by Hart, Renee
Chapter 4
The next morning, Tessa woke up still in Samson's arms. She felt so warm and snuggly that she didn't want to get up, but she knew she had to get to work. She begrudgingly pulled herself away, then laid a blanket over Samson to let him sleep. She knew that since he tended to work a lot of nights at the music shop, he wasn't much of a morning person. Besides, he looked so cute when he was sleeping. His hair was half out of its usual ponytail and he had a peaceful look on his face. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, then got dressed and left for work.
She spent most of her morning sorting through the emails she'd gotten from various supermarkets and distribution centers, confirming the recall. She updated the database to keep track of which locations had complied and which ones she was still waiting for replies from, then she sent out a round of second notices to any that hadn't responded. She also forwarded the information on the recall to the department responsible for inventory and logistics, so they could account for the amount of product that was being removed from the market.
By the end of the day, there were shipments of thousands upon thousands of apples being sent back to Dunham Enterprises. Some of them would be subject to testing to discover what the problem was. The rest would be destroyed to make sure no one was at risk from eating a potentially contaminated product.
After work, she headed straight for the hospital. She got a visitor's pass and headed for Terry's room. Samson was there, sitting by the side of the bed, talking to Terry. Though when she walked into the room, Tessa saw that Terry was unconscious.
“Hey,” Samson said, rising from his seat and giving her a hug.
“Hey. How's he doing?”
“He's been in and out of consciousness. The doctor said he's going to be fine. They're just trying to get his blood pressure back up. He should be okay to go home tomorrow, maybe.”
“That's good.” She reached over and patted Terry's hand. He stirred a bit, his eyes struggling to open. “Has he said anything yet about what happened?”
“Not yet. He tried, but he's lost his voice. They gave him something to help soothe his throat and help his vocal chords mend.”
Tessa sighed, still trying to figure out what Terry might have called her about.
“Listen,” Samson said, “I've got to get going. I'm due at work. But I'll check in when I get done, okay?”
“All right.” Tessa gave him a quick kiss, then took the chair by the bed. Terry was still fading in and out of consciousness. She squeezed his hand. “Terry? It's me, Tessa. How are you feeling?”
He raised a weak hand and touched it to his lips. Tessa looked around and saw a plastic cup sitting on the table by the bed. She held it up and helped get the straw between Terry's lips. He took a small drink, then started coughing. She grabbed some tissues to help wipe off his chin.
“Terry, you called me yesterday. Do you remember?”
Terry nodded, his movements slow and weak.
“You said there was something wrong. Something I could help you with. Do you remember what it was?”
Terry nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but he could only wheeze and cough. He looked up at her, the strain clear in his eyes. Then he made a gesture with his hand.
She watched the way his hand was moving, not sure what he was trying to say. Then she realized he was making a writing motion. “You want to write it down?”
He nodded.
Tessa dug into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and a couple of pens. She held them out to Terry. He took the black pen first, then dropped it and took the red one instead. She held the notepad up while he drew the pen across it, drawing a red circle.
Tessa frowned at it. She didn't understand what he was trying to say. Then he started scribbling the pen across the circle, filling it in with red.
“What is that?” she asked. The shape was crude, and Terry's hand was shaking. He took the black pen and made a mark near the top of the circle. Then he ran out of strength and laid back on the pillow, letting out a long sigh.
Tessa took the notebook and studied the crude drawing. The black mark near the top looked like some kind of leaf or stem. Which made the drawing look like a piece of fruit.
“An apple?” She looked up at Terry, but he had fallen back to sleep.
Her mind went straight to the recall of Dunham apples. She didn't know if Terry bought any Dunham produce. He mostly grew his own fruit and vegetables in his garden, but of course he didn't have an apple tree. He'd have to buy those at the supermarket.
She tried to gently wake him, but he was deep asleep. On top of that, visiting hours would be ending soon.
She looked around the room, then opened the drawer in the little table by the bed. Terry's things, whatever had been in his pockets when he was brought to the hospital, were there in a labeled plastic bag. She tore open the bag and took out his keys, watching over her shoulder to make sure the doctor didn't see her.
Technically, what she was doing was illegal, but since Terry didn't have any family, there was no one else who could help.
She left the room and found the doctor, asking him a few questions. What she learned didn't make her feel any better.
“He's been suffering from some diarrhea and vomiting,” the doctor said. “That might be part of the cause of his dehydration. It's likely that this was a case of food poisoning. Do you know anything about his diet? I know you mentioned something about a community garden.”
“He grows most of his own produce,” Tessa said. “Though most of our neighbors trade fruits and vegetables. It could have come from anywhere.”
“Well, there's not necessarily any cause for alarm. It could have come from some undercooked meat, from milk or cheese, or from raw produce. The symptoms aren't usually this severe, but due to Mr. Jones's age, and his history of low blood pressure, it hit him especially hard. If any of your neighbors start to show any symptoms, you should suggest they get checked out. In mild cases, they might just need plenty of bed rest and fluids, but you don't want to take any chances.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Tessa headed home and changed out of her work clothes, then she headed down the hall to Terry's apartment. She checked up and down the hall to make sure none of her neighbors saw her going into his apartment. She was confident that Terry would be okay with her doing this, under the circumstances, but some of her neighbors could be nosy, and they might get the wrong idea.
She unlocked the door and slipped inside. Even after she flipped on the lights, the apartment was dim and subdued. The furniture was old, worn, and mismatched, but there was a cozy feeling to the place.
She headed for the kitchen and looked in Terry's refrigerator. It was filled with a lot of Terry's homegrown carrots, potatoes, berries, and tomatoes. There was a pot of some kind of leftover stew, and a couple of containers of some kind of takeout food. And on the bottom shelf there was a plastic bag filled with half a dozen apples.
Tessa pulled it out and ripped the bag open. She pulled out one of the apples and held it up under the light. The little sticker on the side was marked with the logo of Dunham Enterprises.
Chapter 5
“But Dunham did a recall, right?” Samson asked after she explained the situation to him. “I mean, they're handling it. Assuming this is even what made Terry sick.”
“I don't know.” Tessa threw up her hands, then started pacing around Samson's apartment. It was late at night, and Samson had just gotten home from work. “I mean, I'm the one who sent out the recalls. So, yes, it's being handled. But I still feel...”
“Responsible?” Samson asked.
Tessa sighed. Her shoulders slumped. She stared out the window at the garden plots. She hadn't had time to tend to her tomatoes and watermelons for a few days. She'd only briefly checked on them earlier, and they had looked shriveled and pathetic.
“I'm sure there's no one to blame, really,” she said. “The internal investigation hasn't found any signs of negligence. It could have be
en something as simple as poor refrigeration in one of the trucks, or a worker somewhere who forgot to wash their hands after they went to the bathroom. Which might be gross, but it's hardly criminal.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
Tessa stared out the window, not sure what to say. It didn't seem like there was anything to do. Terry was going to be fine. She'd thrown the rest of the apples in the trash, just to be on the safe side. As far as she could figure, it was simply case closed, nothing else to be done. Sure, Terry had the option of seeking a legal settlement with Dunham for his medical bills, though for all she knew, the supermarket had been the ones to mishandle the produce. Most likely, nothing would happen, and Terry would be good as new within a few days.
Though none of that stopped Tessa from feeling the pangs of guilt.
Samson stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “Maybe you should try to keep your mind off it. You have tomorrow off, right? Spend the day in your garden. I'll be right there with you. And I'll bet Mrs. Mackenzie will make some of her famous lemonade.”
Tessa sighed and leaned back against Samson. He was right. She needed to relax.
She spent the night at Samson's, and in the morning, they headed out to tend their gardens. It was a hot, sunny day, and quite a few of their neighbors were out as well. Mrs. Mackenzie had made a jug of lemonade, and Tessa had a glass in between tending to her poor, shriveled tomatoes.
She knelt in the dirt and worked on mixing some more organic fertilizer, hoping her crummy little crops would do better. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with them this year. The heat wave might have been drying them out, though she made sure to water them regularly. And Topher's tomatoes were certainly doing just fine.
She watched him from across the garden. Topher always kept to himself, and he had this strange habit of muttering to himself while he worked. The only word she could think of to describe him was “twitchy.” And yet, despite his strangeness, he grew the best crops in the entire garden. She could see from here as he tended to his tomato vines. They were plump and ripe and the size of his fist.
He looked up and caught her staring. He immediately moved around with his back to her, blocking her view of his tomatoes. She scoffed and shook her head. As if I want to know your great gardening secrets, Topher.
After they'd spent some time tending to their plots, Samson came over and said, “Hey, maybe we should take care of Terry's plot, too. He's been away for a couple of days now.”
“Yeah, good idea. I don't think he'd mind if we did a little weeding and watering.”
“I think he's supposed to be coming home later today,” Samson said. “When we get done, we should head down there and see if he needs a ride. Or at least a little 'welcome home' gathering. It'd be a shame for the poor guy to get out of the hospital and find out there's no one there to meet him.”
Tessa smiled. Samson was always so considerate. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. “You're wonderful, you know that?”
“Who, me?” He smirked and shook his head. “Naww.”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, not caring that they were both still wearing their gardening gloves and getting dirt everywhere.
They both knelt down to start pulling weeds. Then while Samson watered the plot, Tessa took out her gardening shears and started trimming some of the dead leaves off a few of the plants. She noticed some of his plants were shriveled as badly as hers. The leaves were wilting, and some of the stems and vines were limp and lifeless. She couldn't tell if it was only due to a few days of neglect, or if there were something else going on. The damage was the worst at the top of the plants, and on tomatoes that had grown vertically on the trellises throughout the garden. Nearer to the ground, everything seemed fine.
She made a mental note to ask Terry about the damage, and to Google for some answers later on. When she and Samson finished tending the garden, Tessa headed home to shower, then changed into clean clothes to go out and pick up Terry. She and Samson drove down to the hospital together, and they stopped at the gift shop before heading upstairs. They bought a pot of azaleas, and after a short but intense debate about whether Terry was too old for it, a “Get Well Soon” balloon with Sesame Street characters on it.
“You're never too old for Grover,” Samson said as they checked out. Tessa just laughed and shook her head.
When they got upstairs, they found Terry sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, tying his shoes. He still looked weak and a bit under the weather, but he was up and about, and that sent a wave of relief through Tessa. “Terry,” she said. “I'm so glad you're feeling better.”
They gave Terry the gifts. A beaming smile spread on his face. “Well, I never expected such courtesy. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He laughed at the balloon, and examined the azaleas with a gardener's critical eye. They chatted a bit, and he told them everything the doctors had said before they released him.
“Didn't mean to frighten anyone,” he said with a bashful grin. “Must have been something I ate.” He patted his stomach, then winced, clearly still feeling a bit nauseous.
“Don't worry, Terry,” Tessa said. “I checked in on your garden and your apartment, and I threw those apples out.”
She pulled his keys out of her purse and handed them over. He took them, looking up at her with a confused expression.
“Apples?” he asked. “Tessa, what are you talking about?”
“The apples in your fridge. They were bad. I threw them out.”
Terry scratched his head. “You threw out my apples? I hadn't even had any yet.”
Tessa and Samson exchanged a look.
“Terry,” Tessa said. “When I was here before, and I asked you what was wrong, you drew a picture of an apple.”
“Oh, no,” Terry said, shaking his head. “No, Tessa, there's nothing wrong with the apples. I was trying to tell you.”
He made a fist, his jaw taking on a determined set. “I think something's wrong with my tomatoes!”
Chapter 6
While they took the elevator downstairs, Tessa asked Terry about what was going on.
“So, you ate a bad tomato, and that's what got you sick?” She frowned, though she was glad at least that it had nothing to do with her job.
“Bad tomatoes? Heck no!” Terry laughed and slapped his knee. “Tessa, girl, you get some funny ideas. No, I think it was the sushi I ate the other night that set me off. Didn't mean to put a scare in you.”
“I'm confused,” Samson said. “So, what do the tomatoes have to do with anything?”
“That's what I called Tessa for,” Terry said. “What, did you think I called you because I was getting sick? Why would I call you instead of a doctor?”
Tessa rubbed her hand across her face. She silently reminded herself to stop jumping to conclusions, and to actually get all the information before she started panicking next time.
They got off the elevator and headed outside to the car. “Terry,” Tessa said, “why don't you just explain what's going on? Then maybe we can see if we can help.”
“Well, I don't know if you've looked at my crops lately, but my tomatoes are looking really sad. I happened to take a look at yours, and they're having the same problem. But I took a walk around the gardens, and it looks like almost everyone else is doing just fine. But yours and mine, they're almost right next to each other. So, I figured we've got the same problem.”
They got into Tessa's car. “Well,” she said, letting out a sigh of relief, “I'm glad all you were calling me about was gardening tips. I was going to do some research this weekend, see if I can find out what the trouble might be.”
“I've already got a theory on that,” Terry said. “You know everyone talks about Topher, about his fancy, award-winning veggies.”
Samson snorted. “Yeah, I've never much liked him. He always looks like he's up to something.”
“But do you have anything more than suspicion
s?” Tessa asked as she drove out of the parking lot.
“I've seen him spraying something around his plot,” Terry said. His jaw set in a righteous scowl. “Don't know what it is. He says it's all organic. But you know the way the wind gets funneled between the apartment buildings? Well, your plot and mine, we're usually downwind of Topher. Whatever he's spraying, I think it's getting carried onto our tomatoes.”
“But if he's spraying something harmful,” Tessa said, “how come his crops are doing fine?”
“Whatever he uses, he sprays it down on the weeds. Makes sure not to get anything on his plants. But then the wind picks it up, carries it over to our tomatoes.” Terry shook his head, rapping a fist against his knee. “Just gets my goat, it does. He knows the rules, same as everyone else. But he gets so smug.”
When Tessa pulled the car up to a traffic light, she turned around in her seat to look at Terry. “So, what do you think we should do?”
“Do you want to get the crops tested?” Samson suggested.
“Wouldn't matter if we got them tested,” Terry said. “We'd have to be able to prove it was him that did it. And even then, what could we do? He's not breaking any laws. Not really. Just our community rules.”
Tessa turned back around, lost in thought. The light turned green and she started driving, trying to sort through the thoughts in her head. Terry was right. Technically speaking, using chemical pesticides and weed killers wasn't illegal. If they tried to bring Topher to court—assuming he was even the one responsible, since all they had were suspicions—they'd have to somehow prove willful negligence, showing that his use of chemicals was harming their plots. And since the combined value of Tessa and Terry's garden plots was negligible, at least on a monetary scale, they'd be hard pressed to prove they were owed anything. It wouldn't be worth the time and effort to get the courts involved to replace the value of a few tomato plants.
No, pursuing this matter legally would be a waste of time. This was a community matter. The only thing Topher might be guilty of was breaking the community rules and lying to them all. And while that irritated Tessa quite a bit, it wouldn't be anything more than a personal grudge.
