The Perfect Plan

by Carina Taylor

  Libby stood there, wondering if she should play possum and pretend she couldn't see him. The moment ranked up there at the top of Libby's "Most Mortifying Moments."

  She gave a little wave and then dashed toward her room all while trying to cover as much as she could with her t-shirt. From now on, she would buy t-shirts five sizes too big in case of a repeat underwear exposure situation.

  She slammed the door, put some shorts on, then fanned her red face as she went back downstairs.

  Marcie was stacking bags by the front door when Libby came through the hallway.

  "Good morning, dear," Marcie said as she patted Libby's shoulder. "I'm heading over to help set up for The Garden Show this morning. The judging starts at three, and then everyone heads back to the senior center for the festival part of it. They'll announce the winner at seven tonight."

  Marcie bent down to check the contents of the bag.

  "So much to do today! Evan said he would drive you over after you guys have breakfast. I'm enlisting you two to help set up." Marcie glanced at Libby out of the corner of her eye. "We need some young, strong people."

  "Sure thing, Marcie. How about I help you carry these bags to the car? You can leave them in there until I get there to help you unload."

  Marcie looked visibly relieved. "Perfect."

  Libby slipped on her tennis shoes and began grabbing the tote bags. Some were light, and others felt like they were packed with lead. Libby wasn't going to bother asking what was in them.

  As soon as Marcie closed the front door, she looked around before asking Libby, "Have you told Evan yet?"

  "No, I haven't. Not sure if I will."

  Marcie's eyes bulged at that. "But don't you think he should know?"

  Libby narrowed her eyes at Marcie. "He didn't tell me something so important."

  Marcie set her bags in the back of her car. "Good point. But is it something worth ending your friendship over?"

  Libby shrugged as she set down the bags she was carrying. "I haven't decided yet. I do know that if we stand a chance at a relationship, he's going to have to be a whole lot more honest."

  "People mess up sometimes, Libby. At least give him a chance to show you he can do better."

  Libby nodded. "I know he can do better. That's the problem. It's hard to stay mad when he was so well-meaning and only wanted me to have a great job."

  "Whether or not you and Evan date, you will always be welcome here, I hope you know that." Marcie pulled her into a tight hug before she jumped into the car and screeched out of the driveway.

  Libby barely had a chance to step back before getting run over. With a sigh, she headed back into the house. It wasn't that she wanted to hold a grudge against Evan. She wanted a reason to trust him. She wanted to know that he believed in her as a person.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her of more pressing things. Libby was hungry, but she didn't want to be close to Evan. She hoped he was somewhere other than the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a cup of yogurt. She turned around as she peeled the foil lid off the top. Evan stood there, leaning against the countertop, eating a bowl of cereal.

  "Hey, Wonder Woman," he said with a little grin.

  Libby wondered if the old wooden floor could swallow her up, because Evan knew what underwear she was wearing today. "Hey, she's an icon. When I grow up, I want to be Gal Gadot."

  "You've got another six inches before you're there."

  "I guess I'll have to settle for my Wonder Woman underwear, Batman," she added with a smile, remembering his boxers from a few weeks back. She dodged out of the kitchen as he threw a towel at her.

  She made it all the way to her room before she realized she forgot a spoon for the yogurt.

  THE morning was spent running errands and completing tasks for Marcie. The Garden Show committee was close to hyperventilating that the trophy display wasn't finished yet, and it was close to noon.

  It turned out, Lingering Linda from church handmade the trophy each year. She molded and shaped it out of clay and then painted it and fired it. The pottery was a model of flowers springing up from a square base. Roses, daffodils, and a variety of other flowers that Libby didn't recognize made up the trophy stand. Whoever won The Garden Show would go home with a beautiful piece of pottery to show for their work.

  Libby had been given the job to carry the trophy to the display table. Leah and Doris were put on a decorating team together (Libby wondered who had thought that was a good idea) and had been handed a lot of material to work with. It would be a miracle if they completed the display by five o'clock.

  Libby carried the trophy toward the display table that Leah and Doris were readily arguing over. Doris wanted the trophy sitting to the left, and Leah wanted it sitting to the right. There was no way Libby was going to get in the middle of that — not after her fight with Evan.

  She was confrontation-ed out, if that were a word.

  "Move that garland to the left. That will make room for the trophy on the right side," Leah was demanding as she slammed her hand on the right side of the table.

  Doris leaned her weight onto both hands on the left side of the table. "I don't think so."

  Libby plopped the trophy in the center of the table and spun around as fast as she could. In doing so, her hip bumped the table, and the whole thing started to rock.

  Libby watched in horror as one of the table legs gave way. The entire table crashed to the ground, and the trophy fell to the asphalt with a loud crash. The pottery exploded. It was like it had been vaporized. Nothing but fine dust floated through the air.

  Libby choked on her tongue. This was a sacred thing. The Garden Show was to Colter what Independence Day was to the United States. Libby might as well have declared tyranny. The handmade piece of pottery was one of the tenets of the garden show.

  "This is your fault!" Doris shrieked. Libby braced herself for a well-deserved accusation.

  Except Doris wasn’t looking at Libby. She was pointing at Leah. Libby didn't understand how it could be Leah's fault when Libby was the one who bumped the table.

  "This!" Leah waved her arms around at the table. "This was because of you."

  "Me?" Doris shrieked.

  Libby turned around and tried to find someone who could help solve this problem. It would be someone other than Leah or Doris. She wasn't sure she could face Lingering Linda and tell her that all her hard work was shattered into a million pieces. Libby didn't have it in her to be that cruel.

  Evan intercepted Libby just as she stepped through the doors into the senior center.

  "I heard screaming. Is everyone okay?"

  "Leah and Doris. And we're down one trophy."

  "How did that happen?"

  "I bumped the table, then a leg gave out, and then everything crashed to the ground. Leah and Doris are still busy trying to play the blame game."

  "Whew, no wonder you got out of there. Their bickering could drive a saint to swear."

  "What about the trophy?"

  Evan raised his eyebrows. "Well, we could try and glue it back together."

  Libby shook her head and made an explosive sound while raining her hands through the air.

  "That bad, huh?"

  Libby nodded. "Come on. Someone has to break the news to Linda. She's the one who takes care of all things trophy related."

  "Or we could find Grandma. She'll have a good idea."

  Libby didn't feel like breaking the news, so she liked Evan's idea way better. She followed Evan out the door to the back gravel parking lot where Marcie was unloading a rolled up banner from the back of her car.

  Evan grabbed the large banner from her and followed after her. Libby walked beside him. She realized it was the first time she had talked willingly to him since he had picked her up on Thursday morning. He was acting overly polite, and it was driving her crazy. Besides the awkward underwear incident earlier in the morning, he had been walking on eggshells.

  Of course, Libby ran
from the room anytime she saw him. Now that she knew he felt the same about her as she did about him, she wasn't sure how to act around him.

  "Grandma, Leah and Doris were in charge of setting up the trophy table."

  Marcie looked at Evan in horror. "You can't be serious."

  "Cross my heart."

  "Something must have happened. Tell me."

  Libby coughed, "Shattered trophy."

  Marcie groaned. "Can we glue it?"

  Libby grimaced and shook her head.

  "Grandma, I was wondering—"

  "Sure thing, dear. It's in the den downstairs," Marcie told him. "An excellent idea."

  Evan set the banner down in front of the flagpole and leaned over and kissed Marcie's head. "You're a genius, Grandma."

  "I know," Marcie replied smugly. "Now, hurry up. Libby and I will hang the welcome sign."

  Evan took the keys from Marcie and headed back to the car.

  "Now," Marcie turned to Libby, "tell me more about that job you're looking into."

  "Congratulations to Monty Owens!"

  Monty won. After hours of touring the homes entered into The Garden Show, the judges came back to the senior center where the main event was set up. They deliberated over the results while people milled around, hoping to be the first to hear who won this year’s trophy.

  The panel of five judges finally decided on the winner. It was unanimous. The judges stood on the portable stage in the center of the parking lot to announce the winners of the rose competition, the container garden competition, and then the highlight of the year: the winner of The Garden Show.

  Monty.

  A flurry of voices spoke over each other.

  "How?"

  "I heard he wasn't even organic."

  "I heard he hired his work done."

  Marcie rolled her eyes when she caught Libby's eye. "No one wants to admit that Monty lived outside in his flower beds and that he might have won because he spent more time on his house than the rest of us. Heaven forbid someone unexpected should win."

  Libby couldn't help but laugh. "It's true. He was out there every time I went by."

  Marcie smiled then glanced to where Evan was standing next to Ellie. She scowled. "Have you told him yet?"

  "Nope. Been a little busy today."

  "Been busy avoiding him, you mean."

  "Look, Marcie, I know you want Evan and me to date, but it might not be in the cards. I'm nervous it will ruin everything. Besides, I feel like I'm forgiving him too soon. I'm not even mad at him anymore, but I feel like I should be."

  "Honey, he messed up. But at the time, he thought he was only helping you get a good job. Evan needs someone who can stand up to him the way you do. And I think you've found a perfect solution to this situation. You two will do great together."

  Libby smiled sadly. "Maybe so, Marcie. Maybe so."

  Marcie studied Libby's face for a moment then sighed. "I'm going to run back to the house and grab a jacket. It's getting a little chilly."

  "I'll get it for you, Marcie."

  "No, that's okay, sweetie. It won't take long. I'll drive back."

  "Do you mind checking on Bebe for me? I'm worried she's lonely in the crate by herself."

  "Of course. I'll feed her a little snack too."

  Marcie left, and Libby spotted Bob across the sea of tables. He was waving at her with a deck of cards. She began dodging around people, tables, and mosquitoes. Evan surprised her when he latched onto her arm and pulled her toward the senior center.

  "Evan, what are we doing?"

  "We're going to talk."

  "That sounds like you're going to kill me."

  "I'm thinking about adding your name to the list," Evan admitted as he stopped at a side entrance to the building. "I can't handle it anymore. I've got to know. Do you forgive me?"

  Libby folded her arms across her chest. "I want to. I mean, I do forgive you. It's just. . . How do we keep being friends now? I like you, you like me, but what if we ruin everything? How can we be together if you aren't honest with me? And—"

  "I wanted to stay close to you."

  Libby stopped talking.

  "I wanted to get up the courage to ask you out after college, but then I was settling into my job in Portland, and you were here with my grandma."

  She started twining her fingers together. "How could I go out with someone who doesn't trust me to make good decisions?"

  Evan sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I do trust you, Libby. That had nothing to do with it. I should have told you right away that I'd sent in your resume. I was scared you'd be mad."

  "You were right."

  "When you seemed so happy about the Portland job, I told myself I had done a good thing. I promised myself I'd never interfere like that again."

  "Why did you feel the need to manage my life?"

  "All I wanted to do was help. I swear. I wanted you to have an opportunity at a good job. Not some temp job where you would have to look for something every other month. After watching you scrape by and work so hard to get through college, I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to make something go your way for once. Instead, I came across as a controlling jerk. I should have been up front and told you about the firm and that it would be a great place to apply. That's what I wish I had done."

  Evan was repeating everything he had already told her earlier, but it helped Libby to hear it reiterated. The fact that he had been doing it for the right reasons — wanting to help Libby — helped Libby realize that he wasn't trying to be manipulative. He simply didn't think through his actions.

  "I want to be with someone who can trust me. I don't want to be a charity case in a relationship. When you intervened, that's exactly what I felt like. Even though you had good intentions, it hurt because I felt unequal."

  Evan kicked a foot back and forth across the ground. "Trust me, that is the absolute last thing I think of you. If we're being painfully honest, it comes down to me not having enough courage to tell you how I feel. I wanted to keep you close without the risk of you turning me down."

  Libby looked at him with a faint smile. "Oh, I think I can relate. I forgive you."

  Evan rested both his hands on her hips, tugging her closer. "Thank you. No more going behind your back — even with happy surprises. I want to be the man you can trust."

  "I do trust you. And I do like you, Evan. Why do you think I didn't date in college?"

  "I'd always thought it was because you were too busy," Evan answered. "And because of Needy Ned."

  "Nah, I just couldn't find anyone that could trump my good-looking next door neighbor who kept helping me fix my car."

  "Max is pretty good-looking," Evan admitted.

  Libby smacked his arm. "I wasn't talking about Max."

  Once he stopped laughing, he reached for her hand. "Libby. I'm going to ask you out. Officially."

  "Really? And when are you going to do that?"

  "Right now. And you're going to say yes."

  "I am? What happened to not being a controlling jerk?"

  Evan gave her a mock glare. "Libby, would you like to go out with me on a date? Just the two of us. We won't bring Ellie or Lane this time, but I might make an exception for Bebe."

  "Yes," Libby said before he'd even finished speaking. "But I have something to tell you. Something about my job."

  "And what's that?" He brushed a hand up her arm but pulled back when they heard someone yelling his name.

  Pastor's wife Linda was running toward them. "Marcie's collapsed. It might be a stroke."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "Mom, you've got to get here. It's serious. Vince is jumpstarting the ambulance. We're taking her to Riverbend. You can meet us there."

  Silence.

  Libby paced the hallway of Marcie's house. Evan was talking to Charlene on the phone. Dale was out of town for the weekend, and since Vince was back from his cruise, he had offered to fill in for him. Time had stood still when they found Marcie lying
on the couch as pale as paper. They helped her into her bed downstairs and called Vince for help.

  "Yes, she says her chest is paining her. She's having trouble talking. We wanted to put her in the car and go right away, but she said it might be better if there was a professional here. Vince is staying close. Libby and I are going to try and convince her to go to the hospital."

  Libby loved Marcie. The woman felt like family. How dare she try and leave just when Libby wanted her to be a permanent part of her life. Libby wanted her to stick around for another eighty years. Why did something have to happen now?

  Libby couldn't handle waiting any longer. She crept into Marcie's bedroom and sat on the small nightstand next to the bed. Marcie turned toward her and reached out a shaky hand to pat Libby's knee.

  "Promise me," Marcie rasped. "Please promise me you'll stay. This is your home now. I want you to stay. You'll always have a place to belong here."

  Libby swiped at the tears running freely down her face. "Of course I promise. I couldn't leave now. Besides, you'll need someone to help you chase Felicia around the yard. I wouldn't dream of leaving."

  Marcie gave her a faint smile. "I'm glad. You have a new plan now, Libby."

  Libby caught a sob in her throat. Marcie got her. She understood Libby's need for a plan, and now she had a place to belong and call home thanks to this woman.

  Marcie managed a nod in Libby's direction. She squeezed Libby's hand with surprising strength.

  She turned toward Evan who had stepped into the room. "Evan, promise me you'll visit more often. I need to see you."

  Evan blinked his eyes rapidly and nodded.

  "And for heaven's sake, ask Libby out already. Date, get married, have five kids. Just stop pussyfooting around, you idiot," Marcie told him through a cracked voice.

  Libby choked on her sob.

  She looked at Evan, who swallowed audibly and answered, "Sure, Grandma. Would you settle for six great-grandkids instead of five?"