Dress Me in Wildflowers

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Dress Me in Wildflowers Page 13

by Trish Milburn


  “Where did you get this?” Farrin asked.

  “Mothers get to keep some secrets, you know. Do you like it?”

  Farrin’s eyes threatened to water. “Yes.”

  “You’ve about worn out that prom magazine from last year. Thought maybe you’d like to have something besides pictures.”

  “Thank you.”

  Part of her wanted to run into her mother’s arms and hug her, but embarrassment prevented that impulse. Things had been simpler when she was younger, when hugging her mother had been common. But the intervening years had magnified the consequences of every action, especially showing affection for parents. That her classmates teased her about her mother being one of the lunch ladies only made things worse. Sure, they were alone now, but she’d formed the habit of distance and found it difficult to break.

  “Try it on,” her mother said.

  Farrin ran to her room and couldn’t get her worn jeans and sweatshirt off fast enough. When the smooth satin settled on her skin, she closed her eyes and sighed, afraid to hope. Maybe this time, she had imagined hard enough.

  ****

  CHAPTER NINE

  Farrin pushed herself, continuing to climb the trail even when the muscles in her thighs and calves screamed for mercy. By the time she and Tammie were halfway up the three-mile trail, they were huffing and puffing so much conversation was impossible. That was okay with Farrin. She basked in the clomp of her borrowed hiking boots, the breeze rustling the leaves and sending some of them sailing through the air, and the sweet songs of birds she hadn’t heard in years. Several yards behind her, Tammie occasionally exhaled a grunt.

  “You headed to a fire or something?” Tammie managed to say between deep inhalations.

  “I’m afraid if I stop or slow down, I won’t get going again.”

  “I could just roll you down the trail.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

  Her explanation for pushing up the trail at the current speed was the truth, but only partially. She hadn’t hiked in a while, and despite trips to the gym she wasn’t in hiking shape. But the climb also moved her farther away from the memories that had brought tears to her eyes the night before. She had no idea how long she’d sat at the stop sign drowning in 1997, but it had taken a honk from a vehicle behind her to pull her back to the present.

  The headache that had accompanied her back to town had also followed her to bed. Thankfully, it had been just a normal, everyday headache and not a debilitating migraine. And though she’d suffered the residual effects that morning with her coffee, it’d begun to subside when her boots hit the trail.

  Only when the overlook at the end of the trail came into sight did Farrin slow her pace. She reached the fence placed at the edge of the cliff to warn hikers about the drop below and sucked in great gulps of air. Her lungs cursed her for making them work so hard. Didn’t she know they were used to more civilized breathing?

  By the time Tammie, hampered by shorter legs, reached her, Farrin had her own breathing under control.

  “It’s even more beautiful than I remembered,” Farrin said. The expanse of the tree-rich valley from which her hometown derived its name spread out in red and gold waves. She felt almost as if she could dive into it and swim through those vibrant colors.

  “We finally had the right amount of rain this year to make the fall colors pretty. Last year, it was so dry and hot, they just shriveled up and turned brown. Year before, it rained so much you couldn’t even see the mountains for all the fog.”

  “You know, I’ve traveled through New England in the fall and it’s stunning, but there’s just something about this spot.”“Can’t beat a gorgeous view and good memories.”

  Farrin tore her gaze away from the valley to look at Tammie. “I guess you’re right.”

  “So, you going to tell me what happened last night?”

  “When?”

  “Before you came back to the house. You looked like you’d been crying. Did you let Janie get to you?”

  Farrin walked over to a large boulder and scrambled to the top of it to sit. The sun had baked it, and she allowed the delicious warmth to soak into her throbbing legs.

  “Not the present-day Janie, no.”

  Tammie perched on another boulder, looking like a psychologist waiting for her client to spill her deepest secrets. “Did something happen?”

  Farrin glanced out at the ridges. “I went out to look at Drew’s gardens because he’s going to be working on the ones at the inn.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why, but I started thinking about prom night.”

  “It was bound to come up at some point.”

  “I didn’t say anything. Neither did he. I’d seen enough to know he’s a talented landscaper, so I left.”

  “He didn’t say anything?”

  “Not about that. We were just talking about my business, and all of a sudden I had this sharp image of my prom dress. And I swear, I heard Janie’s voice as clearly as if she was sitting beside me.”

  “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to hire her. Maybe you should find someone else.”

  “I’ll be gone soon.”

  “Avoidance doesn’t solve the problem.”

  Part of her found cutting Janie loose very attractive, but what were the chances of Janie finding another job? And it was only temporary.

  “I’m responsible for her losing her job. And she’s got two kids to support on her own. It was hard enough for my mom with just me.”

  “They’re hardly the same person. Janie has much more in the way of resources.”

  “She’s smarter, has an education, yes. But if her father fired her, do you honestly think he’d give her money?”

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. She’s done it before, and I can’t help thinking she’s taking advantage of you.”

  “I’m wiser than I used to be. I don’t need Janie Carlisle’s seal of approval.”

  “That’s good.”

  Farrin ignored the edge of doubt in Tammie’s words. Some memories might still stir deep pain, but she was confident in her reason for helping Janie. It was the right thing to do and she needed the help, nothing more. They weren’t about to become best friends or anything.

  “Wasn’t Drew’s place amazing?” Tammie asked. “He’s probably done more, but I saw it in the spring during the garden tour.”

  “It’s beautiful. I have to say that even after seeing your mom’s back yard, I was stunned.”

  “Football player turned green thumb. I think Drew might give you a run for you money in the category of person who’s changed most since high school.”

  “He is a lot different. I can’t imagine him talking about wildflowers with his football buddies.”

  “Probably not. High school blows that way. Nobody feels like they can be who they really are.”

  “So, any more ideas about your plans to expand?” Farrin asked. Despite her assertions that Drew didn’t affect her, she found it uncomfortable talking about him with Tammie. Maybe it was because they’d talked about him so much as teens. It embarrassed her how hopelessly she’d desired him — not in a sexual way but just to hold his hand, to have him smile at her. How pathetic she’d been.

  Farrin pushed Drew from her mind and focused as Tammie talked about how she just couldn’t find the right location for her second store. “Nothing feels right. I love the place I have now.”

  The Sweet Tooth did have that old-time bakery feel to it. The historic downtown building had once been a general store, and Tammie had used the glass display cases, yellow poplar floors and pressed tin ceiling to perfect effect.

  Farrin raised her face to a gentle breeze and looked down at the distant rooftops of Oak Valley. Maybe they called this spot Inspiration Point for a reason. “What if you expanded out of Knoxville, to appeal to new clientele?”

  “You mean like Nashville or Chattanooga?”

  “No, I was thinking smaller.” She faced Tammie. “The inn might be a mo
re attractive to a buyer if it contained thriving businesses.”

  “You want me to set up shop in Oak Valley?”

  “Maybe. Where do people here get their special bakery items, wedding cakes and such?”

  “Johnson City, I guess, or they make it themselves.”

  A surge of excitement propelled Farrin off the rock. She paced, much as she did when she conducted business on the phone. “The building has a historic feel like your main store, and if one person moves in, maybe others will give it a try.”

  “Have you seen the downtown? I’ll go broke.”

  “Not if you start small. It might be good to initially expand in small ways. You don’t want to try too much at once and overextend.”

  Tammie looked toward the town and chewed her bottom lip.

  “Listen, you don’t have to decide today. It’ll be a while before the building is ready for occupants anyway.”

  “It’s so far away from the other store.”

  “But your mom would probably get a kick out of running things. After all, she’s an awesome cook. And I bet she knows lots of women who are excellent bakers as well.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, like I said, just think about it. Doesn’t cost a penny to mull something over.”

  Tammie nodded.

  After eating their sandwiches, raw veggies and chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, Farrin looked over at Tammie. “I had a good time today.”

  “I’m glad. I miss this.”

  Farrin hadn’t realized how much she had, too.

  They pulled their small packs on and took one last look across the valley.

  “I wish I’d brought a camera,” Farrin said. “At least my phone. I’d like a picture of this in my office.”

  “We’ll come back. I’m not letting you become a stranger again if I have to come to New York and hit you over the head with one of your sketchpads.”

  Farrin laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  After sitting for so long, Farrin’s legs shook as she descended the trail. A few times she thought her knees might buckle, sending her careening down the trail like a boulder. The boots she’d borrowed from Tammie rubbed against her heels, threatening to create blisters. If it wasn’t October, she’d be tempted to remove them and finish the trek in her socks.

  When they reached the trailhead, Farrin stopped and massaged her thighs. “It’s official. I have become a citified wuss.”

  Tammie laughed. “That’ll teach you to run off and leave me.”

  Tammie headed for her minivan, but Farrin spotted several wildflowers growing along the edge of the rustic parking area. She forced her legs to move in that direction then winced as she bent to pick some of the yellow coneflowers and heart-leaved asters, enough for a bouquet at the inn and another for Dara. On the way back to the van, she also lifted a map of the Cane Ridge Trail and the entire Pisgah National Forest from the rack at the entrance to the trail. The thought of Dara’s eyes brightening at the simple gifts made her smile.

  “What?” Tammie asked as Farrin slid into the passenger seat.

  Farrin shrugged. “Nothing, just happy. Thanks for dragging me away from work.”

  “That’s what friends are for, to tempt you into delinquency.”

  The two of them laughed as Tammie drove from the parking area. It was one of those days when it simply felt good to be alive.

  ****

  Farrin arrived at the inn early the next morning, thinking she’d do some sketching of ideas for the various rooms before anyone else arrived. But when she stepped inside, she found Janie on her hands and knees painting baseboards. It was like Cinderella living her life in reverse, from princess to servant girl.

  “You’re here early.”

  Janie sat back on her heels, and Farrin saw a spot of paint on her nose. “I wanted to get an early start.” She rose and placed the paintbrush back in the pan. “I need to ask you something.”

  Farrin noted the nervousness and Janie’s inability to make eye contact. Red flags went up. “Okay.”

  “I’d like to work longer hours on Monday through Thursday so I can have Fridays off.”

  Janie hadn’t worked for her a week and already she wanted Fridays off.

  “I wouldn’t ask but I have a standing appointment out of town on Friday mornings.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  Janie lowered her eyes. “I wanted to show you I’m a hard worker first.”

  Farrin took a deep breath. Why did it matter as long as the work got done? “Fine, as long as we don’t fall behind schedule.”

  Janie released her breath, letting Farrin know she’d been holding it. What was the big secret? Another part-time job? An affair? Farrin just hoped it wasn’t something that would make her regret hiring Janie.

  Farrin spent the rest of the day meeting with the contractors, talking with Drew about plans for the garden and making arrangements for her flight home the next morning. Much as she enjoyed the time away, she had to get back to work on the projects that paid the bills. And the inn was going to be a big investment.

  She watered the wildflowers she’d brought to the inn arranged in one of Faye’s vases and positioned them so they could get the afternoon sun.

  “Those are pretty,” Dara said from the doorway.

  “I’m glad you like them,” Farrin said as she walked to the counter where another vase filled with wildflowers sat. “Because I brought these for you.”

  Dara’s eyes widened. “For me?”

  “Yes, I saw them while hiking yesterday and thought of you. It’s nice to have a friend who likes wildflowers as much as I do.”

  Dara started forward as if she were gazing at the Hope Diamond or the inside of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

  “I thought you could put them in your room.”

  Dara ran her fingertips over the flowers’ petals. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And here, I brought you something else.” Farrin picked up the maps from the counter and held them out to Dara. “To add to your map collection.”

  Dara took them and spread them out on the table at the center of the room. Farrin pointed out Inspiration Point. “Maybe when I come to visit again, I can take you up here. The view is unbelievable.”

  Now why had she committed to that? That ivy was growing further up her legs, tying her to this community, these people, this little girl. She’d met and liked Dara’s brother Jason, but Dara tugged on her heart in inexplicable ways.

  “You’re leaving tomorrow.” Dara sounded sad.

  “Yes, but I’ll be back. I have to check on the inn.”

  She could do that from New York, but something told her she’d be coming back to evaluate the progress in person. “I’ll even bring you a map of New York City, how does that sound?”

  “Okay.”

  This sweet child couldn’t sound so sad just because she was leaving, could she? They barely knew each other.

  “Dara,” Janie called from upstairs. “Bring me that bucket in the front room.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dara straightened her shoulders and looked up at Farrin. “Thanks for the flowers and the maps. I love them.”

  “You’re welcome.” Farrin fought the urge to hug the child. Hugs spoke of close ties, and other than Faye, she didn’t want any strong ties to Oak Valley. The inn was enough of an anchor, but it was an inanimate object that would eventually be sold. And when the sad day came that Faye was no longer with them, Farrin would visit Tammie in Knoxville. But Oak Valley — she doubted she’d ever walk its sidewalks again.

  ****

  Farrin looked up at Pamela, one of the young seamstresses working on Cara Hutton’s gown, and stopped herself before she shouted. Back in New York barely twenty-four hours and already she was a ball of anxiety on the verge of bursting. She forced a smile. “It’s okay. Just back up and start that part over.”

  She’d only tweaked one aspect of the gown since returning, which was surprising enough that Justine r
emarked on it. Farrin was making every conscious effort not to snap or criticize, but as soon as she’d walked into her office, she’d felt like the walls were closing in on her, that she couldn’t get enough air.

  “Are you okay? You look pale,” Justine said as she stepped up beside her now.

  “Yeah. Tired. I’m going for a walk, get some fresh air.”

  “Fresh air?”

  “You know, the stuff that blows around outside the buildings.”

  “Good luck finding it.”

  She found it on the ferry to Ellis Island. In the years she’d been living and working in Manhattan, she’d only been out to the island once. As the ferry churned through the water, she watched the Statue of Liberty glide by.

  Farrin sank back against the bench and closed her eyes, listened to the hum of the tourists’ voices around her. She picked out some southern accents talking about how cold the wind was. She remembered her first winter in New York, how she’d sworn she would die of the cold. But like poverty, cruel words and the loss of every family member, she’d survived it and learned to thrive.

  She really did like New York, so why had she felt confined by it lately? Why had the trip to Oak Valley been freeing instead of the horrible experience she’d expected? Maybe Mark had been right about her needing a vacation, some time away from the frantic schedule. Balance, that’s what she needed.

  She thought of her schedule for the coming days and sighed. She’d look for that balance as soon as she got a few things marked off the to-do list.

  ****

  CHAPTER TEN

  Once she’d made the decision to try to put some balance in her life, Farrin refused to work seven days a week. No matter how much she was tempted to pull out sketchpads and keep her ear to the phone conducting business, she took one weekend day off to enjoy other things. At first, trips to the Met or walks in Central Park weren’t enjoyable because she couldn’t turn off her need to be working, ensuring that her business stayed successful. Vigilance was as much a part of her makeup as bone or muscle.

  Eventually, though, it got easier. She used those free times to call Janie and check on the progress of the inn. With each call, her need to see the transformation for herself increased.

 

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