to cure a little tummy ache. Just think of all the money you can save on medical bills.”
Charlotte glared at her, apparently unamused by Darci’s attempt to lighten the mood.
An icy warning settled on the back of her neck, the chill lingering even as Darci attempted to warm her nape with the palm of her hand. She figured she’d better change the subject and wipe the grin off her face before Charlotte knocked it off, or the ghost gave her a bad case of frostbite. “Okay, so what did the article say you should do?”
“Put the car seat on a washing machine set to the spin cycle, but that just sounded kind of dumb.” Charlotte must have felt a little better because her eyes twinkled. “Jimbo and me did something else on our washing machine when we were trying to conceive the kid, but that’s a whole other story.”
The second Saturday in May meant Prom time for local high school students. With kids coming in to order corsages and boutonnieres for weeks preceding the dance, Petal Pushers stayed busy. After some urging from his buddy Hoyt, the chairman of the decorating committee hired Darci to make all the swags, centerpieces, and balloons, plus a special display beside which the photographer would snap pictures of teenage couples decked out in their formal attire and goofy grins.
Darci was exhausted, but gleefully so. Business boomed right along, with a steady stream of customers flowing through to buy vegetable slips and annuals from the greenhouse to plant in their gardens and flower beds. Darci didn’t mind the extra work at all, since she and Hoyt were perfectly capable of handling it themselves. Charlotte was just seven weeks away from her due date, so Darci hated to ask her to do anything more strenuous than answering the phone. Charlotte insisted she loved her job and enjoyed getting out of the house while she was still able to, but it was obvious she’d hit the point in her pregnancy where comfort pretty much eluded her.
On Prom morning, Charlotte dealt with excited teenagers who came in to pick up corsages to bedeck their gowns and rental tuxedos. Darci took a vanload of decorations to the high school gymnasium, Hoyt having hauled the balloons over by himself beforehand. A swarm of eager kids from the decorating committee helped unload everything, then did a nice job of setting things up.
Darci insisted on working on the photographer’s backdrop herself, to make sure the potted elephant ear and birds of paradise conveyed the tropical feel the senior class picked for their theme. A wave of nostalgia hit Darci before she left; she wished she and Wade could sneak in and crash the fun. The idea got funnier the more she thought about it, since it was something Charlotte might very well try to pull off-if she’d been hitting the tequila instead of being seven months pregnant. Oh well, they’d just have to be satisfied to live vicariously through Hoyt this time, who she and Charlotte would grill for Prom details come Monday.
When she arrived back at the shop that afternoon, she held the door open for a cute teenage girl. She recognized her since she’d been in the shop a few times before, to hang fresh SADD posters in the front window, but today she carried a red carnation in a small clear-plastic box. Darci stifled a sigh and imagined the memories the girl would make tonight after she pinned the boutonniere to her boyfriend’s lapel. “Have fun at the Prom.”
“Great news,” Charlotte announced as soon as Darci walked behind the counter. “I do believe I’ve finally found the person to hire as a babysitter, one of Hoyt’s friends. You just passed her on your way in.”
Ashley Rosales had dreamed of Prom night ever since she was in fourth grade and watched her older cousin Gloria transform herself from a soccer-playing tomboy into a gown-wearing princess. Tonight, it was Ashley’s turn to be Cinderella.
She wanted to roll the windows down on her Mustang, to breathe the fresh air on this beautiful spring day. Unfortunately, she couldn’t risk messing up her hair-do. Good thing the light wind hadn’t tousled it when she made her pit stop at Petal Pushers. Two hours of her life had gone into sitting in the Hair Dare Your ‘Do Salon, having her hair washed, conditioned, blow-dried, set on hot rollers, then arranged in place with bobby pins after a few tresses were wrapped around the barrel of a curling iron. The vent would be as close as she was going to come to feeling a fresh breeze in the car. Ashley cranked up her Nickelback CD and daydreamed about the Prom on her way home, picturing herself as a fairytale princess. Her heart raced when she thought of Jordan Cooley, her very own Prince Charming.
Ashley and Jordan had been dating for about three months now. She’d had boyfriends before, but none who made her feel as special as Jordan did. She could tell by his sincere words and actions that he loved her, that he didn’t just feel sorry for her like some of the other kids.
“They’re coming up the driveway, Ash,” her mom called up the stairs later that evening. “Are you ready, or do you want me to stall them for a few minutes?”
“Be right down,” Ashley called back, happiness and excitement ringing in her voice. She smiled at her reflection in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. The lavender gown brought out her green eyes, and the matching pumps were actually comfortable. All the practice she’d put into walking would come in handy tonight; she was confident she wouldn’t limp or fall on her face. She paused in front of her dresser for a last minute touch-up, then lifted the chestnut waves that fell over her right shoulder to apply a little more concealer to the scar on the side of her neck. Her mother said it wasn’t noticeable, but Ashley still felt self-conscious about it. She fluffed her hair with her fingers-no way she’d run a brush through these hairspray-shellacked ringlets and risk dragging out the curls-dabbed on a touch more lip gloss, and blotted her kisser on a Kleenex before she headed downstairs.
She’d never seen the bunch so dressed up before. They looked like movie stars ready to stroll down the red carpet. Ashley’s dad snapped a ton of pictures as she and Jordan stood flanked by the other two couples, Ashley’s best friend Amber and Hoyt to their left, and Kirsten and Eddie to their right. I’m so lucky to have made it to this night, Ashley thought, sandwiched between her friends, straining not to blink at the flash.
A black stretch limo carried the three couples to a posh restaurant in downtown Henderson. Fear of dribbling food on her gown didn’t dull Ashley’s appetite as she savored each and every bite. While Amber nibbled a Caesar salad and drank water because it wouldn’t stain her ebony cockt
ail dress, Ashley chowed down on pineapple-grilled chicken and mushroom risotto, which she washed down with a glass of sweet tea. All the guys opted for steak and potatoes, a meal for the macho as Hoyt called it. When the dessert cart rolled around, Amber shot an envious glance towards Ashley’s Bananas Foster.
“Ugh, this mess-proof macaroon just doesn’t measure up to that. Guess it’s the price I have to pay for not ruining the dress I worked all winter to pay for.” Amber bit off a piece of her somewhat dry coconut cookie without much enthusiasm. “Does that taste as good as it smells?”
“Here, open up.” With the linen napkin held under her loaded spoon, being oh so careful not to dribble the sauce, Ashley popped a bite into Amber’s mouth. Her rolling eyes and moan of gratitude made Ashley laugh. “No thanks necessary. That’s what BFFs are for.”
A foot nudged her under the table, drawing her attention across the elegant centerpiece toward Jordan. “Hey, why does she get all the attention?” The tea lights made his hazel eyes glow as he winked at her.
“Okay, I guess I can spare a bite for you, since you are paying for my meal . . . and you do look smokin’ hot in that tux.” Ashley fed Jordan a bite of her dessert, tempted to kiss the sugary speck that lingered on his bottom lip. She opted to wipe it with her napkin instead, since they were in a public place and the other diners weren’t likely to appreciate seeing her stick her tongue down his throat.
Hoyt, handsome as ever with Amber on his tuxedo clad arm, led the way to the parking lot. “Next stop, the Prom.” With a theatrical flourish, he held open the car door for the young ladies, then gave a comical curtsy to his buds before climbing in behind the girls.
Poison, Perennials, and a Poltergeist (The Petal Pushers Mystery Series) Page 6
