Hope's Garden

by Lyn Cote

  “I know,” Gage said as he continued concentrating on his task. “And I want our nursery to be cited as the designer and supplier of the Victorian garden.”

  Cat gave him a provocative grin. “I keep thinking that great-grandmother Catherine would have a good laugh over this.”

  “Why?” Gage asked.

  A teasing glint danced in her dark toffee eyes. Cat wrinkled her nose. “Because the Hadleys have died out and the Simmons have flourished.”

  “What? I don’t get it.” Harry looked up.

  Gage stretched, his neck and shoulders had tightened. He stood to put some distance between himself and his attractive partner. “Cat is a descendant of the Hadleys—”

  “Yes, the one and only renegade Hadley,” Cat interjected.

  “Catherine Hadley?” Harry asked. “You’re her namesake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do you go by Cat?” His hand on the mouse stilled.

  She looked surprised. “My dad called me that when I was a little girl—”

  “You’re not a little girl anymore. I will henceforth call you Catherine.” Harry made a motion as though knighting her.

  “But I’ve always been Cat.”

  “Maybe you need to change along with Eden.”

  Gage studied her. Harry had put his finger on something. “Cat” didn’t suit his partner anymore.

  Halting this line of thought, he shifted gears mentally once more. Back to business. Now was the time to try to persuade her. He hoped he wouldn’t wound her pride. “Cat…” He couldn’t bring himself to say her full name though the idea attracted him. It would sound…

  Back to business—now! Make the suggestion! “I know this project is really going to cut into our nursery stock budget, so I want you to delay the next partnership payment to me, maybe even the next two—”

  “No!” Cat put her hands on her hips. “I, we won’t need to do that.”

  “But—”

  She hopped up, her eyes flashing. “No, you’ll need that money to get your golf course started.”

  He hadn’t even suspected she’d taken his golf course plan seriously. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” Gage’s voice came out funny, reminding him of Phil’s changing voice. He held his breath waiting for her judgment. If Cat didn’t think it was a good idea, he’d have to reconsider.

  “I do.” She nodded her head once as though deciding the matter. “Have you done anything beyond talking to people?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve started driving around looking at large parcels of land.”

  “So, big brother, you plan to settle down in Eden?” Scraping his chair back, Harry stood up, stretching toward the ceiling, then touched his toes.

  “Yes, what do you think?”

  “I think it was good that you broke up with Daria when you did.” Harry smirked. “I have a hard time picturing her here. Anyway, I might hang around for a while myself. Maybe there is room for a new fourth group—out-of-work artists who want to drive their mothers crazy.”

  Cat paid no attention to the two brothers as they bantered about Harry’s bad joke. Had Gage been thinking about those moments of closeness they shared two nights ago in this very kitchen? I hope not. Thinking of them warmed her, but it had been just one of those crazy moments in life.

  Meeting Gage’s parents had been an eye-opener for her. Trying to imagine her father and Gage’s parents in the same room was mind-bending. Of course, that could never happen, but it demonstrated the gulf between Gage and herself. They were from two totally different worlds.

  Three weeks later, Cat parked in the drive of the future group home, a modest raised ranch. She opened her cell phone and speed-dialed Hope’s Garden.

  Harry picked up.

  “Did they call yet?” Cat couldn’t keep the urgency out of her voice.

  “No, are you at the group home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. We’ll call as soon as we hear anything. Why are you worrying? It’s in the bag. Our design will blow the bloomers off any other bid.”

  Cat grinned at Harry’s colorful language. “All right. I just didn’t expect nurseries from as far away as Des Moines to put bids in, too.”

  “Don’t worry. Be happy,” Harry teased in a singsong voice.

  Cat wished she’d gotten Gage. Cat had more confidence in Gage’s opinions. But, of course, she couldn’t say that to Harry.

  “I know you would rather hear it from my brother—”

  “Stop.” Cat laughed. “Call me—whenever.” And she snapped the phone shut.

  Lord, I really want this job. Help me take the commission’s decision calmly if we don’t get it. But I really want it!

  Cat got out of her truck and joined Aunt Bet with the four teens as they stood in front of the house. Someone had started to paint the window frames white, but must have been called away. Cat made a mental note to bring flowers over for a small bed beside the door; or maybe a planter would be easier for the new residents to take care of. And the lawn needed cutting and fertilizing.

  She turned her attention to the group. Everyone had worn grubs to paint in. She asked, “How many of you have painted before?”

  Phil raised his hand.

  Cat had expected inexperience. “Okay. Then I’ll have to show each of you how to do the necessary jobs.”

  “What’s the big deal about painting?” Ginny gave Cat a sullen look. “You put the brush in the paint and then slap it on the wall.”

  “Wrong. We won’t be using brushes. We’ll be using foam painters and rollers. Only really skilled house painters use brushes.” Cat returned a bright smile for Ginny’s glare. “Anyway, first the interior baseboard and trim have to be scrubbed so the masking tape will stick. Next comes masking the trim with tape to keep paint off it. Then the walls must be edged and finally we paint.”

  “How long are we going to be here?” Morgan looked worried. “I have to baby-sit tonight.”

  Aunt Bet looked at a clipboard she held. “Today, we’ve been given the dining room to paint, and we’re supposed to prepare the downstairs bedroom for painting.”

  “I don’t want to do any of that scrubbing,” Ryan complained.

  “Me, neither,” Ginny agreed.

  “Everyone is going to do every job.” Aunt Bet looked at them over half glasses.

  “Right,” Cat seconded. “That way no one can complain.”

  “Or, at least—” Bet grinned “—everyone will have equal complaining rights.”

  Cat chuckled. The four teens displayed a variety of unhappy faces—Phil, resigned; Ryan, disgruntled; Morgan, philosophical; and Ginny, rebellious.

  “Why aren’t Chuck, Laurette and Gage here to help?” Ginny demanded.

  This made Cat think of calling Hope’s Garden again. She pushed this thought aside. A watched pot never boils.

  “Cat and I are perfectly capable of showing you what to do.” Bet looked at Cat, her expression brimming with amusement. “How about I take Ryan and Ginny to prepare the dining room since they can’t wait to start scrubbing. You help Phil and Morgan start painting. We’ll work a half hour and switch.”

  Cat agreed, and they all trooped into the two-story house undergoing renovation. Tarps on the carpeting, ladders, sawhorses and a row of gallon paint cans testified to ongoing work.

  In the dining room, Cat demonstrated how to use an edging tool and how to paint a wall with a roller. Phil took the long-handled edger and began carefully running the pale-yellow paint along the premasked trim. Cat helped Morgan learn how much paint to keep on her roller, then showed her the way to roll the paint on smoothly. As soon as Phil had edged one wall, Cat and Morgan began at opposite ends of it intending to meet in the middle. Soon, the sound of the rollers in motion, that rhythmic pulling-tape hiss, was heard.

  In the other room, Bet turned the radio to an oldies station and soon a song about a girl falling in love filled the house. Smells of pine cleaner and latex paint mingled and floated around th
em.

  Morgan glanced shyly at Cat. “Are you and Gage dating?”

  Cat pushed too hard on the roller. Paint streaked down the wall. With her roller, she caught it and smoothed it out. “We’re just business partners.” But the words of the song made her think of Gage. He was fine in so many ways. Don’t go there, Cat.

  Morgan gave her an I-know-better look. “Everybody knows his parents came to visit, and he is always with you. It would be so cool if you two fell in love.”

  Eden Gossip Central had obviously been keeping close watch over Cat. She tried not to let it get to her, but it still rankled. “His parents visited him. We work together. That’s it.”

  Suppressing a grin, Morgan looked unconvinced.

  The half-hour mark came, and the groups switched. After a brief demonstration, Ryan took over edging from Phil and Ginny took Morgan’s roller.

  The front door opened. Footsteps and voices sounded in the entry way.

  “Who’s here?” Ryan swung around unexpectedly. His long-handled edger swiped Ginny’s cheek with yellow paint.

  The girl gasped. “Dork!” She pushed her roller into Ryan’s midsection and rolled it upward.

  “Dorkette!” Ryan bellowed and brought his edger down on Ginny’s hair.

  “Stop that!” Cat swung her roller between them like a sword. “That’s enough!”

  Both teens glared at each other, but halted.

  “Good afternoon, Catherine.”

  Looking around, Cat groaned inside. The silver-haired senior pastor, Mr. Conkling, from their church looked back at her with a benign smile and an amused glint in his eye.

  Cat blushed. “Sorry, pastor, things just got a little out of hand….”

  “No need to explain. Youthful high spirits. You had them once, too. Catherine, I’d like you to meet two of the people who will be living here this fall and their parents.”

  Embarrassed, Cat would have preferred hiding in a closet. But she gave both her teens warning looks, then walked toward the strangers. “Hello, we’re so glad you will be coming to live in Eden.”

  “Hi,” one of the Down’s syndrome adults, a husky young man, responded, “I’m Kevin. Why do they have paint on them?”

  Cat nearly answered for her teens, then halted. “Ginny and Ryan, why don’t you answer Kevin?”

  Ryan wore a wide streak of yellow from his waistband to his neck. Yellow paint dripped down Ginny’s forehead and cheek. The two teens, both red-faced, looked at each other with hostility, then at Kevin. Their expressions softened. Finally, Ryan spoke up, “We were goofing off.”

  Ginny nodded in agreement.

  The other future resident, a plump young woman, asked, “Doesn’t it feel gooey?”

  Cat grinned.

  Ryan smiled reluctantly, “Yeah, we’ll have to wash it off.”

  The plump girl stared at the wall. “I like this color. It’s like sunshine.”

  “It is indeed,” Mr. Conkling agreed. “Catherine, we’ll leave you and your helpers to the painting.” He led the group away.

  Cat looked at the teens. “Ginny, go into the kitchen and wash yourself as best you can and don’t leave paint in the sink. Ryan, you go to the downstairs bathroom and do the same.”

  Ryan lay down the edger. “Aren’t you going to yell at us?”

  “No, I think you both did such a good job of embarrassing yourselves that you won’t pull something like this again. Experience is the best teacher, my dad always said. Go on. There are paper towels beside both sinks.”

  Still maintaining a wide berth between each other, the teens exited.

  Cat’s cell phone rang. She automatically reached for it, then stopped. Would this be the call about the bid?

  Chapter Eight

  Quietly elated, Gage sat back in the wicker chair in Cat’s gazebo. To celebrate the acceptance of their Hadley bid, Cat had invited Harry, Phil, Hetty and her husband and Gage to come out immediately after Hope’s Garden closed. Hetty and her husband had brought a young friend, Jo. And anytime now, Bet, Chuck and Laurette were expected. Though mostly still on bed rest, Laurette had insisted on coming.

  “It’s so exciting!” Hetty exclaimed. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime project.” Hetty’s quiet, bearded husband sat beside her looking cheerful, but content to let his wife express her exuberance.

  Cat glowed with delight. She sat in the same rocker she had on the evening Gage’s parents had visited. Cat had changed from her work clothing. She wore a pale-pink cotton dress with a high waist, but her tanned legs were bare and she had slipped off her sandals. As was her way, she had folded one leg up under her.

  Gage thought of Daria and the contrast between her and Cat. Daria had always kept herself, her impeccable chic, together. This had been one of the first things that had impressed him about her. Daria could step out of the pouring rain and look dry and together. Would Daria ever mix bare feet with a dress? No. To Daria, bare feet only went with a swimsuit.

  But why was he comparing the two women? Was it because he was on the rebound and more susceptible? Could that explain his sudden flashes of attraction to his partner?

  Three months had come and gone since April first, the day he’d begun working with Cat. Only three weeks had passed since his parents had gone and Hope’s Garden had put in the sealed bid for the Hadley restoration. A short time, but big changes. He felt like a different man.

  “Most of the credit goes to Harry.” Cat lifted her tumbler of iced tea to him. Gage focused on her dainty wrists and slender arms, so deceptively soft and feminine, but they could lift hefty bags and garden for hours without stopping.

  “Not so!” Wearing tattered jeans, T-shirt and sandals, Harry sat sprawled on the dark-green painted wood floor of the gazebo, his back against one of the posts. Beside him, Hetty’s friend, Jo, also in tattered jeans sat Indian style. “I just did the research and assisted Cat. She did the design!”

  “But I could never have done the research as efficiently or the designing if Gage hadn’t insisted that I learn to use the computer,” Cat countered.

  “Let’s face it!” Harry grinned. “All of us are brilliant, talented and highly efficient.”

  Along with everyone else, Gage laughed. Cat’s delight lifted her face, gave it special attraction.

  “When do we start working?” Phil asked, then reddened. Gage understood the boy’s bashfulness.

  Harry looked to Cat, “Catherine, I plan to start tomorrow after breakfast.”

  Gage had come to envy his brother’s easy use of Cat’s real name. If Gage tried to use it, would it give the wrong impression?

  She nodded. “We’ll need to meet with the tree-removal company first.”

  Gage watched Cat as she easily discussed removal of dead trees and shrubs with Harry. He couldn’t remember seeing his brother this happy in a long time.

  “Food delivery!” Bet shouted coming around the corner of the house.

  Gage stood up and opened the door of the gazebo.

  “Did you get the steaks?” Cat came to stand beside Gage. He breathed in her distinctive fragrance of herbs and blossoms.

  Chuck carried Laurette into the gazebo while Bet followed with a large brown shopping bag in her arms. Chuck settled Laurette on a wicker chaise longue, and Gage lifted the heavy bag out of Bet’s arms.

  “That’s my contribution. I bought four huge sirloins and had them cut into steaks.” Bet went to the side table where she poured three glasses of iced tea. She kept one and handed the other two to Chuck and Laurette.

  “Laurette, are you sure you were up to coming out here?” Cat asked, deep concern in his voice.

  “I’m feeling great. I even walked out and sat on the front porch today. I just can’t stand lying around anymore! My baby quilt is almost done, and I want to get out and weed my flower garden.”

  “Morgan’s doing that for you,” Cat said.

  “I know, but I’m tired of being useless!”

  “You’re not useless, sweetheart!” Chuck kisse
d her.

  Gage had watched Laurette’s restlessness rise over the past two weeks. Chuck worried that she got up when no one was around. After Aunt Bet introduced Hetty to Laurette, the two pregnant women began a conversation about breast-feeding.

  Not a topic Gage had much interest in. “Let’s take the meat into the kitchen,” he said close to Cat’s ear.

  She nodded and brushed past him. Inside the neat kitchen, she brought out a large china platter. Keeping his mind on the task at hand, Gage unwrapped the meat and put the steaks on it while she got out long-handled cooking utensils. Then she led him to the brick grill at the rear of the garden.

  The coals gleamed red-hot under the metal rack. Heat rose in transparent waves about it. Baking potatoes wrapped in foil nestled in the bed of the fire. While Cat turned the potatoes with tongs, Gage carefully arranged each steak onto the grill.

  “I’m so hungry,” Cat confided. “I couldn’t eat today. Too nervous.”

  “I am proud of you.” He almost added, “Catherine.”

  “For going hungry?” She slanted a smile up at him.

  Her joy overflowed his cup. He wished he could open his mouth wide, laugh out loud, then dance Cat around the yard. With restraint, he allowed himself a huge smile. “No, for meeting the challenge of learning how to use the design software and for taking a chance on my brother.”

  “Not a chance—a step of faith. Remember? We still have a ways to go, but I think your brother will do a great job.” She paused and looked shyly down at her bare feet. “Maybe you would like to call your parents and tell them the good news?”

  Leave it to Cat to have such a kind thought. “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think my parents would grasp the importance of this.”

  She kept her golden-streaked head bent, so he couldn’t read her expression. He glanced downward, too, and glimpsed Cat’s tiny feet in the green grass.

  “Maybe,” she began haltingly, “you should keep giving your parents chances to understand you and your brother. I know I always felt I couldn’t measure up to my dad’s standards. Now I understand a little more of his struggle to raise a daughter alone. I wish we had been given more time together.”