“How do you explain last week's uninvited guest?”
“I can't, except that I didn't reset the alarm system after I entered to take inventory.”
He edged forward on the crate, resting elbows on his knees. “I'll give you the names and numbers of former clients. If you're happy with what they say, give me a call in the morning. I'll come by with a new hire at the scaping business. While I'm walking the roof, he'll take a look at the gardens. How's that sound?”
“Walking the roof? I don't understand.”
“Contractor slang. I'll start with the foundation, work my way up to the top and walk the roof, looking for holes, defects, weak areas.”
A general contractor, landscaping and rehab specialists rolled into one. If she was really lucky, Hanson Scapes could turn out to be a one-stop shop for all her needs.
“How about starting right now? I can show you around.”
He jerked his chin at the cane by her side. “Sure you're up to it?”
No, but she made herself do it. “I want to be open for customers by August first, Mr. Hanson. That means I must be up for anything.” He wasn't handsome in the Hollywood idol manner but he sure was eye-catching. And he moved with a fluid grace that she envied. Without thinking, she asked, “Did you play hockey?”
He opened the door leading to the foyer, waited for her to pass. “My father strapped skates on me as soon as I could walk. I did a run of eight between middle and high school, another four at Boston College.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his worn jeans, shifted back on his heels. “What gave me away?”
“After I entered the salon and said your name, you took a step backward without looking over your shoulder. Most people would trip over their own two feet but you have a sureness that only comes from years of gliding over ice in reverse.”
They came to the foot of the curving staircase leading to the second floor. Once upon a time she'd raced up and down those steps without thinking twice. Today they looked as tall as the Prudential Tower in the center of Boston.
He touched her arm. “We've both had a long day. What say we leave things for tomorrow?”
She nodded, in relief and gratitude. “In the morning, Mr. Hanson.”
* * *
The next day, Lou assured Maddy he was capable of taking Az Hanson from attic to cellar while the contractor formed a plan for what needed to be done. While Az walked the roof, nimble as a mountain goat, Maddy showed college student Jack Templeton around the grounds. After an hour, if the kid's eyes bulged any farther, she feared they might explode.
She recalled being that excited about her first term project at the UMass School of Hotel Management that kept her up several nights running. In the end, the A-Plus grade was worth the many sleepless nights and grinding heartburn.
Jack turned slowly, wonder bordering on love etched over his face. “This is awesome, Miz Flynn. I'd be honored to work on it. If you'd have me.”
“I'd like that very much.” She urged him down a path overgrown with weeds toward what used to be called the servants' porch and would eventually be converted into an office for Suzie. “Let's go this way.”
As they walked, he continued to ooh and aah over what he considered treasures to be re-purposed. “Did I mention I earned a certificate in ecological planning through the Adult Education Department at the Botanical Gardens? You have some plants in situ here which, if we're careful in bringing them back, will go far to replenish the ecosystem.” To her questioning look, he responded, “Important to pay attention to the environment, Miz Flynn. Real important.”
Maddy pulled a folder of pictures and notes from a tote she was never without. Among other things, the canvas bag held ideas and options she'd been gathering for months specifically geared for the garden renovations. “I have no clue how difficult it would be to implement it but I am intrigued by the concept of small, separate garden rooms. I'm trusting you'll be honest about the realities, not what you think I want to hear.”
He took his took his time with the photos and descriptions. A series of grunts were interspersed by the same number of 'uh-huhs' and 'geezes'.
“This trellis here,” he said, pointing at a picture of an archway constructed from tree branches. “This is what we call the Adirondack Style. The maker continued the natural bent and curve of the branches to keep the wild, untamed look.”
“Can we do it?”
Excitement was still there in his eyes. “My father does something similar to this at his shop in Northern New York. Let me call him tonight, get some measurements and cost estimates.”
“Wonderful. Now can we talk about specific flowers and shrubs?”
“Okay. What'd you have in mind?”
She directed him onto the path that led to the gazebo. “When I was a little girl, this section drew butterflies. I'd like to plant things that will foster that effect. Do-able?”
“Absolutely. You said you like shades of purple so we'll use Allium, South American Verbena and something called Anise Hyssop. All are quite tolerant of both drought and sun. Plus, the Hyssop gives off a licorice scent which attracts butterflies. The variety of shades of color will be a knockout.”
“Good. What else?”
“How do you feel about poppies?”
“Love them.”
“It's too late for this season but if we plant them in the fall, come next May we'll have a lovely collection right here at the corner fences you said you want placed at the front edges. Kind of a welcome to the garden effect.”
Caught up in Jack's enthusiasm, Maddy guided him back toward the porch. “Show me more when we get inside.”
Jack beamed. “I got a whole list of ideas for you to consider.”
Suzie appeared in the doorway, a tray of delicacies in her hands. “Just in time. Can you two help me out?”
The kid nearly tripped over his feet as he bounded up the steps. “You bet.”
Once inside, she directed them to sit at a picnic table draped with old beach towels, then placed the tray in front of them. “I left Lou and Az on the second floor to talk Jack and Jill baths and placement of HVAC ducts to come down and try out a few new recipes. I thought Jack might need a treat to keep up his strength, plus I need a taste tester.” She flashed him a smile that would light an underground cave. “Can you help me out, kiddo?”
“Sure thing, Miz Quimby. You bet.”
She placed a brightly decorated plate in shades of red and orange, a lively piece Granny Mil found in a small shop on the outskirts of Prague. An intricate lace doily went over the plate which was piled high with sandwich cookies iced in a variety of colors. “These are Macarons.” Standing back, she clasped her hands at the waistband of her utility apron. “I'd appreciate the feedback. Whaddya think?”
Maddy swooned after the first bite. The outside was crisp, the filling gooey and bursting with the flavor of vanilla bean. “Oh. My. Gawd,” she said in a perfect imitation of Sue at her best--or worst. “These are sinful.”
Jack moaned. Then leaned back in the chair and flopped his arms to his sides. “Can I--I mean will you--geez, these are the best things I've ever had.”
Suzie beamed. “Need more baking time? Less? Too sweet? Not enough?”
“They're perfect,” both garden planners said in unison.
“Super. For offering your considered opinion, I'm sending you home with a box of leftovers. I figure a college student would have room-mates. Do you think they'd mind?”
It was his day for bugging eyes. “Oh, no ma'am. They won't mind at all. In fact, they might follow me here once Mr. Hanson calls for the scut work to start. They'd even work for food as long as it's this good and there's plenty of it.”
“That's an idea,” Suzie said and joined them at the table. “As I try out my menus, I'll tweak the kinks. May I see the plans for the gardens? Madeleine has been secretive and I've been so busy planning the kitchen I've not paid attention to the grounds.”
Maddy slid the binder across the table.
“We're going to split the garden into individual 'rooms'. Each will have different colors and flavors.”
“Like the guest suites Louis has designed based on your grandmother's treasures.”
“Exactly.” Maddy pointed to a picture that captured her attention the first time she saw it. “Obelisks and swinging gates will act as dividers for small conversation areas.” She flipped the page. “There is a wrought iron bistro set in the cellar. Granny brought it back from Paris years ago. It will look charming beneath a trellis of climbing roses.”
Suzie's eyes misted. “I love the idea of using tall shrubs and everyday structures to create the illusions of walls and ceilings.”
“I found an old lantern in the gardener's shed,” Maddy said. “It'll take quite a bit of work to clean it up, but the brass will look great overlooking a couple bayberry shrubs. Jack tells me they are tolerant of the climate and I love the fragrance.”
Suzie glanced at Jack who appeared close to a sugar coma. “Mr. Templeton, you are a genius. Now, if you create an herb garden for me, I'll become your love slave.”
From the shocked pallor infusing the kid's face, Maddy feared she might need to call for the EMT's. “S-s-s-ure thing,” he stammered. “Any time. I think. Uh, thanks.” He hung his head. “I think I'll go sit in my car, maybe take a nap.”
* * *
As time went on, if Az wasn't directly on site, he stopped by to check on progress after putting in a full day at Scapes. It only took five or six harassing calls to local inspectors to ensure the the wiring was up to code for the entire house and the doorways to first floor suites and bathrooms complied with the Americans with Disabilities Act. It was time to address a handicapped ramp which he wanted attached off one of the side porches. The carpenters he'd hired were the best in the area and were grateful at the prospect for overtime.
It helped that their meals, prepared by a chef who sported as much color as the food, were provided gratis. Suzanne Quimby might be a tad on the eccentric side but man could she cook. Having been raised on menus from every fast food joint known to man--their mother's talents never extended to the kitchen--his brothers and all the workmen were in seventh heaven. Today's menu included a spicy cold tomato soup, fancy grilled cheese sandwiches, pasta salad and cinnamon berry shortcake. If this kept up, he'd need to have the waistbands on his jeans let out.
At Suzie's direction, he found Maddy in the side garden examining a shrub of Meadow Sweet that looked to be at death's door. As she unfolded those endlessly long legs and rose to her full height, he was struck again at her height. If and when they ever slow danced, she look at him straight on. The thought warmed him in places he'd not paid a lot of attention to of late. She'd pulled her hair up off her neck with some decorated clip; a few tendrils fell in loose coils down the side of her neck. A brief fantasy of using his mouth to move the columns of hair out of the way so he could get to that neck held more than a little merit. But he made himself put thoughts of that nature to the back of his brain.
“Did you want something, Az?”
Your neck in long, slow nibbles. “Uh, yeah. How'd the rest of today day go?”
“The head plumber and Lou went head to head over one of the Jacuzzi tubs we want in the shared baths.”
“Anything I can do?”
“They'll work it out, but thanks for asking.”
“How's Jack doing?”
When Maddy smiled, he recognized the sun had a new rival. Funny how this woman only had to look at him and his toes began to itch. “Your intern is a charmer,” she said.
“He'll make someone a good husband some day.”
“Spoken from experience?” she asked.
“Short and painful,” he admitted.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.” His dismal record in the marriage game ranked right up there with Things to Discuss Under Pain of Death--or Fire Ant Infestation.
For the first time in months he felt a sense of gratitude with the unlamented Pamela for relocating out of state. Distance, as well as time, had dulled the ache of her rejecting him, his goals and career choices. Each day spent with Madeleine Flynn helped ease the transition. And the opportunity to play hero in her eyes didn't hurt the old ego.
“How about you?” he asked. “Married? Involved? Tempted to take the leap?”
“Nope. Let me show you the gazebo. It looks exactly as I remember it.”
Guess that told him, which was okay with him. Discussions of past involvements held all the excitement of wet cement.
She led him down the newly placed cement path toward the refinished gazebo. “Jack agrees with my choices in plants but isn't afraid to tell me when I start going off the rail.” She pointed at a mound of fill Az himself had dumped here yesterday. “We're going to use something called Ladies Mantle and Winter Creeper at the rock walls he's promised to build. A trail of Honeysuckle over the edges will be pretty once it's matured.”
“Smart use of native plants and stone,” Az agreed with a nod. “Keeps costs down and is good for the environment.”
“Jack said the very same thing.”
He grinned. “I took the same course in their night school program. Learned a few things about supporting the ecosystem while saving the customer money.”
She led him around to the rear of the mansion. “I like the idea of using ornamental grasses. Jack called them Sea Oats and said it'll seem like they're dancing in the wind.”
Again, Az nodded. The kid had a vision for this project, with a touch of romance thrown in for flavor. Lucky for all of them the lady claimed to have the money to follow through. “How are you feeling?”
She raised both hands above her head. “See? No more cane.”
“Ready to go out dancing?”
The arms fell to her sides. “I'm not so sure about that.”
He grinned. “We'll start out slow. How about an early dinner? We could call the boys, ask them to join us so we could talk the next step in the renovations.”
“Can they make themselves available at the last minute?”
“Didn't you mention you want to open for guests by August first?”
“I did, yes.”
“Then the Hanson brothers need to get off their butts.”
She pulled her phone from the thigh pocket in her cargo shorts. “Let me check with Lou, see if he can join us.”
“Don't bother. On the drive out I passed his 'Vette parked in front of Ocean's End.”
“Ocean's End?” Her brow furrowed. “Oh, right. The art gallery featuring Maine artists. Lou hopes to blend their work with the sketches Granny brought back from Paris and Aberdeen. He's probably in pig heaven right about now.”
He glanced toward the back of the mansion where a hanging lamp glittered over the kitchen sink. “Should we invite Sue and Cori?”
“Suzie has a hot date tonight and Cori left this morning for a long overdue visit with family in Portsmouth.”
“I thought we might beat the crowd and grab an early dinner at the Starlight Grille. Friends of mine own it. I think you'll like it.”
“I don't have the right clothes and I … don't know if—”
He swept a hand over his plaid shirt and denim jeans, both equally stained with dirt and fertilizer. “It's burgers and fries at a local eatery, Madeleine, not a five star bistro in Faneuil Square.”
As her laugh warmed him, the blush on her face when she raised her gaze to the sky took his breath away. “I am hungry.”
“If we drag our heels much longer we'll miss the special of the day which, I have on good authority, is to die for.”
As she climbed the steps to the back porch, Maddy glanced over her shoulder. “What is the special of the day?”
Fascinated by the way the cotton shorts fit her shapely butt, it took a moment for his brain to kick into gear. He said the first thing that came into his head. “Boiled scrod.”
“You're kidding, right?”
“Christ, I hope so.”
C
hapter 3
They didn't talk room concepts, recalcitrant inspectors or back-breaking landscape renovations. Nor did they discuss Serenity Harbor's citizenry and the lack of enthusiastic welcomes from business owners for Maddy and her team.
“Lou swears if one more Serenity store says they don't make special orders for fabric or window treatments, he'll take his business to Boston.”
Az took a sip of his draft beer. “Which shop was that, do you recall?”
“He didn't say. Is it important?”
“Not really, but it's good business to help out any customer who walks in the door.”
Maddy chuckled. “Don't say that to Suzie. She's resorted to driving all the way to Augusta for grocery runs. Until her own herb garden is mature enough to use, she has to drive miles in order to find fresh dill and basil.”
Again, Az frowned. “Okay, so the BuyRite is not known for catering to the gourmet palate but even I recognize the herbs you're talking about. Have Sue draw up a list of what she wants; I'll have my mother do a mix and match from our greenhouse.”
Delighted with the ease of the solution, Maddy extended a hand to squeeze his fingers. “She'd like that very much, Az. Thanks.”
“Tell me how you met the tattooed lady.”
“We were room-mates our first year at the UMass School of Hotel Management. It was pretty clear from the start her heart wasn't in the management end of hospitality, but because its a family heritage kind of thing, she felt she should give it her best shot.”
“Been there, done that. What did the folks say when she told them?”
“Her parents were pretty good when she finally admitted food preparation lit her fire. At the end of our first year, she transferred to the New England Culinary School and ended up in Paris for her junior year. Wait till you taste her crepes; they soar.”
Az took another sip of beer. “The grilled cheese concoction with the tomato soup she made the other day was terrific. I've never been a fan of spinach but I'll eat it now--as long as it's smothered with goat cheese, fresh tomatoes and spicy mustard. Would have told her how much I liked it but between my brothers, Jack and his room-mates tripping over their tongues to sing her praises I never got the chance.”
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