If Not for a Bee

by Carol Ross

Emily had arrived early and set up the room for her so she could pick up some medication at the pharmacy before it closed and still make it to class on time.

  “You are brilliant, do you know that?” The kind words seemed to flow from his tongue.

  “Thank you, but it’s not difficult.”

  “Emily said you make your own patterns? That looks difficult to me. And you’re so creative.”

  “Not really. I just—”

  “You made my sister a sweater with Christmas elves, and cookies and doughnuts wearing little stocking hats.”

  “She does like her sugary treats. Did you know the Donut Den has named a pastry after her? It’s called the Emily.”

  “I did hear that,” Aidan said with a laugh. “Seriously though, remember when you said that you didn’t want to do this interview?”

  “Yes...” She answered tentatively, having no idea where this could now be headed.

  “That wasn’t solely because of me—was it? Because you didn’t want to interview me in particular?”

  She thought about the question. “Well, that was a lot of it.”

  “But if you were a normal reporter you would want to do it, no matter what. Normal reporters want to interview anyone who will give them a story—slimy politicians, idiotic celebrities, third-world dictators, serial killers...”

  Janie frowned. “Yeah, that’s true I suppose. I’ll be honest—I don’t have that drive.”

  Aidan stretched and settled against the counter, then asked, “What do you want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What are your goals, aspirations?”

  She thought for a moment. Someone as driven as Aidan probably wouldn’t understand, but Janie didn’t know how to answer the question any way but honestly. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be a wife and a mother... All the domestic stuff that goes along with that—the stuff I get to write about in my column. I know it probably sounds boring and mundane to you, but that’s what I want. That, and to see my boys become happy, productive adults.”

  “That doesn’t sound boring.” Aidan studied her for several seconds. “Who did you idolize when you were growing up?”

  “When I was a little girl my role models were all domestic divas, gardening experts and great cooks—like my grandma and Mrs. Canterbury.”

  “Mrs. Canterbury?”

  Janie grinned. “She was a friend of my grandma’s. She wore these long, colorful flowing skirts that she sewed herself and grew dahlias the size of dinner plates and she taught me how to knit. And when I learned how to knit...” She felt silly saying it, but he had been honest with her and she knew it wasn’t easy for him to reveal things about himself. So she went on. “Something clicked into place in my brain. I don’t know how to explain it exactly—but it still gets me through the tough times. The feel of the yarn in my hands and making something beautiful...

  “Right before Mrs. Canterbury passed away she gave me all of her knitting needles and literally an entire roomful of yarn and patterns that she’d created. She was such an inspiration to me. That’s when I started creating my own patterns. It’s really special seeing a person wear something that I made just for them. It’s... I’ll always be grateful to her.”

  Janie stopped talking and looked at Aidan, expecting to see his teasing grin or even that confused furrow in his brow. But instead he seemed captivated, like he completely understood. So she finished the thought. “Aside from my children and my family, knitting brings me my greatest joy.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “ASK ME ANYTHING.”

  Janie glanced up at him. “Anything?”

  He closed one eye and made a pained face and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s stick to the rules that Drum sent.”

  Aidan had let her choose what they were going to do that morning, so she’d turned the tables on him. He was helping her plant lettuce, spinach and peas. Well, he mostly watched and handed her things so he didn’t get his bandaged hand dirty.

  “Sure, but you do realize that you get to read the article before it’s published, right? You can take a red pen and scratch away all you want.”

  “I know that in theory. But I’ve learned there are certain things that once they are out there floating around in the ether you can’t get them back again.”

  Janie frowned. “That’s true, I suppose.”

  “Um, yeah it is—have you heard of that big internet warehouse in the sky where all kinds of information is being stored? It’s getting a lot of people in trouble.”

  “Aidan...are you paranoid?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe,” he joked. “Is technology on the list?”

  Janie didn’t remember seeing that particular subject, although the list was pretty long and included some peculiar topics like politics, religion, where Aidan lives when he’s not traveling, the kind of car he drives, Emily—no details other than the fact that he has a sister and that she’s younger—pharmaceuticals and global warming.

  “No, not that I recall.”

  “Hmm. I should have Drum add that.”

  “Since we’re discussing the list, can I ask a couple questions regarding it?”

  “Not if it’s something on the list.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m not getting paid enough for this.”

  He chuckled and poured some seeds into his good hand. He held them out for her. “I know the list probably seems random to you, but I promise there is a reason for each and every item on there.”

  Janie grimaced.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Honestly? I suspect you might actually be a little paranoid.”

  She recalled his excuse for the conversation she’d overheard—the deceitful article someone had printed about him—but she couldn’t imagine how all of these things could have been included in one article, or how they could have been so damaging. Plus, he’d said the list had been compiled over the last couple of years. “Interesting...” he said and grimaced as if he were bracing himself for something painful. “Ask me something and I’ll prove it to you. All of it off the record?”

  Janie nodded. “Deal—let me grab the actual list out of my bag so I can be accurate.”

  “Good idea.”

  Janie removed her gloves as she jogged toward the house. She retrieved the folded sheet of paper from her bag and returned to the garden.

  She tapped a finger to her lips as she perused the topics. “Hmm... Let’s start with global warming. How can you, as an environmental scientist, not discuss this topic? Laurel is dying to ask you about it. And by the way, aren’t they calling it climate change now?”

  His face erupted with a satisfied grin and she knew she’d somehow walked into a trap.

  “Good question, because this topic hits right on the point. I am not an environmental scientist. That is a separate discipline. There is science behind global warming—on both sides of the issue. I don’t feel qualified to discuss that science, but inevitably journalists ask me to. I get misquoted, and that can, and does, only lead to controversy. ‘Dr. Hollings thinks the earth is warming. Dr. Hollings doesn’t believe the earth is warming. Dr. Hollings loves polar bears. Dr. Hollings hates polar bears.’ In reality I haven’t studied enough of the hard science myself to determine whether the earth is warming or not in any way that would suggest a human cause.”

  “Huh.” Janie thought about how much self-discipline that must entail—to only comment on what you really believed to be scientific fact.

  Janie stared, was captivated really, because sometimes his smart talk was fascinating and made him seem even more...attractive. That is, when he wasn’t lecturing, or criticizing her parenting skills. She pretended to study the list again, hoping the warmth in her cheeks wasn’t noticeable to him.

  “What about re
ligion? What’s the problem there?”

  Aidan reached over and smoothed the dirt over the lettuce seeds he’d meticulously placed one-handed in the trench he’d dug. “I like to explore the local culture when I’m working. I’ve been photographed in a couple completely innocuous situations that were twisted by journalists to the point that one of them speculated that I might be practicing voodoo. That upset my nana.” He patted some dirt into place over the seeds.

  Janie had actually seen that story online. She hadn’t thought a thing of it, but she could see how it might bother a person. It would bother her if someone printed that about her. Her mom would go through the roof if she read something that bizarre about either of her children.

  “Okay, but what about Emily? That seems straightforward and she’s interesting, too. Your relationship would be fun to include in the article.”

  He reached into the basket of seeds on the ground. He chose one and held up the spinach package for her inspection. She nodded.

  “Agreed. But you are aware of the fact that she used to work for one of the largest oil and mineral extraction companies in North America?”

  Of course. Janie should have seen that one coming. People wouldn’t like the fact that Emily’s stepfather’s company, Cam-Field Oil & Mineral, “destroyed” the very environment Aidan tried to save. Janie was beginning to see his point. A person who valued their privacy and/or their reputation as a serious scientist could get themselves into real trouble.

  She studied Aidan for a moment and debated about whether she should apologize for the unfair assumptions she’d made, especially since she’d been furious with Aidan about doing the same with her. She was happy she hadn’t voiced hers aloud—although she had made some comments to Shay and Laurel.

  She thought about how protective he was of his mother and something occurred to her. “The pharmaceutical industry doesn’t really like the naturopathic realm, right?”

  He grinned and held out a cupped palm that was full of seeds. “The two schools of thought are often at odds.”

  Janie believed her life was full of difficulties and complexities—and it was. But, in an entirely different way, so was Aidan’s. Life’s challenges and complications were all relative, so why had she overlooked this fact where Aidan was concerned?

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT two weeks the boys spent almost every day after school with Aidan for at least a few hours, giving Janie time to spend with the twins or to tackle an extra task on her perpetual to-do list. She hadn’t asked how he’d managed to get Gareth to agree, but he seemed to be enjoying the experience right along with Reagan. On the weekends the boys spent hours with Aidan, so she’d even managed to get extra time knitting.

  According to the boys’ daily reports, the work varied. They would sometimes scour the countryside for hours searching for bees. Or they would head straight to the lab, where they would be assigned various jobs, the details of which Reagan relayed with the excitement a different kid might describe a new video game.

  Aidan would drop off the boys at home unless Janie worked late or happened to be in town for some reason. Occasionally he joined them for dinner. At the end of the evening, often while doing dishes, playing basketball or games with the boys, or entertaining the twins, he would take a few minutes to answer questions for the interview.

  Janie felt like she was getting some good material, even as it was coming in bits and pieces.

  Now she shuffled the cards for one more game of rummy. She’d put the twins to bed and the older boys had bowed out of the last game of cards to watch the Mariners baseball game.

  “So, what’s your favorite part about being a botanist?”

  Aidan looked thoughtful as he scooped up his cards and carefully filed them into place to form his hand. The way he held them loosely with his bandaged fingers made her smile.

  “This is where I’m supposed to say making a difference in the world or discovering a new species?”

  Janie looked up from the hand of cards she held. “You’ve discovered new plant species?”

  He smiled. “Yes, although in most of the cases I think that someone surely had stumbled onto the species before me. They just hadn’t bothered telling anyone.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “It’s not that difficult. There are a couple thousand new ones discovered every year. Estimates are that there are still a few million undiscovered species.”

  “Wow...that means there could be plants out there that hold the solution to countless health problems, right?”

  His eyes latched on to hers. “My mom believes the cures to nearly every disease lie in the plant kingdom. It’s simply a matter of discovering the right formulas.” His lips tugged up into a proud grin.

  Janie had noticed this trait before and she liked it, this obvious respect and fondness he held for his mother. “You don’t think she’s correct?”

  He drew a card, slid it into his hand. “My mom is more of an...artist than me—a dreamer. I’m not one to speculate about something without evidence or facts, but I will admit that she’s right more than she’s wrong.” He discarded an eight of hearts.

  Janie picked it up. She’d noticed that often he tended to divulge additional information if she remained silent and let him talk. She wasn’t disappointed now.

  “Remember I told you about how I don’t like reporters?”

  “Uh-huh.” She flipped a two of spades onto the pile.

  “Well, you know my mom is an herbalist. She develops natural remedies—botanicals. A couple years ago she was working on a formula for a sleep aid. There was this woman—Meredith is her name. She was a friend... I thought she was a friend. Anyway, the formula is worth a lot of money—my mom is in the process of selling it right now. But Meredith stole the formula from my mom. I discovered what she’d done before she could do anything, but...”

  Janie slowly lowered her cards to rest on the table, outraged on his behalf—on his mother’s behalf. “That’s...horrible.”

  “Yep, and at about the same time she published a very unfavorable article about me. She wasn’t even a journalist. She was employed in PR for the company who was trying to develop a part of a large rain-forest preserve in Brazil where I was working at the time. I was against the development because of some rare plant species—one of which my mom was using in her sleep aid. Meredith accused me of trying to halt the development in order to line my mom’s pockets.”

  “Aidan, that’s outrageous. I’m so sorry.”

  His gaze dipped down as he drew a card. “I wanted you to know one specific reason why I don’t trust reporters.”

  “That would do it for me, too. What happened? How did it turn out?”

  “Like I said, nothing happened with the formula, but the article about me was published online. Luckily this was around the time we hired Drum, our agent. He’s a computer whiz and somehow he obliterated the article. It disappeared. I’m sure you could still find the article if you looked hard enough. But the experience left me...wary. And I was already wary to begin with.”

  Janie thought about that warehouse in the sky he’d mentioned the other day and the significance it could hold for him. “I understand. Thank you, for telling me.”

  His eyes looked so incredibly gray, like the wintry mist that sometimes crept inland from the ocean. Janie thought about the extremely condensed version of this story he’d relayed a little while ago. She’d blown him off and told him it didn’t matter. She felt absolutely terrible about that. Funny how much an opinion could change when you were presented with a bigger picture.

  * * *

  AIDAN HAD BEEN giddy to get the stitches removed from his hand. By the following week he started playing basketball with Bering, Tag and some of their friends either at Bering’s or at the community center—and Gareth often participated, too. Janie hoped i
t wasn’t too soon.

  Gareth gushed about how well Aidan played, even though he still favored his injured hand. One Wednesday Tag organized a basketball tournament at the community center. The boys had a half day of school and her mom had taken the twins swimming so Janie made arrangements to pick up Gareth there after the tournament.

  Janie had spent the morning at the newspaper and was looking forward to an evening with all four of her boys. They were going to make pizza and watch a movie on DVD. The latest superhero adventure had just been released.

  When she arrived she immediately noticed a group of women crowded around the edge of the outdoor basketball court. Janie texted her mom to let her know she was there. Thanks to Emily the community center now had wireless internet access, so she took a moment to check her email on her phone.

  Janie heard the comments before she could see any of the action. “Oh. Wow. Those abs... He is so...hunky,” Lucille Croft whispered loudly and Janie absently wondered whom Lucille had her sights set on these days.

  A voice she thought might belong to Tricia Sands added to the mix. “He reminds me of that one actor who runs around all the time in movies with no shirt on? The dishwater blond with the Southern accent?”

  “He does! I know who you’re talking about—I could watch him stare at the wall if he did it shirtless...”

  “That’s just...magnificent,” Jacinda chimed in reverently and Janie imagined that was exactly how the science teacher would sound if she was ever to witness the phenomenon of cold fusion.

  “I’ve never seen abs like that in real life.” That comment came from Shay and made Janie curious. Jonah was a good-looking guy with the lean-muscled build of a long-distance runner so if Shay was admiring someone else he must look pretty good.

  “I have.” This from Emily and Janie cringed because she knew she was now talking about Bering. No sister liked to hear another woman talk about how hot their brother was—not even if she was married to said brother.

  Shay echoed her sentiment aloud. “Ick, Emily. That’s my cousin you’re referring to.”