Joan felt the sweat tingle on the back of her neck. “Of course.”
“Then it's settled.”
As Sara and Cal left the ballpark, she could hear Sara thanking Cal as if he had relieved an enormous problem. After watching Cal handle the boys today, she knew he was a skilled problem solver. But what could be so important that an awards banquet needed immediate attention on a Saturday afternoon? Perhaps Blaine had been right about Sara. She was so busy that without constant reminding she wouldn't remember all the events on her calendar. Perhaps that's why Della came with her to the baseball game.
Joan sighed, sat down and looked for Zack on the field. He was helping Benny hold his bat straight. Pride warmed her cheeks. His heart was just like his dad's; kind. She could hardly wait to get home and talk to Roz about the afternoon. She needed some answers.
* * *
“Can you believe she actually remembered our project?”
“It is possible.”
“But why Della Stone? She was completely out of place at the game.”
“Why not? Mayor, school principal, hmm,” Roz tapped her slightly graying hair. “They may have a lot to discuss; kids, funding, projects, scholarships.”
“But a Saturday afternoon meeting?” Joan spritzed a tray of variegated coleus.
“Well, it happens. Might you be thinking instead that shaved ice and a walk home was more important than a meeting?” Roz steadied her eyes on the sunny yellow marigolds she was clipping.
Joan stopped spritzing. “Anything is possible I suppose, but...”
“But?” Roz looked up from the marigolds.
“I think I'm just overly concerned about Zack. I'm glad I didn't mention the shaved ice to him. He would have been so disappointed. You know, the only thing good about losing the game, is that Zack won't be as disappointed if Cal gives up coaching. I mean I am so proud of the way he handled himself. You should have seen him.”
“Yes, he is becoming a fine young man. That said, these marigolds are ready to put out now. Which table shall I set them on?”
“Third on the left, next to the daisies.”
Joan returned to spritzing her collection of new plants while Roz headed to the showroom with a tray of well-trimmed flowers in hand.
That evening Joan fell into the soft pillows on her bed. Her arms and feet ached. The day had been productive, selling most of the petunia pots. She heard the wind kick up. “Can't be hurricane season yet,” she thought. But after she fell into a deep sleep, the rain began to pour.
Chapter 6
A late night storm left the grounds soaked. Puddles glared up at Joan as she walked the garden checking for broken stems and fallen branches. Even the rain garden remained full, as the water attempted to perk through the rocks. Fortunately, the garden only suffered a few broken limbs and fallen leaves. The broken rosebush could be replaced, but not the crushed azalea blooms.
After thoroughly inspecting the grounds for damage and flooding, Joan headed back to the store satisfied she had done all she could. She desperately wanted to get out of her soggy jacket and mud spattered boots. She glanced at the porch, saw Roz sitting on a dry bench and quickened her pace. If Roz was able to get to work on time that meant the storm hadn't caused as much damage as she feared. And if that were true, then city council could still meet this evening and approve the box garden project before the summer heat forced delays until fall. The library grounds desperately needed new landscaping to remove the overgrown brier vines and clumpy weeds.
She climbed the porch, sat next to Roz then tugged at her rubber boots. “I wasn't even expecting rain, let alone a storm. Did you know this was coming?”
“Nada,” Roz said while staring at the sky as if searching for a break in the clouds. “This sky looks like someone took a watercolor brush and painted it shades of grey. Even the weatherman missed it. He predicted light rain.”
“We'll survive. I lost a rosebush and some blooms. But all of Potters' vases are okay. We need to tip the vases to get rid of the water though. And I stood a couple of potted trees back up. That's the worst damage. Even Willie survived. He came for his morning snack as usual.” Joan removed her jacket and hung it next to her boots to dry. “I think we are in for a slow day.”
“Me too. Let's go get coffee. You look like you could use more. I certainly want more tea.” Roz waved her empty mug and turned it upside down. “Besides, the girls have been patiently waiting to show you their new project.”
“Another one?”
“Yes, and this time, they made it for the box gardens. We can use it tonight at the council meeting.”
“I can't wait to see.” As they stepped from the porch, Joan paused when she heard the sound of Buzz Egan's truck driving across the gravel parking lot. The distinct rattle of his old Ford announced his arrival. Joan waited for him while he parked and walked across the soggy grass.
“How did you manage the storm Ms. Joan? You need help cleaning?”
“Thanks Buzz, appreciate the offer but I just finished inspection. We didn't get much damage. How are your bees?”
Buzz lifted his work cap and scratched his forehead. “Hardy buggers. They're still humming this morning.”
“That's a relief. Want coffee?”
“Certainly.”
Buzz and Joan headed for the kitchen. She closed the door behind them and made a mental note to call Potters to let them know their urns were fine. She pushed a thick clump of loose curls behind her ears and considered who else she needed to call. Unable to think of anyone, she joined the others in the kitchen where Lindsey was pouring orange juice and Chloe was buttering toast. “You girls have been working already this morning, I see.”
“Yes ma’am and coffee's ready too.”
“You're darlings.”
While sipping on juice, she spotted Zack at the back door scratching Willie's ears. She sighed. Breakfast would have to wait a few more minutes. She set the juice down and walked past the toast and rolls. “Has he been inside all morning?” she asked.
Zack looked away from his furry friend. “He hates wet. Can he stay in today?”
“He's an outdoor cat.”
“But it's so wet.”
Joan looked into Zack's pleading eyes, hoping he would give up his request to bring Willie indoors. But Willie was stronger than either of them when it came to emotional tugs of war. Willie arched his back, rubbed against Zack's leg and purred. Joan knew she already lost this fight. Besides, Zack loved animals.
“Alright, just today. Now do you want any toast or juice? The girls made it.”
“Nah, I want to stay with Willie, he was pretty scared last night.”
Joan wondered if he sneaked the cat in the house at the first sound of thunder so it could sleep indoors, warm and dry. Zack was either tenderhearted or responsible. Either way, she let him stay with Willie. Breakfast could wait.
“Alright, but if you get hungry come get some toast”
“Thanks. And can I stay home today to take care of Willie?”
“Take care of Willie? He looks fine.” Joan arched her slim brow, surprised she'd overlooked that there could be more to this story than a wet cat. “What's up Zack?”
“I hate baseball.”
“Bad practice yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk?”
“No.”
“Okay, I understand.” Joan knew she would have to help her son figure out his feelings. “Is this what happened? You lost a game. Practice is making things worse and you no longer want to play, right?”
“Yep.”
“I see. But you still need to go to school.”
Zack moaned.
“This is why. Before you quit, talk to coach Reardon. Okay?”
“But what if he doesn't let me quit?”
“He won't. He can't. Let's just give him a chance before you leave.” He shrugged and continued to pet Willie. She patted his shoulder. “Will you be okay?”
“Yeah.”
Even though he said yes, she knew that he still wasn't convinced, but talking about it further wouldn't help so she headed back to the kitchen.
At the breakfast table, Roz was biting into toast. Buzz was sipping black coffee. Joan filled her mug with coffee then quizzed the girls. “I hear you girls started another project?”
“We did. You got to see this.” Lindsey jumped from the table, grabbed a calendar from the buffet, and held it up for display. Azalea blooms covered the front jacket. “Look inside,” she flipped to the January calendar. The days were marked with lunar cycles, holidays, and seasonal projects.
“We even included pruning schedules for the most common shrubs.” Chloe squawked.
“Let me look at this,” Joan said as she flipped through the months. “This is special. Anyone who loves gardening will love this. You've done well.”
“Let me take a look at this one-of-a kind calendar,” Buzz said. “Is it something I could use for my bees?”
“You could Buzz.” Lindsey quipped. “We made it for everybody who loves flowers and for Joan's box gardeners.”
“This is perfect.” Joan patted Lindsey's hand. “You are thoughtful my dear. But remember, the project still needs to be approved. We hope it does tonight.” Joan rubbed her fingers across the glossy calendar. “But even if we don't get approved, we're still going to sell these calendars at the front registers.”
Lindsey's blue eyes lit up like morning sky. “Awesome.”
“And,” Buzz added, “I'm gonna take a calendar to Blaine. He might publish them.”
“Thank you Buzz.” Lindsey jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck.
* * *
That evening, Roz and Joan packed the car and rechecked their to-do list twice. Satisfied they had finished the project, they hugged the girls goodbye.
Joan reached for Zack, “Do not wait up, got that?”
“I do.”
“Good, I'll tell you about it in the morning first thing. I promise.”
“Okay Mom.”
Joan watched Zack, Chloe, and Lindsey limp back to the house while Roz waited for her in the car. She wondered how Roz could be so patient when they were leaving the children with a sitter even if it was just for a few hours. Perhaps having a second child made her more of an expert at raising children. She was certainly more relaxed. Joan brushed the thought aside. Another child was not an option for her.
“It turned into a nice night, cool and clear skies,” Roz pointed out.
“Indeed. This is what we have waited for.”
The drive to the library had taken less time than packing the car with the projector, laptop and handouts. When they reached the library, George Peterman, the skinny Alderman from ward ten, greeted them with an agenda. “You ladies are early this evening.”
“We have a lot of set-up tonight.” Roz said while scanning the agenda.
“Set-up?” George began fumbling at his pockets as if searching for an exploded ink pen.
“Yes, for the box garden presentation.” Joan said.
“I don't recall...”
Roz groaned at the agenda. “You're shitting me?”
Joan's mouth gaped open until she collected her thoughts. “Excuse me?”
“We're not listed. I can't believe it. How did this happen?” Roz's eyes gleamed like wet pools on a moonlit night.
The color drained from George's face.
As if to steady the situation, Joan swiped the agenda from Roz's shaking hands. “We're not even mentioned.”
Joan flipped the agenda over several times hoping to find their presentation listed. “Sara just told me two days ago she was looking forward to this meeting.”
George took two steps back. “I am so sorry. I don't know what happened.” Color began to creep across George's cheeks. “This is what I can do. Tonight, at the end, I'll give you some time. Enough to at least mention your project.”
Flustered, Joan hesitated for a moment. “I appreciate that George, but we have several customers that are looking forward to renting space as soon as this project gets approved. We need your review quickly.”
“And this project helps the library. That empty lot should have been fixed years ago. It's an eyesore. You can't put this off any longer.” Roz scolded.
“I see, but without the mayor here tonight, there is nothing I can do.”
“Not here? But she just reminded us two days ago,” Joan balked.
“Again, I apologize, but there's nothing further I can do.”
Joan looked at Roz. She was about to accept George's offer but needed Roz's okay. Her gentle nod gave Joan exactly what she was looking for. “Alright George, we will wait. Thank you for the time.”
“Your welcome,” George bowed slightly, turned and quickly headed to the closed doors of the meeting hall.
Roz's stomach growled loud enough for Joan to hear. “Unbelievable, wouldn't you say?”
“I can't even talk about this. It's gonna be a long night. We need tea.”
“I'll take espresso.”
“Sit it out at Holden's?”
“I'm game.” Joan looked at her car loaded with stuff she didn't need. She recalled all the work it took to create a proposal. And now, all that effort seemed nothing more than a waste of time. Indeed, it was a good night to just sit and do nothing at Holden's. It was an even better night to drop back and punt for awhile, maybe a long while, before they committed to anymore projects.
Chapter 7
The morning rain drizzled like a broken coffee pot while Joan deadheaded a tray of snapdragons. The snaps had grown so fast that the blooms quickly wilted and died. She pinched the tops, removing the brown faded flowers, leaving only a few buds on the stems. Concentrating on the delicate buds made her forget about the evening. But with each new tray of flowers, the memory popped into her head.
She recalled the ride home. Brooding silence had killed any desire to talk about the evening. Neither of them wanted to admit failure. Joan had offered to unload the car, but they decided to leave everything alone. The boxes, posters and even the projector would stay in the car until morning. Instead of celebrating and sipping wine, they went home hoping to forget about the night.
George may have promised them time at the end of the meeting, but most of the committee members weren't able to stay. They politely sited the usual excuses; babysitter, illness, early riser. In the end, Joan lost the urge to negotiate for another meeting. Even Roz began to looked frayed. They left without a word. It was hard to admit that all their work turned into nothing but wasted time, with no chance of being heard, let alone approved.
Joan dipped her clippers in a jar of bleach water and continued to pinch blooms. Working with the flowers made her feel productive and useful. How many more flowers could I have grown if I hadn't wasted time on the box garden project? At this point it didn't matter. She had to focus on calling all those interested in the garden project, and she wasn't ready to tell them it was a bust. Not yet.
The sound of the nursery door opening, made her look up from the trays.
“Hi mom,” Zack said as he poked his head in the nursery. His backpack looked full of school supplies and hung from his shoulders. “Sorry about last night.”
Joan set her clippers down and untied her apron. “Thanks, but we'll be just fine. It looks like you're ready to walk to the bus. Everything packed?”
“Ya. You know, I thought about what you told me last night.”
“Oh, Zack, please don't worry. We'll find another project.”
“That's what I mean mom.” He stiffened his back like a solider getting ready to salute. “I figure we could turn some of our gardens into box gardens.”
“I like it.” Joan stroked his head. “I like it so much, you made me smile.”
“So can we do it?”
“I'll be talking to Roz today, then we'll see. Let's talk about it later, after you get back from school,” Joan said as they left the nursery.
The
rain continued to drizzle as they reached the porch. Joan pulled a red umbrella from the coat stand. “I think you'll need this today. By the way, forgive me for not asking, but how did your talk with Coach Reardon go yesterday? Are you leaving or staying with the team?”
Zack shook the umbrella and popped it open. “I didn't get the chance.”
“I thought you wanted to talk to him?”
“I'll see him today. Besides, it's not that big a deal.”
“For sure?” Joan wondered how he could switch his attitude in a day from doom to nonchalant. Her eyes swept over him searching for clues, but came up empty.
“It's for reals Mom.”
“Alright, but if you need me I'm here.”
Zack turned, launched from the porch and twirled the umbrella overhead as he walked toward the bus stop. He stomped from puddle to puddle, until he reached the stop. After he got on the bus, the orange heap drove away and disappeared around the corner.
The sound of Roz's jeep crunching over the gravel parking lot made her look away from the bus stop. Roz parked in the guest lot, closest to the entryway. Then she clutched her pocketbook, shoved the door open and jogged to the porch.
“Still raining today?” Roz grumbled as she reached the top step.
“Just drizzle. Come on, let's get inside.” Roz swiped the rain off her jacket and followed Joan into the store. She hung her jacket on the courtesy coat rack while Joan poured tea.
“Well, I say rain, but I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, I thought about last night.”
Joan groaned. “Me too. Hope you slept more than I did.”
“Probably.” Roz squeezed a large stream of honey into her tea. “Here's what I think we should do. Since it's gonna be lousy outside today, we won't have a lot of customers. I say we call everyone that wanted a box garden today and tell them about last night's shutout.”
“Ouch, sounds pissy.” Joan glanced toward the kitchen cabinets until she spied the hidden English muffins, Roz's most soothing treat.
“Damn pissed off is right. Are all politicians, even the local nobodies, just rude or incompetent or both?” I can't believe they don't have it together. All our work treated like, poof, nothing.” Roz flailed her thick arms through the air.
Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1) Page 4
