Jennifer's Garden

by Dianne Venetta

  She ground her jaw closed. Pulling her hands from the table, she pressed them into her lap. Don’t. Don’t do it, Aurelio.

  “Once we have children, you’ll have to cut back your hours anyway.”

  She locked her brows together. “And you? What exactly will you be doing, sweetheart?”

  He gave her a taut smile. “Well, I won’t be bearing children, I can assure you.”

  The restaurant was near-empty. The staff hovered out of sight. While she and Aurelio rarely fought, she’d had enough. “Don’t expect me to give up my career for Africa. It won’t happen.”

  “And children? Does the same hold true?”

  “It’s completely different. Women manage careers and family everyday and do so quite well, I might add. I don’t anticipate a problem.”

  “I see.”

  “Especially when husbands pitch in and do their fair share.”

  Brown eyes became black as they seared into her. “Like your father?”

  She pulled her frame up and nudged her shoulders back. “Yes. Like my father.”

  Aurelio pulled the napkin from his lap and carefully set it on the table. With a nimble wave of his fingers, their formally-clad waiter appeared tableside.

  “What can I get for you, Mr. Villarreal?”

  “Check, please.”

  “Very well.” He hurried off to his station, tucked behind an embellished wall partition.

  Jennifer glared at Aurelio. “That’s it?”

  “I think we should discuss this at another time.”

  “Now is fine with me.”

  “It’s late. You’re under stress. I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean.”

  Jennifer detected no concern in the hard line of his mouth, the icy frame of his gaze. There was no heart in the sudden dismissal. She cleared her throat. Maybe it was better this way. He was right. She might say something she did mean.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jax heard her car pull in and with it, felt a rise of anticipation. Without looking up, he wondered whether she would stop and chat as she had yesterday or bypass him altogether. Though he would never admit it, he positioned his schedule so he was here when she arrived home. Just in case. He may not harbor fantasies of them getting together, but he was a man.

  And Dr. Jennifer Hamilton was a beautiful woman, as fine as they come, and he liked looking. Especially those ocean blue eyes. He jammed his shovel into the dirt around the post.

  “Good afternoon!”

  He turned at the opening. Lifting to a stand, he held the shovel aside and allowed himself full sight of her. Dressed in scrubs today, a lavender print, she looked natural, appealing. More college girl than career woman. Him, he’d take either one of her looks so long as she donned that beautiful smile of hers, the one she wore now. “Good afternoon, to you!” he called back.

  Jennifer walked toward him, but as she drew near, he noticed the worn look to her eyes. Shades of exhaustion turned the normally vibrant cobalt he enjoyed, to a lackluster blue. Coming to a halt a few feet from him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “The arbor looks great,” she said, her voice on the weary side.

  Freshly stained, the wood was light brown in color. “Thanks.” While he wanted to know what bothered her, what could so completely rob the light from her eyes, it was none of his business.

  “I like the color.”

  “Natural usually works well outdoors.”

  Could just be the weather. The sky held only a spattering of clouds. He swiped a gloved hand against his damp brow. April in Miami could be brutal, though her makeup appeared intact, not smudgy from the humidity. Her ponytail remained glossy brown, not the first sign of frizz.

  She smiled softly. “That will be nice.”

  “I think so. Hey, I wanted to ask you, how’s your patient?”

  When Jennifer looked at him, he swore he saw gratitude in her eyes. “She’s doing well. Went home today, in fact.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Yes,” she said with a pause, as though debating what to say or how much. Ever the patient one, he waited, allowing her a smooth exit or an open door to conversation.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  Not the direction he thought they were going, but replied easily, “Don’t be.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult your choices—"

  “You can’t.”

  She peered at him in question.

  He didn’t want to sound harsh, but he didn’t want her to mistake his position, either. “I’m good with where I am in my life. The choices I’ve made, the decisions...” He smiled, crossing a leg at his ankle, boot tip resting on the ground. “No one has the power to take that away from me.” Not even you, he mused soberly.

  Unfolding her arms, she sighed. “It’s just...” Jennifer glanced around the yard, her gaze drifting more than taking in.

  He waited, impatient for where she was going with this.

  She returned her focus to him. “I don’t want you to think I’m making any sort of judgment.”

  Ah, but you are, he mused.

  “Your life is yours and you have the right to live it as you see fit. I shouldn’t have acted as though I...” She glanced at the ground.

  Disapprove?

  “It sounds exciting, really,” she pulled her face up level with his. “To travel around, no cares, no one depending on you, no one to answer to.”

  Exciting?

  “I’m envious.”

  Jax dropped his head back and laughed.

  Jennifer drew back in offense. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but you sound about as excited as a woman headed for a walk on the plank!”

  Finely shaped brows pulled together as she pursed her lips.

  “Okay, okay.” Uncrossing his legs, he stood erect. “Forgive me?” he asked, suppressing a chuckle.

  She rolled her eyes, but lapsed into a smile. “This time. But next time when a woman tries to make amends, you should humor her and act as though it mattered.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  She grinned. “Now get back to work.”

  “At your service.”

  Jennifer shook her head and retreated into the house. As she did, Jax felt her absence. He definitely enjoyed her company and though short in duration today, at least he had removed the gloom from her eyes.

  # # #

  Sitting in silence by her mother’s bedside, Jennifer waited for her to awaken. As the soft light of sunset faded, evening seeped in through sheer curtains, casting the room in sedate buttery tones. Tonight her mom wore blue. She loved the color on her. Brought out the life in her eyes.

  Stroking the hand she held in her own, content with the connection of touch, Jennifer thought about Jax. Yesterday had been different. In defense of himself, he’d made a joke at her expense. She’d been caught off guard, but should she have been?

  It occurred to her how little she knew about the man, the important things, like the fuel behind his desire, the emotional connection to his mother.

  His father. How could a man be so close to his mother while at the same time, be estranged from his father? If he was estranged. She was making assumptions at this point, going on intuition. But the ties intrigued her. She wanted to empathize with him, his situation. She wanted to help him move past the anger and close the distance.

  Struck by the admission, she questioned her motives. Why? Why did she feel the need to find common ground, to help him with his personal issues? What did it matter?

  The epiphany was sharp. Because he had done so for her. His instinct was to reach out and help; console her, ease her heartache after the near loss of a patient. Whatever she needed, he seemed prepared to offer.

  And when it was her turn?

  She had robbed him. Jennifer’s mind filled with his image; the sorrow in his eyes when he recalled his mother’s death, the disappointment when it was clear she didn’t understand his dreams. And then the dis
tance.

  Yet, he forgave her. She recalled his smile. With humor.

  “Jennifer... Darling.”

  The whisper of voice pulled her back to the present.

  “How long...have you been here?”

  The fragile quality to her mother’s voice scared her. She firmed her clasp of the elderly hand and tried to warm her skin. “Not too long. A couple of minutes.”

  Beatrice seemed pleased.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay,” she replied faintly.

  “I brought you some flowers.” Jennifer pointed to the bedside table where a bouquet of yellow lilies gently bowed from the hourglass vase. Lackluster in the dim lighting, they promised a glorious wakeup call in the morning.

  Beatrice’s eyes sought them out and brightened. Her gaze returned to her daughter. “They’re beautiful.”

  Jennifer smiled, happy for any speck of joy she could bring to those dear blue eyes, a shade too gray at the moment. She leaned closer, the faint scent of Gardenia drifting up between them. “The yard is beginning to take shape.”

  Beatrice’s eyes shone with pleasure. “Tell me.”

  She nodded. “Jax is doing a really fine job.” Her mother looked confused. “Remember, he’s the man I hired to do the landscape. The one Michael recommended.”

  “Oh yes,” she laughed softly. “The...bartender.”

  The description curdled in Jennifer’s mind. The bartender. That was how she had first described him to her mother. “Jax is first and foremost a landscaper, of immeasurable talent,” she corrected with more vigor than necessary. “His bartending was a skill learned during his youth that served him through the years. His appearance at Michael’s was nothing more than a favor to a friend.”

  Beatrice’s brow rose, her quiet eyes appraising. “I see... Tell me more.”

  “He calls it a garden to live by,” Jennifer said, a grin sweeping her face.

  “What?”

  “Yes. He’s designed it around my lifestyle, my needs. That way, rather than looking out back and seeing one big chore, he says I’ll look out and see a place I can’t wait to spend time.” She brushed a wisp of bangs from her eyes. “It’s going to be incredible Mom. Jax is literally transforming the yard before my eyes.”

  “Hmmm...” she murmured, a suggestive tone in her reply. “What does...Aurelio think?”

  She stilled. “He agrees.”

  “Well...that’s good to hear, isn’t it,” she said, but her gaze assumed a faraway haze as it settled on the vase of flowers.

  “You’d like Jax,” Jennifer continued.

  She returned her attention and patted Jennifer’s hand. “Would I, now?”

  “He learned everything he knows from his mother. She had a passion for gardening.” She smiled and squeezed her mother’s hand gently. “Like you.”

  Beatrice suppressed a chuckle. “Did she?”

  “Yes.” Jennifer’s enthusiasm dipped. “But she died a few years back. Heart attack.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” came the automatic response.

  Jennifer nodded. “Jax took it pretty hard. Like I said, the two of them were quite close.”

  “I imagine he did,” she replied, but seemed to drop with whatever thought she intended to follow. Beatrice took a deep breath and exhaled, holding a knowing smile in her eyes. “It won’t be long now...before you and Aurelio begin your life together... As husband and wife.”

  Jennifer dropped her gaze fully, landing on their clasped hands. “Yes,” she said, flat and noncommittal. “It won’t be long now.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jennifer strode down the wide corridor, floors cleaned to a glossy finish, walls covered with cheerful murals depicting animals and children at play beneath rainbows and blue skies. Beverly Singleton’s doctor had called. She was asking for her.

  Taking the corner, she hurried down to the nurse’s station. Men and women wore colorful scrubs, prints of flowers and teddy bears, fish and dolls, themes to entertain little boys and girls alike. She spotted the pediatric surgeon at once.

  Closing the distance, she asked, “How is she?”

  “Frightened. Nervous. The usual. I appreciate you coming by.”

  “Of course.” As if she would consider otherwise. “Which room?”

  He pointed down a well-lit hall to his left. “Thirty-three twenty.”

  She gave a quick pat to his shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Slowing at the open door, she peeked inside. The room was dim compared to the hallway, monitors prominent with their bright greens and blues. All systems go, she mused. In the center, the girl was reclined against a soft pillow, covers pulled up to beneath her arms.

  Round eyes lit up at the sight of her, the smile instantaneous. “Dr. Hamilton, you came!”

  Strolling up to the bed, Jennifer ushered forth a bright smile. “Of course I did.” She spied the pink rabbit tucked close beneath the lightweight blanket. “Good evening, Poppy.” She leaned over. “How could I miss an opportunity to visit the best crumpet chef this side of the United States?”

  The little girl beamed.

  Jennifer liked that her hair was done, combed and clipped with ribbons. This time they were sky blue and matched her eyes to perfection. She grasped the bedrails. “I hear someone’s getting a transplant. That’s wonderful news.”

  The frown was instant.

  “Why, Beverly. What’s the matter?”

  With a flip of her lashes, she grabbed hold of Poppy and hugged her close. “I’m afraid.”

  Jennifer ran a hand over the child’s forehead, her fingers caressing the silk of her hair. “It’s okay to be scared, Beverly. Surgery is a big deal. But I know your doctor and he’s the best there is. He’s going to take real good care of you, you’ll see.”

  “But Dr. Hamilton...” Her eyes darted to her stuffed animal. “I—“

  “What is it? What’s bothering you?”

  She rolled them back up to Jennifer, tears lining the bottom. “Will another child have to die to give me their heart?”

  Jennifer bit back a sudden rise of tears. There was no easy way to tell a child the truth, even if the facts were to their benefit. She ran her hand along Beverly’s forearm. She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  She clutched the rabbit to her chest. “But that’s not fair!” she cried and pressed her eyes closed.

  Jennifer took a deep breath, blowing it out with calm and precision. She glanced around the room. Tubes were attached to the child’s body, monitors recorded her vitals. She gazed at the girl. She was right. Life wasn’t fair.

  With a light squeeze, she whispered, “Beverly, listen to me.” Touched by the warmth of her skin, she lingered, hating that any of this was necessary, but grateful they had the option. “Sometimes God needs angels, you know...”

  The clenched expression relaxed.

  “Sometimes, he needs to call back his children.”

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. Velvet blue in the darkened room, they reached into Jennifer’s heart and begged her to continue.

  “We don’t know why, or when, we only know that it happens. Jennifer stroked the small arm beneath her hand, the fluffy fur of the stuffed rabbit. “It’s not our job to make those decisions.” She shook her head. “But it is our job to do the best we can while we’re here. Life is a blessing.”

  She gazed at the innocence staring back at her and longed to encourage its trust. She stroked her curls, fiddled with the ribbon. “Yours has only just begun. You have big things ahead of you. Your family loves you, your friends...” She gently tousled her hair. “Besides, Poppy needs you.”

  Releasing her death grip on the rabbit, she asked, “Will it hurt?”

  Jennifer smiled. “You won’t feel a thing during the surgery. The doctor will give you medicine to help you sleep and then he’ll fix everything.”

  “After?”

  “A little. But nothing you can’t get through. And I’ll be here every step of the way. We’ll
have tea and make crumpets.” She winked. “Now that you’ve introduced me to the delicacies, I’m hooked!”

  Jennifer was rewarded with a small smile.

  “My mom says I’ll be able to go back to school soon.”

  “She’s right. And before you know it, you’ll be jumping rope, bouncing across the playground.”

  “I’ve never been able to jump rope.”

  No, she didn’t imagine she had. “You will now, once you receive your new heart.” Survival rates were good. Albeit the long-term outlook was uncertain, technology was improving and so were the odds.

  “Mom says I’ll have to take medicine.” She scrunched her nose and mouth in disgust.

  She laughed. “We’ve got great flavors, now. We can make anything taste good, even medicine!”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Jennifer pulled a small hand free from the rabbit and secured it between her own. Rubbing hers back and forth, she promised, “We’ll get through this, Beverly, you’ll see. Together. You’ll never be alone. If you need me, all you have to do is call.”

  # # #

  “What are you doing here?”

  Sam ignored the paltry welcome and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “I’m great! Thank you for asking.”

  Jennifer stepped aside, and made way for her entrance.

  “Thought I’d stop by for a visit on this bright and cheery Saturday morning, now that all’s forgiven.”

  “You’re on probation.”

  “Good enough.” Spotting the sketch book in Jennifer’s hand, she stopped and glanced at her in surprise. “I didn’t know we were drawing again.”

  “I’m not. Not really,” she evaded, self-conscious of the drawing. It was the first since the one she did of her mother. “Call me crazy, but it’s been so long, I was curious to know if I could still do it.”

  “Judging by the looks of that one, you still got it, baby!”

  Pleased by the compliment, she peered at the drawing in hand. Unlike her island themes, this one was a rendition of her garden. At least the way she envisioned it, once completed. Color everywhere, it was bright and happy and welcoming.