Wildflower Hope (The Wildflower House)

by Grace Greene

  After we’d cleaned the kitchen, I said, “I can’t invite you to stay here indefinitely. You know that.”

  “I know. I couldn’t stay anyway. I need a job. There isn’t one out here that will pay me enough. I’ll get an apartment near Mom. Something short term. But I’d like to help you. I promise I won’t overwhelm. Maybe we never really knew each other before, Kara. Or maybe we did, and we’re not those people now. We’ve changed.”

  “Do people change? Can they?”

  “At least in terms of how we understand ourselves, others, and the world—yes. And really, what else is there?” She stared at me. “Please invite me back whenever—if you need help with a project or just to talk. You know we both enjoy that. Things change, but I don’t think that ever will.”

  I smiled. “It’s good to have you around again, Victoria.” I pushed the last bits of salad into a small pile on my plate. “In fact, I have some ideas about things I’d like to do around here. Maybe we can mull them over a little?”

  “Anytime, Kara. Just let me know.”

  Seth called the next afternoon. I was standing at the window watching for Will with my phone in my hand when it rang and Seth’s face appeared on the screen.

  “Hi, there.”

  “Hi, Kara. I’m working on arranging another trip home. This one will be for us. I’ll take another stab at convincing you to come out and visit me here, but I promise you this time we’ll have our date.”

  “That’s great, Seth, but do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “No more surprises. Let’s actually plan a date and keep it.”

  “I agree. We’ll do it right this time.”

  I smiled at my reflection in the window glass. “Thank you.”

  “You sound different, Kara. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s just that I miss you. I wish you could be here to share the project, and the progress, with me.”

  “I doubt I’d be much help, to be honest. This is really your thing, right? I want to encourage you and support you, but I have my own work to do.”

  “Of course. I just mean that when it comes to choices and decisions and all that, it would be nice to have another opinion.” And someone to celebrate with when it was going well. And someone to commiserate with when it wasn’t.

  “I have to go now. I’ll call when I have details about when and where. Talk to you soon.”

  “Soon, Seth.”

  Not a satisfying farewell. I was left with the feeling that our potential as a couple was slipping away fast.

  Had Seth changed?

  Had I?

  I hadn’t known him all that long before he’d left. But it was likely his priorities would change along with his new work situation. Why wasn’t I angry?

  Victoria had been right when she’d said I’d get angry again. It was my way. Sometimes I got angry first and asked questions later.

  Was I learning to let it go? Maybe. Or . . . maybe it was that the degree of caring equaled the degree of distress. I missed Seth, right? Sure. But not like I had before.

  It was a shocking realization. I didn’t know quite what to make of it.

  “Almost gone.” Victoria spoke from behind me, startling me.

  “What?” I spun around.

  She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, tugged at the collar of her white shirt, and gave a big shrug. “Me.” She gave me a long look before adding, “Took a little longer than expected, right?”

  Her expression was wistful. Maybe a little regretful? It moved me. “Almost gone, you said? Not forever.”

  “No, not forever.” She smiled and moved with a light step to where I stood at the window. “And not until Will is ready to leave. He’s packing up his truck, so I think it’s almost time. Sweet of him to give me a ride to pick up my car.” With a tiny change in tone, Victoria added, “I hope you’re okay with that.”

  I turned away, pretending I didn’t know what she was talking about. Just before our big blowup, I’d seen her being very friendly with Seth. And then I’d seen the pictures of her with Niles. Jealousy was an ugly thing—and pointless. Especially pointless when it came to Niles and Seth, who were grown men and responsible for their own decisions, including the poor ones. But Will seemed different somehow. A good guy. An honest man. Maybe only because he hadn’t let me down yet?

  I said, “That’s perfectly fine. I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” I added in a lower voice, “He’s a good guy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.”

  But she’d heard after all, because she said, “What about Seth? Is he a good guy too?”

  With a dark look, I said, “You have a lot of nerve to ask me something like that.”

  “So we’re good, but not that good? Not yet?” She gave a short, sharp laugh and picked up her bag. “It’s all good, Kara. Give it time.”

  I almost smiled. Her jokes sometimes came with a dig. But she had a knack for hitting the mark.

  She walked past me but stopped at the door and said, “I think it comes down to patience. I’m good with persistence, but I never learned patience. Maybe I don’t have the genes for it.” She shrugged. “By the way, I’ve got a line on a good job. Not the kind of salary I made in Northern Virginia, but then it costs less to live in Richmond, so it works out.” She gave me a last look. “It all works out, Kara. Some things can’t be forced. People just have to remember that.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A week later the kitchen contractor said, “We’ll be done in here in a few days.”

  It had been a much longer project than I’d anticipated, but the white cabinets, plentiful and spaced properly, and the white, lemon-tinted walls with melon trim were fresh and eye catching. The results were well worth the inconvenience. With less enthusiasm, I looked at the stacks of dishes and foodstuffs and pans piled in the pantry and on the dining room table and thought restocking would be a more enjoyable task if shared with a friend.

  I telephoned Victoria and said, “I could use your help.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  She sounded eager. I felt a little guilty.

  “It’s not an emergency or anything. If you’d rather not or you’re busy, just say so. The kitchen renovation is almost done. Sometime next week I have to put the bits and pieces back together. Wouldn’t mind some help, if you’re willing? We can have dinner, if you’re interested.”

  “Just tell me when. I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll let you know.” I added, “Don’t risk your job to help me.” Odd, I thought. I’d never say such a thing to anyone else. On the other hand, Victoria was one of a kind. She was sometimes her own worst enemy. I laughed. I could say the same of myself.

  Victoria would help me tackle the job of restocking the dishes and pans and all of that assorted stuff. She’d throw her energy at it—a level of energy that sometimes caused issues, but that energy was also her strength. I missed seeing it. Putting the kitchen back into good working order felt like a good opportunity to share some time together, too, and make a step toward restoring our friendship.

  The dining room wallpaper restoration was complete. The paper removal / wall plastering in the sitting room was getting close to done. We’d soon be ready to paint.

  The parlor wallpaper was long gone, and plaster had been floated across the walls to smooth the surface. Moore’s helper had painted the room a silvery blue gray. The walls were now dry, and Will was ready for his newest project, inside the house this time.

  “You’re a carpenter too?” I’d asked him when he’d offered to build the bookcases.

  “I am, actually. Pretty good at it.” He’d spanned the wall with the measuring tape and noted the length on a notepad.

  “A man of many talents,” I’d said with a smile.

  “Good with my hands generally.”

  He’d already turned away to take another measurement. I stared at his back. Had he meant that the way it had sounded? Or had I colored the
meaning of his words with my own?

  If I could’ve thought of something clever to say, I might’ve, but I couldn’t, so I’d said, “Good to know,” and left the room quietly. I’d stopped in the foyer and looked back. And caught him looking too.

  We’d both smiled.

  “Build me some fabulous bookcases, Will Mercer.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A few days later, Will arrived with the boards and a saw. He set the saw up in the front yard and carried the boards in and went to work building the bookcases.

  I said, “Victoria is coming to help me with the kitchen later. You can join us for supper, if you’d like.”

  “Sure,” he said, hardly looking up.

  He was busy marking a measurement on a board. I got out of Will’s way with a remark to call me if he needed help and went to the kitchen, thinking I’d get a head start while waiting for Victoria to arrive. But I didn’t get much done because I returned to the parlor many times to peek at Will’s progress.

  I tried to be discreet and not disturb him. When he was outside cutting, sanding, or painting the boards, I stood at the window, knowing it was unlikely he’d see me. I also took the opportunity to imagine how the parlor would look when it was done. The fresh gray paint, the crisp white semigloss finish of the trim and the fireplace, the fireplace painting that would sit on the hearth in front. I had some pretty things to set on the shelves, like my embroidery books and Victoria’s gift, Wildflowers of America, but I needed more books.

  “Excuse me,” Will said, carrying a finished board back inside.

  I moved. I knew I was underfoot, but in my head a weird comparison was in progress. Will and Seth. How did I feel? If they went away, who would I miss the most? Did I have feelings for Will? Could I trust them considering how easily I’d fallen for Seth? And not knowing how I might feel about Seth when he returned . . .

  “Seth is coming back soon,” I said.

  Will said, “Yeah? That’s nice.”

  Why had I said that? “Not to stay. He’ll be home for a few days this time. A little more time to spend with his family.”

  “And you too?”

  “Sure.”

  Will shrugged. We were having a conversation of shrugs and intonations. Victoria, if she were here, would surely read a ton of subtext into it.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I’ll get back to my work.”

  On one of my stealthy ninja trips up the hallway, Will said, “All that tiptoe stuff is distracting.”

  Oh.

  “You can trust me to do the job right, I promise.”

  “No, it’s not that. I wanted to see how it was going but didn’t want to disturb you.”

  He paused in fitting a long board against the corner and gave me a dark look. “No? Well, you are.” He shook his head. “If you want to see what’s going on, just walk in. It’s okay.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Nothing to be sorry about.” But his dark look didn’t ease.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll check back in later. If you need anything, yell.”

  He nodded and turned away. He’d gone from friendly to grouchy, and I saw I’d gotten on his nerves.

  “I’ll get out of the way.”

  “Kara?”

  I stopped and turned back.

  “Yes?”

  “If you have a moment, I could use your help after all.”

  “Sure. What can I do?”

  “Steady this board? The wall isn’t exactly a right angle, and I don’t want the board to move out of position while I secure it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Right here,” he said. “Put your hands here.”

  “Got it,” I said, glad to be able to help.

  My hands were supporting the board at about shoulder height. Will moved close so he could screw the board to the wall. When he worked on the screws midway up, his head was near, and I had a clear view of his dark hair and neat part. His shirt pulled tight across his back and shoulders.

  It was a short moment. An easy task.

  “Okay. You can let go now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, it’s secure now.”

  I released the board and stepped away, stepped on the edge of something, and nearly toppled. Will grabbed me by the arm, steadied me, and then released me without remark.

  I still felt his hands on me, as if they were still catching me. He had a speck of sawdust in his hair. I wanted to brush it off.

  “Kara? Something wrong?”

  Not Will’s voice. Victoria’s. She had arrived.

  She gave an awkward little laugh as she darted quick looks back and forth between Will and me. “Door was open. Hope you don’t mind me just walking in?”

  Will’s face was a little flushed. My own cheeks felt hot.

  “He’s building bookcases.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” But she sounded noncommittal.

  I said, “Will, if you don’t need me any longer, I’ll get back to work?”

  “I’ve got it from here.”

  “Fine, then.” I tugged at the hem of my shirt.

  With a sideways glance, Victoria asked, “Did you forget I was coming over?”

  “Will needed me to steady a board for him—that’s all. If you need more help, Will, just call me.” He nodded, and I turned to Victoria, saying, “Let’s get to work. Everything is out of place in the kitchen and the dining room. It’s a mess.”

  I got her into the kitchen quickly before she could say more. She cast a long look at the dishes and pots and mixing bowls stacked on the table and the counters, and the foodstuffs from flour to lentils to canned goods, which occupied every empty space between. Victoria went around the room examining the new quartz countertops and the oak cabinets. She walked into the updated pantry closet, saying, “Nice. Very nice.”

  “What a difference,” she said in a normal tone as she came to stand near me. Then she lowered her voice and asked, “What was going on in there? You had red cheeks and a look . . . I thought for a moment there that I’d . . . well, interrupted something personal.” She grinned. “Did I?”

  I glanced down the hallway. Will wasn’t in sight. I closed the kitchen door gently. “No. Of course not. I was helping him.”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  Victoria was telling me to keep my voice down . . .

  I said, “Then stop saying outrageous things. Don’t tease. It isn’t nice.”

  “Whatever you say.” She spoke in a normal voice, but then her body shook as if she couldn’t contain herself. “Okay, I’m taking a risk, but I’m going for it.” She raised her hands, as if to direct or ward off. “I’m just saying this outright. I don’t know where things stand with you and Seth, but it’s okay to have more than one boyfriend. It’s different from being officially committed to someone. You can date two different guys at the same time. Or people can. Honestly, I’m not sure you can. But you can. It’s allowed.”

  “Date two? Seriously, Victoria. Right now, I’m not even dating one.” I picked up the plates and kept working. “Besides, I have a feeling it’s different in small-town America. I think people are less anonymous here than in a city.”

  “Do you still see Seth as having boyfriend potential? I know he’s long distance for now.”

  I struggled with the answer. Things once said stayed said. I bit my lip, then released it. I admitted, “He’s long distance and looks to be staying that way for a while.”

  She waited, apparently expecting me to say more. When I didn’t, she asked, “Can that work for you?”

  “He wants me to fly out there and visit him. See LA. See California.”

  “Go.” Her face lit with excitement. “Why not? Go check it out.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She stared at me, not speaking, but I could see her brain was full of words that wanted to be said. I gave her credit for not blurting them out.

  I said, “I think he needs time to find out whether
the job, the faster-paced life he’s living now, is what he truly wants for his future.”

  “What about what you want?”

  “I want to stay here.”

  “So it’s a case of here or him?”

  “Potentially.”

  Impulsively, I covered my face, but only for a moment. I looked at Victoria and asked, “How am I supposed to know what’s real? I care about Seth, truly. I looked forward, so much, to him coming back to stay, but now . . .”

  “Now you’d rather be building a bookcase?”

  I gasped.

  Victoria smirked. “I’m good, aren’t I?”

  “Seriously, Victoria. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Then don’t do anything. Not right now. Give it time. Seth isn’t here. Will is. Get to know him.”

  I stared at her. She made it sound so reasonable.

  She said, “And thanks for not biting my head off. I appreciate that.”

  I put my arms around her in a wordless hug. Neither of us spoke. When I stepped back, I touched my lashes. “Allergies, I think.”

  “Probably. So hey, let’s get to work.”

  “Yes, please.” I was delighted to change the subject. “I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to focus.”

  With a sly look she said, “No joke.”

  “Stop it. He’s shy, Victoria. Please don’t tease him. Or me. It’s cruel.”

  “Shy?” She held a stack of plates. “Might be he’s just shy around you. But don’t mind me. I’ve been wrong before. I’ll finish putting the dishes in these cabinets and the utensils in these drawers. Why don’t you set up the pantry?”

  Victoria had never been able to resist being nosy or teasing. I found I didn’t mind so much. I reopened the kitchen door in case Will called for help, and we both got to work. In the middle of our concentrated effort, Victoria said, “Do you have an official start date? A grand opening date?”

  “Not yet. I’m thinking I won’t officially open for business until spring.”

  “Spring? That’s months away. Practically a lifetime.”

  “Downstairs is coming along nicely, and the grounds, too, but I have a lot to do upstairs, most notably adding in bathrooms.” I picked up the boxes of pasta. “There’s still lots to do before I’m ready for overnight guests.”