Will ran his hand through his hair, turned, and walked away from the door. “I must have overslept,” he said, turning and heading into the kitchen for a cup of pre-programmed coffee.
“What time is it, anyway?” he said, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with coffee.
“Around ten. You want to postpone? Ride another day?”
“Hell, no, just give me ten. I’ll meet you outside,” he said, taking his cup and walking toward his bathroom.
“Okay, if you’re sure. While I’m here, I need to borrow a wrench.” Will spun around and headed toward his garage.
“What size?” he asked.
“Half-inch.”
Will went over to where his wrenches were and retrieved the one Oscar wanted.
“I don’t know how you keep this place so clean and organized. You’re a one-man tool supply.”
“I’m just anal that way,” Will said, going back into his home, now headed for the shower.
“See you in ten,” Oscar said, walking out the front door.
“Sure.”
Will was tired. Attila the Gardener tried to kill him yesterday; that thought caused him to smile. He’d known she would give him the worst, most difficult assignment, and she had not disappointed. He stepped into the shower, turning the setting to hot. He’d considered himself in excellent shape, and that fitness had saved him from Katrina’s work detail. Even so, he was still a little sore.
He had actually enjoyed the work, having missed the level of labor required by community gardens. He’d met people he’d seen around often, but didn’t have the chance to meet. They came over and introduced themselves and congratulated him on being selected the leader. For the first time since graduate school, he’d felt a part of something large and meaningful. He was surprised and impressed by the scale and reach of the gardens and Katrina’s role in them.
About ten minutes later, Will emerged from his home. Oscar was already on his bike.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yep.”
***
About two hours later, they were sitting at a picnic table on the inside patio of the best rib place in the state, having worked through a pound of ribs washed down with sodas.
The Big Rib was the name of this particular barbeque pit. It was nestled at the bottom of a hill, surrounded by green fields and a large pond. The Big Rib had been an added treat at the end of their ride through beautiful countryside among the hills of this region. Even in winter, it was still beautiful. They’d stopped for a late lunch.
He and Oscar were now contemplating a bowl of hot peach cobbler. Of course the answer was yes. They flagged the waitress down and ordered. After she’d taken their orders and gone, Oscar spoke.
“So how does it feel to have unseated the legend of the gardening world?” he asked to Will, teasing him.
“I had no idea it would end as it did. I didn’t know she wanted it as much as she did, although I’m excited about the opportunity,” he said.
“Gardening is huge in this town, and being chosen leader is the dream of most serious gardeners. Katrina has been that leader for us for the last four years. So congratulations,” he said.
“Thanks.”
The waitress arrived with their dessert.
“That was quick,” Will said, thanking her as she placed two bowls of the finest peach cobbler in the state before them, loaded with fresh peaches and juice served piping hot over the state’s equally famous homemade vanilla ice cream. Taking a bite, Will took a moment to savor the pleasure he’d always gotten from his first bite of this dessert. Oscar looked at him and grinned; he loved his peach cobbler, too.
“So how did it go yesterday? You survived, I see,” Oscar said.
“Not because Katrina didn’t try to kill me. But I’d sort of expected it, would have been disappointed if she hadn’t.”
“Okay,” Oscar said, drawing out the word.
“How well do you know her?” Will asked nonchalantly, or so he hoped.
“I’ve known her a while, although Lola knows her better. They’ve been friends for a long time. She babysits for our daughter when we go out.”
“So what do you think of her?”
“She’s good people, dude—steady, committed to the neighborhood, responsible for a lot of what you see at the garden. I for one certainly don’t get gardening, not at all. Cutting the grass, edging, and trimming was all I signed up for. I wouldn’t want anyone to put me in the same category as those little old ladies in the neighborhood who live for gardening,” he said, a big grin spreading across his face.
“Screw you,” Will said, laughing. “So what do you know about her?” he persisted, willing his face to be neutral. “The only time I’ve seen her, she’s working in the yard.”
“What do you want to know?” Oscar asked.
“You ever wonder why she dresses the way she does, does nothing to inspire attention?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want attention.”
“Right. What woman doesn’t want attention?”
“You’ve just been around all the beautiful ones too long. Not every woman wants the same things. Katrina is different is all, but you would have to look at more than the surface view,” Oscar said.
Will barked out a laugh. “That was harsh. Just call me superficial next time, why don’t you. Don’t hold back,” he said, laughing more. Oscar joined in.
“I see your point, and, yes, I do like women to look a certain way. Don’t see what’s wrong with that. It’s not the only characteristic I want, it’s not even the first, but by some stroke of luck, those women are attracted to me. What’s a guy supposed to do?” he said smugly.
“It’s your mug. Some women find that serious, somewhat exotic face appealing.”
“Between you knocking my looks and Katrina knocking my backyard and gardening skills, it’s a wonder I have any confidence left,” he said, laughing. “What else does she do?”
“Why do you care?” Oscar asked, looking at Will more closely.
“We’ll be working together. I’m just doing my homework.”
“She works for Western Bank and Trust, started right after she finished college.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know, man, something with wills and estates. She’s always telling stories about her trust customers.”
“Is that so? Any boyfriends?”
“Nope. She’s had very few boyfriends, a few now and again, but no one for very long,” Oscar said, watching Will. “Are you interested in Katrina?”
“Maybe, and I’m as much surprised by it as you are. She is different from what I’m used to, an anomaly, and that’s the pull, I think. I like her, like being around her, in a friend kind of way. She’s different,” he said, thinking, growing quiet. “Not what I expected at all.”
Oscar shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about winning; you can’t lose if she’s working with you, though. She knows more than one person should about gardening.”
“We’ll see. Anyway, we’d better head back.”
“How does your bike feel?” Oscar asked.
“Great. I love it; just wished I had more time for it.”
The waitress came over and handed them each a check. Will picked up both. “Let me get this, for dragging you away from your wife on a Sunday,” he said, pulling out his wallet and searching for cash. He paid and they walked out and got on their bikes for the return trip home.
***
Lola was on the couch, watching some reality show on TV. Not her reality, but hey. She looked up as Oscar entered. “How was the bike ride?” she asked, lifting her face up for a kiss.
“It was cool. We just rode up and back. We stopped for lunch at The Big Rib. We should think about moving out there, purchase some land, learn to farm or raise some cows. It’s really beautiful country there.”
“No farming for me; I’m strictly a city girl,” she said. “How’s Will?”
“He’s good, the same. Funny, though
, he talked mostly about Katrina today.”
“Oh, did he now?” Lola perked up, all ears.
“Yep, and that’s all I’m going to say on the subject. Next thing I know, you’ll be planning the wedding.”
“There could be worse things than that, and Katrina could use a little non-gardening-related drama in her life. I can’t remember the last man she’s gone out with, seriously anyway. She’s so serious, more than her age dictates; her childhood and all, I guess. This could be fun to watch,” she said, rubbing her hands together.
“Maybe,” Oscar said.
***
Katrina was watering the roses at Abernathy and Co. today, her least favorite and oldest assignment given to her by Colburn. She had been difficult when she’d first come to live with her parents, and Colburn had told her that, seeing how she was the thorniest and most easily offended kid he’d ever run across, her task would be to take care of and water her other brothers and sisters—the roses with their thorns.
Thankfully, her duties had changed over the summers and had expanded after she’d become more comfortable and confident. She’d learned from experience the value of love, water, and sunshine to ailing plants and people.
She was going to be Will’s assistant, for sure. She was pleased and impressed by him yesterday. She’d notified John and he’d been as excited as she’d ever seen him. There were benefits here for her, too, she reminded herself. New Years’ night seemed so long ago. She’d get to see him up close and personal, maybe even rub up against him, and there was always value in that. She was going to give him and the competition her best effort; she was competitive enough that she wanted her ‘hood to be victorious, so of course she’d do what was necessary to win.
“So Colburn has stuck you over here, I see,” Charles said, walking toward her.
“Yep, he with his old thorny joke.”
“And I hear you are going to help out your neighbor,” he said, coming to stand next to her, reaching for a cigarette in his pocket. Katrina made a face.
“Those things are going to kill you, Uncle C,” she said. He grunted, his usual response when she commented on his habit.
“You must belong to a really powerful grapevine. How you keep up with all the gardening stuff that goes on in this city is remarkable. I’m really impressed,” she said.
He chuckled.
“But to answer your question, yes, I am. He took up a dare I offered and spent most of yesterday at the gardens working under my command,” she said, frowning when he lit his cigarette and took a drag.
“Poor fellow,” he said. She just laughed.
“You don’t know the half of it. But he conducted himself well, worked hard, didn’t complain. He knows more than I gave him credit for. Plus, I didn’t tell you, but I’ve seen his yard, and I was truly impressed. It is beautiful,” she said.
“Good.”
“We’ll see.”
“You know, working with him could have some side benefits you didn’t expect. I believe you’ve said he was handsome? Maybe you could use your wiles on him.”
“What wiles?” she asked, and they both laughed.
“I don’t need to tell you that Colburn and I are proud of you, and we’re here if you need us. Always.”
“I know,” she said, wrapping her free arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.
CHAPTER 7
Mid-March
Will had one more stop to make. He’d just delivered his design to John’s home. This was the first step in the competition—review and approval by the neighborhood’s committee. He had dropped his plan off this morning, and had listened to John extol the virtues of having him paired with Katrina. They were destined to win, all the stars had aligned, and so on. He was early, a whole two weeks before the April 1 deadline, leaving the committee with more than enough time to review his plans and leaving him time in which to make any needed changes before submissions were due to the city by May 1. With his schedule, he always built in wiggle room for himself. Who knew when he’d have to leave unexpectedly? John had promised to have the approved design back to him in two weeks, earlier if he could manage it.
He was headed to Katrina’s home to give her a copy as well, even though it wasn’t necessary. He wanted to demonstrate his commitment and show off a little at being ahead of schedule, proving that it hadn’t been a mistake in making him leader. She would eventually need a copy for developing a planting schedule and a budget. And he just wanted to see her; he liked her, enjoyed working with her, felt they’d made progress, that she could be a really good friend. She reminded him of his sisters in some ways; she was funny and easy to talk to, uncomplicated.
He walked up to her door and rang the doorbell once. No answer. He waited a minute and rang it again. Still no answer. He’d turned to walk away when the door opened. He turned around, unconsciously taking a step back. She stood there before him, sweating and pulling a T-shirt over her head. She wore a white sports bra with what looked like matching white underwear, or very, very short shorts. They were so tiny, both pieces a beautiful contrast against her dark skin. Her body was glistening, glowing. Running shoes were on her feet. He must have interrupted her doing some kind of exercise. He’d only seen parts of her that night, or he thought he had, but he would have remembered this. Her hair was back in its usual ponytail, but some of it had come loose, falling against her back and around her face, framing it, and she wasn’t wearing glasses today.
He was speechless for about three seconds, his eyes blinking, thinking what a shame it was to cover her body. He must have looked like an idiot standing here, staring at her, but he couldn’t seem to get the image of her out of his mind long enough to form a coherent sentence. The reaction to her body was immediate, and he hoped she hadn’t noticed.
“Will, is there something you wanted?” she asked, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Uh . . . uh . . . yes . . . I-I, stopped by to tell you that I have given the plans to John,” he said, stammering because he’d been caught off guard. “You know he lives down the street,” he said, pointing in the direction of John’s house, by now feeling like a complete simpleton. “I also brought over a copy of the plans for you, to, uh, get started on the budget and schedule. The committee may require changes, so keep that in mind,” he said, still staring at her.
“I will,” she said, fighting to keep from smiling at his stammering, holding out her hand for the designs. His appreciation of her body was evident, and it amused her.
He placed them in her palm but didn’t let go, waiting for her attention. She smiled.
“I wanted to tell you that I enjoyed working with you at the gardens the other day, and John told me that you’ve agreed to work with me. So thanks for that, too.”
She really was pretty, and what a smile. When she gave a full one, like now, it was spectacular. He returned it, still a little dazed.
“I’ll let you know when I’ve put together a preliminary schedule and budget for you,” she said, moving to close the door.
“Sure,” he said, turning to leave.
He heard the door close, and started walking toward his house, the picture of her in white stuck inside his head. It reminded him of that night and prodded him to rethink the rule about not having a sexual relationship with his neighbor. She was an adult. He could talk to her, maybe she’d be up for friends with benefits. Before he knew it, he was back home.
“Will.” He saw Oscar standing by his car, clearly working on it. He crossed the Sheppards’ yard and went up to him.
“I watched you walk by, called your name twice. Lot on your mind, huh?”
“Sorry, I was thinking about something else. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just hanging out, changing the oil in my car,” Oscar said.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern in his gaze.
“Yeah, I just left Katrina’s house; dropped off some plans for the competition.”
“I hear
d she’s agreed to work with you.”
“I can’t believe the rumor mill in this neighborhood.”
He walked into Oscar’s garage and stood against the wall, his mind already back on Katrina.
“Will?” Oscar said, looking at him strangely. “You okay?”
Will shook his head, laughing at himself a little. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. “So oil change, huh?” He had tuned into Oscar now, having pushed the image of Katrina to the back of his mind.
***
She parked a little way from the Vegetable Garden, the site of her second date with Darius; actually more like her first real date. She’d met him at a coffee shop, and it hadn’t been so bad. She’d enjoyed it, had decided that she liked him—just not the Will kind of like. She was mostly feeling friendship, but she was going to try this dating thing if it killed her. They’d talked and gotten to know each other better over coffee, and it had ended with him asking her out to dinner.
As she walked down the sidewalk, she passed by a small garden next door to the restaurant. She could smell dirt and the scents of herbs in the air, could see plants in rows, neatly marked in this well-lit little garden.
She walked up to the restaurant, which was housed in a mid-sized building with a small wooden sign reading The Vegetable Garden. She reached for the carrot-shaped door knob on the very old heavy wooden door, pulling hard to open it. She had eaten here twice before, and both times she’d found the food exceptional.
The décor mimicked an old tavern, with a huge fireplace flanking the main wall directly across from the entrance. She knew from her earlier visits that the bread was baked over that fireplace, a tribute to days of old, giving off an aroma that made you want to beat your momma. Old chairs, fabric-covered, large, worn and broken in, were positioned around equally worn wooden tables that matched the old wood-covered floors. There was even a scattering of small couches with coffee tables or ottomans in front, all the comforts of home but with a wait staff. A couple was cuddling on the couch, coffee cups in their hands, a plate of cookies on the table in front of them. Lights were turned low, creating a cozy ambiance.
Steady (Indigo) Page 14
