The First Gardener

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  Yet Mack’s body wouldn’t cooperate. And the reality of another round of fertility treatments was beginning to wear on him. He was tired of the mood swings the medication caused in Mack, tired of having to order his entire love life around thermometers and calendars, tired of worrying about the whole thing. It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything else on his plate. He was the governor of Tennessee, for goodness’ sake!

  Of course he could never tell Mackenzie any of this. She had her heart set on another baby, and she had suffered so much trying to have children. They both had. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her.

  He sighed. No point in worrying about what he couldn’t control. Better to focus on what was. Mack. Maddie. And his work, which was—

  The chirping phone interrupted his thoughts. “Yes?”

  Sarah was on the other end. “Gray, I’ve got Green Hills Nursing Center on line two.”

  His sigh was heavy. For a moment he’d forgotten about that particular worry.

  “Thanks.” He pushed the button. “This is Gray London.”

  “Governor, this is Harriet Purvis.” Harriet was the nurse who oversaw his father’s care at the Alzheimer’s unit in the Green Hills nursing facility. There was almost no chance that she was calling with good news.

  “Your father had him a bad spell today. He’s been yelling at some of the other patients, calling them some names I’d rather not repeat—you know, like he would have called the North Koreans. And then, well . . .”

  She paused, and Gray steeled himself. “Go ahead, tell me. Is he dropping his pants again?”

  Silence on the phone. Then, “We found him in bed with another patient. A female patient. And he put up quite a fight when we tried to move him. Said she was his . . . war bride. We barely got him out of the room before the poor woman’s husband showed up.”

  The laugh almost slipped out before Gray could stifle it. He knew the situation wasn’t funny. But sometimes, well, you just had to laugh. Like the time when Dad was still living at the governor’s mansion, escaped his nurses, and mooned an entire busload of tourists. . . .

  “Governor, I have to tell you, we’re getting complaints. He seems increasingly agitated, and the doctor is wanting to change some of his meds.”

  The laughter subsided. He knew what she was saying. “What do you think, Harriet? You know I trust you.” And he did. The last five years of overseeing his father’s care through his slow decline, even before they put him in the nursing home, had earned her that confidence.

  “I think it’s time to up the meds.”

  Gray sighed. “Okay, I’ll talk to the doc about it. And I’ll come by tonight to see Dad.”

  “He’d like that.”

  He hung up the phone and took the back exit out of his office. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed by his tryst with Mack, but he’d just as soon not look Sarah in the eye before he left for his meeting with the Joint Select Committee on Education Oversight.

  The meeting room was bustling with activity when Gray arrived. The high-backed tan leather chairs sat at attention around the mahogany tables as if aware that what went on within these four walls was important. Democrats and Republicans from both houses were there, along with three members of the Tennessee Education Association. The Speaker of the house was in one corner talking to Fletcher while Kurt poured what Gray was sure was his tenth cup of coffee. Assistants buzzed around the walls like bees waiting to swarm. The committee members offered their hellos and took their seats around the table when Gray entered.

  Gray tried hard to be a leader who led by example. He didn’t ask his staff to do anything that he wasn’t willing to do himself. When he asked them to cut their budgets, he cut his. When he asked them to stay late, he stayed late too. When he asked them tough questions, they could be assured he had already asked those questions of himself. That style of leadership had gradually earned him a level of respect from both parties. Respect was what had them here today, in a month when the General Assembly wasn’t usually in session.

  The economy had plagued him since his arrival. Every item on the state budget, from schools to highways, seemed to be hemorrhaging money, and Gray had been forced to get drastic in his measures—such as the controversial release of nonviolent prisoners—to stop the flow. More still had to be done—and done now. Despite small signs that the economy was improving, a government shutdown was still a possibility. Schools were also having to tighten the belt strap—the reason for this week’s emergency session.

  Gray had to give the committee members credit when it came to the reform bill that was coming up for a special vote on Wednesday. They had all worked diligently to avoid hindering teachers’ ability to actually teach. But it had taken months to get everyone here and remotely happy.

  “Mr. Governor,” Speaker Norm Johnson began, his white hair a measure of his tenure and his Southern drawl a measure of his roots, “there are some teachers who are furious about this here legislation.”

  Gray shook his head. He had read each of the hundreds of letters he had received about the bill—pro, con, and in between.

  “Plenty of ’em love it as well.” Ted Lamont, the house majority leader, tugged at the back of his toupee as he spoke, a nervous habit that indicated he didn’t like the way a conversation was headed.

  The three TEA members sat across from him, taking in the beginning dialogue without offering any words of their own. They had submitted their thoughts in writing months ago, and today was more about formalities. It was a final consensus meeting before the bill came up for a vote in the General Assembly.

  Speaker Johnson continued. “We do believe, however, that this is the best thing for our state.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Gray acknowledged.

  “And I’m proud to say we have enough house votes to pass it.”

  Gray sat back in his chair. “Marcus, what about the senate?”

  “We’re good, Governor.” Marcus Newman’s polished voice matched his twelve-hundred-dollar suit. One of the new faces at the capitol, Newman came from a long line of Memphis legislators. He was clearly an ambitious man, and being assigned to this committee showed he was moving ahead fast, but so far he had operated as a team player. “Both sides agree that something has to be done, and we believe both sides have been fairly represented.”

  The crisis in education had left them little choice. With the cutbacks about to hit the schools, Gray had to offer the public something to make them see public education was worth investing in. So they had changed the graduation standards as well as the teacher evaluation guidelines. Both teachers and students were getting extra scrutiny in hopes of giving the public a school system they’d be willing to send their kids to. He had made his own contribution when he took Maddie to school this morning.

  Gray’s chair swiveled beneath him as he placed his arms on the table. “So we’re saying all the bantering is over?”

  “We’ll vote tomorrow in our special committee meeting. It will have to be by proxy, of course. There’s a limit to how many folks we can get back in town this time of year, even with the special circumstances of this budget.” Speaker Johnson coughed and then reached for his water. He had been the Speaker for the past twelve years and a senator for thirty. Gray believed it was time for him to go, but he figured the man would die with his gavel in his hand—or die beating his opponent over the head with it. Either way, Johnson wouldn’t be letting go of the gavel as long as he had any fight left in him.

  Gray looked at Fletcher. His friend’s red- and blue-striped bow tie tilted at his neck, and his thick head of brown hair looked rumpled. “Set up a public signing for Thursday morning,” Gray told him.

  “Will do.”

  “Well, gentlemen, I am off to see which paper I can get to write about me tomorrow.” He laughed. The rest of the room did too, proving they had all read the morning paper as well. Gray stood, grateful the meeting had gone well. He shook hands and headed back to his office. Fletcher was right behind
him, with Kurt on their heels.

  “They may pull a last-minute stunt.” Kurt ran to catch up. “I don’t trust Newman. He’s too . . . too . . . pretty.”

  “They’ll sign it,” Gray assured.

  “They’ve got too much to lose if they don’t,” Fletcher added.

  Kurt wasn’t appeased. “They’re looking for a reason to get rid of you.”

  “You read way too many newspapers.”

  Fletcher laughed. “No, he’s just been in politics too long.”

  Gray chuckled too. Kurt didn’t. “Y’all laugh. But don’t be surprised if they throw you a curveball before Thursday morning. And I need us to sit down and go over this lawsuit from the Victims’ Rights Association of Tennessee.”

  Gray looked at his watch. Almost three o’clock. Maddie would be getting home soon, and he didn’t want to miss that call. “I’ll give you thirty minutes. But when Maddie calls, you’re finished.”

  Kurt huffed. “When Maddie calls, I’ll give you a break, and then we can finish.”

  Fletcher patted Gray on the back. “You hired him.”

  There was nothing like deep friendships, and these ran the deepest. The three of them had played baseball and football together. They had gone on dates together and won Gray the student body president election together. And they had vowed that wherever the road took them, they would go together. So far they had done just that.

  “Yep, I did, didn’t I? Stupid college promise.”

  Kurt rolled his eyes. Fletcher and Gray laughed. It had been that way since college. Gray was grateful it hadn’t changed.

  Chapter 8

  Mackenzie drove through the six-foot scrolled-iron gates, then peered in her rearview mirror to see them creep toward each other like old lovers. Beyond them, she caught a glimpse of the stately mansion. It still amazed her this was home.

  She made the short mile drive to Maddie’s school and pulled into one of the pickup lanes. She had never been in a pickup lane. For so many years she had longed for this day, the day she’d get to be like every other mother and pick up her baby from kindergarten.

  She remembered all those years driving by schools, desperate for a child of her own, until she’d finally vowed never to go by a school at that time of the afternoon. It was just too painful a reminder of what she lacked. There had been so many of those reminders: kids’ clothing stores, Mother’s Day at church, diaper commercials, babies on playgrounds, jogging mothers pushing their babies in strollers—all of them feeling like slaps in the face.

  And the questions—those were the worst. “When are you going to have children? What are you and Gray waiting on? Don’t you want children? Don’t you know the risks of pregnancy over thirty-five?” She had promised herself she would never ask anyone those questions. If people didn’t have children, there was a reason—and she never wanted to add to their pain by pressing the issue.

  The ten years of trying to conceive Maddie had been so deeply painful. But something inside of her had held on to faith—faith that she would have a child, a child who looked like a piece of her and a piece of Gray. And it had finally happened. The day Maddie was born, she and Gray had cried tears from wells so deep she hadn’t known such depth could exist in the human soul. And when the nurse placed Maddie in her arms, she’d known what every pill, every shot, and every vial of blood had been for.

  It had all been for the miracle of this little girl. She reached over and straightened Lola in the passenger seat. “Now you tell her what good care I took of you today, okay?” Mackenzie reminded. “Tell her about all the people you met at the luncheon and how we drove Jessica crazy. But it would be nice to assume some discretion and keep my little rendezvous with her daddy just between the two of us.” She looked down and gave Lola a wink. Lola’s painted-on smile assured her she would. Mackenzie’s phone vibrated in the console between her seat and Lola’s.

  “Mrs. London?” Jessica’s voice sounded tight. Anything else would have surprised her more.

  “Yes, Jessica.”

  “Chandra told me the mission just called. They’ve had a father come in with his wife and eight children. They got evicted and need a place to stay until the mission can make room for them at the shelter.”

  Mackenzie shook her head. The economy had wrecked the lives of so many hardworking people in her state. She had never seen it like it was now.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Tell them yes. And tell her I’d do it at the mansion, but with the big dinner Wednesday night, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Too much commotion for those children.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Jessica hated it when she let families come stay at the mansion. She said you never knew who you were letting in and it wasn’t wise. Mackenzie had informed Jessica that the mansion belonged to the people of this state, and if they needed a place to lay their heads in an emergency, it was available. In the nearly three years she and Gray had lived there, almost a dozen different families had taken temporary residence there.

  “Have Chandra call one of those residence hotels that has the sitting rooms and the refrigerators and stovetops. Get as many rooms as they need and put it on my personal credit card. Tell Mary at the mission that we’ll pay for a week, and if she needs more time, to let us know. And be sure—”

  Just then Mackenzie spotted a dark head bobbing above the front end of another car in the lane nearest the curb. Maddie’s blue eyes popped up long enough to see her mother.

  “Never mind. I’m going to go now because I see my baby girl.” Mackenzie hung up the phone.

  One of the teachers was helping a pack of tiny people, book bags hanging like sacks of bricks on their backs, cross into the second lane of cars and crawl into the safety of their parents’ arms. Mackenzie was craning her neck for another glimpse of Maddie when the back door opened. Maddie tossed her backpack on the floor with a thud, then pulled her little legs up into the car and bounced into the backseat, her feet swinging wildly. “Oh, Mommy, what a day!” She threw her head back dramatically against the black leather seat.

  Mackenzie laughed. “That good, huh?”

  Maddie jumped up and leaned against the console between the driver’s and passenger’s seats.

  “Maddie, you know you’re supposed to immediately buckle your seat belt.”

  “I know.” She climbed into her booster seat with a heavy sigh. “I just wanted to be close to your face to tell you about my day.”

  Mackenzie searched for Maddie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Okay, here’s my face. Tell me all about it.”

  “Where’s Lola?”

  Mackenzie passed the doll back to Maddie and watched as Maddie cradled her baby.

  “Did my mommy take good care of you?”

  “Lola and I had a very adventurous day. But we want to hear all about yours first. Did you eat your lunch? Did you remember to go to the bathroom? What did you do?”

  “It was great, Mommy. We sat in a circle and said the Pledge of ’legiance. And I already knew it ’cause Daddy always makes me say it. And we got to pick out our desks, and she signed them to us and everything.”

  Mackenzie smiled. “You mean assigned?”

  “No, she signed them to us. She wrote our name on a piece of paper and put it on top of the desk.”

  Mackenzie laughed. “I stand corrected.”

  The remainder of the drive home, Maddie talked nonstop. As the iron gates began to part for their arrival home, Mackenzie’s cell phone rang. It was Gray. He couldn’t wait. Mackenzie pushed the speakerphone button so Maddie could talk.

  “Hey, Daddy!” Maddie hollered from the backseat.

  “Hey, Maddie lady. How did it go? I know you were such a big girl today.”

  “I was, Daddy! I get to be the helper for the whole first week of school!”

  “You do? Well, I’m so proud of you. How about you let Daddy take you and Mommy out for a really nice dinner, okay?”

  “To celebrate?” Maddie responded with her infectious exciteme
nt.

  “Yes, to celebrate. That okay with you, Mack?”

  “Sure. You need to work late tonight?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “I want Rotier’s!” Maddie declared.

  Rotier’s was the place where Gray and Mackenzie ate the night they knew they loved each other. Neither of them had expressed it until the next day, during halftime of a University of Tennessee and Vanderbilt football game, but they knew. Maddie loved that story as much as she loved Rotier’s famous cheeseburgers on French bread, which had garnered them eleven straight years of being named the best burgers in Nashville. Their shakes and Reuben sandwiches were just as good. Though “really nice” it wasn’t.

  Gray’s voice filtered through the car. “Rotier’s, huh?”

  “Or Chuck E. Cheese’s?” Maddie offered.

  Gray’s laugh echoed. “That was going to be my second choice. How about we go with Rotier’s. I may just fall in love with your mother all over again.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Mackenzie said.

  “Me too,” Maddie echoed.

  “Well, I’ve got to check on Dad first. They’re wanting to change some meds, and I want to talk with the doctor.”

  “Do you need me to go?”

  “No, I’ve got it this time. So I’ll pick up my two best girls a little after six for some cheeseburgers.”

  “Three girls!” Maddie hollered, raising Lola by one arm and shaking her as if Gray could see her.

  He answered as if he did. “Oh, right. Lulu’s coming too, huh?”

  “Daddy!”

  Mackenzie’s car pulled into the garage. “We’ll see you later.” And in that moment all was perfect with her world.

  Maddie Mae done bust out that door like her britches on fire. I chuckled to myself today ever’ time I thought ’bout that li’l spitfire takin’ over that schoolhouse with her spirited self and that mouth that don’t close ’less it’s full up with some kind a ice cream cone or sump’n. That chil’ can carry her an entire conversation with them big ol’ blue eyes and thick eyebrows. She raise ’em, roll ’em, squint ’em, and purty soon she gone and tol’ you ’bout the whole day without ever openin’ her mouth.