Return to Paradise

by Laina Villeneuve

  “I’ve got a pen. Shoot.”

  She read it back to me and asked if she should stop by after she closed up her shop at five.

  “That sounds great,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” she said, an undercurrent of mischief in her voice.

  I held the phone to my chest, knowing she had already done so much.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lacey

  The one upside of Shawneen’s Nova taking up space in my shop was that it forced me to get the rebuilt engine back into my now-perfect baby blue Bug, so I could move it outside when I needed the shop. I still had some interior work to do, but it felt great to be rattling down the road in it.

  She was standing in the drive waiting and waved as I slowed and turned. I pulled to the side to avoid blocking the driveway and held up a thumb. Madison mirrored the gesture, so I cut the rattling engine. It felt a little strange to be with her again. It wasn’t like we’d had a date, but sitting parked in her mom’s car had changed things for me. When I’d given Della her number, I’d had no interest in Madison. Or had I? Now I found myself very much interested and in the awkward place of wondering whether Della felt the same way.

  “I figured I’d catch you at the road since the field’s right here,” she said in greeting.

  Grateful she directed us right to business, I surveyed Madison’s property, trying to recall how she’d described her place at the Chinese restaurant. “You said you would maybe have a few horses, not a full-on dude ranch, right?” I asked. With frost still on the ground and the sun an hour away from setting, the chill sent a shiver through me. It had nothing to do with the woman who stood next to me.

  Her feet wide-set, she placed one hand on her hip and the other behind her head, her elbows pointing out like sails on a ship, one up high and one down low. I would’ve liked to peek inside her head to see what she was envisaging. Whatever it was, she wasn’t ready to put it into words. She answered simply, “No, not a full-on ranch.”

  “Because you could put a few nice-looking horses down here in the pasture. They’d keep the grass down and would catch your attention on the approach.”

  “You don’t think I could put a crop in here?”

  “Oh, you could, but what does that have to do with your angle? Unless you’re using the rows as some sort of meditation walk or offering to let them to pitch in and live the life of a farmer for a few days, I don’t see how it would add to the appeal. Mind if I look at the rest of the place?”

  “Not at all.”

  I followed her over a short bridge, our boots loud on the gravel. Her arms crossed high on her chest across a bright yellow plaid flannel made her look as nervous as I felt. The pasture in question lay on the left and the driveway to the right disappeared into the pines that also ran the western length of the field. She’d called me. Did that mean that she had been thinking about me?

  “You seen Della?” I asked. It didn’t hurt to see if they’d hit it off.

  “Your coach friend? No. Why? Was there another home game?”

  “Oh, no. I was just wondering.”

  “But you didn’t ask her?”

  We walked side by side our eyes studiously focused up ahead. “I see her at games, and sometimes we do lunch, but since…we’re not dating anymore…I tend to not just call her.” My stomach tense, I waited for her to say something.

  We stopped at the top of the drive to catch our breath. “It was nice of her to invite me to the game, and she did ask if I wanted to hang out afterward.” She glanced at me, and my heart raced as I waited for what she had to say. “I told her that I’m pushing like crazy to get my place open by spring and that I don’t really have time for anything else.”

  Was she telling me the same thing, or was she telling me she’d brushed Della off? “Does she know about Shawneen?”

  “No.” Her answer came fast. “We barely talked. I was just grateful for her giving me a reason to stop working. Sometimes I forget to.” She turned to look at the house that was taking up so much of her time.

  It sat facing east, and it was easy to imagine guests enjoying a sunrise from the front porch of the large rustic home. “How many guests can you accommodate?”

  “Once I finish remodeling, I’ll have four rooms. Plus I have space behind the main house to put in some cabins eventually.”

  “Tucked in between the trees to make them more private.”

  She tapped her temple and smiled impishly. I could see how that smile would distract people from realizing how much their vacation was costing. A weathered barn sat across a small yard. “Is Houdini put up for the night?”

  “I tried to keep him in the barn, but I never found him there in the morning, so I gave up on that. He visits when he wants to.”

  “But isn’t around today?”

  “Nope. I thought he might be hanging out with you.”

  That teasing smile again. I couldn’t help but mirror it as we walked over to the barn. She pulled open the doors, and in the fading light, I saw neat stalls, an empty hayloft and plenty of room for a small tractor. Later, I’d think about how the moment had been ripe for a first kiss. But right then, I was still unsure about where we stood, knowing only how appealing it was to be watching someone realizing a vision. I liked to think I could help her with that, which tipped us back to the business of why she’d called me. We walked back out into the last of the evening sun, shadows stretching long in the small corral adjacent to the barn.

  “You’ve got plenty of room for horses up here next to the barn, so I get why you wouldn’t pasture them below. I really think you should consider a garden down there instead of a crop. My gran grows a lot of the vegetables Hope uses at Cup of Joy, and I could see you doing the same thing here, pulling people in with the draw of eating what grows right on the property. Customers get really excited about it at Hope’s restaurant. Think of how psyched people would be to eat what they had harvested themselves.”

  “You think people would be happy to work on their vacation?”

  “I’m certainly not an expert on vacations. I don’t take them because I get bored not doing anything, and I feel guilty for not working. But, say I found a place that had old engines to tinker with during the day. I’d be happy because I’d feel productive, and as a bonus, I might even learn something I could bring home. Think of the stuff you could teach people about crops, how to rotate them, what foods are compatible.”

  “You sure know a lot about gardening for a mechanic.”

  I tried unsuccessfully to bite back the annoyance I felt at her choice of words.

  “What?” Madison asked.

  “I’m an auto technician.”

  Madison crossed her hands over her chest. “I’ve always said mechanic.”

  “Well,” I hedged, remembering how speaking my mind about rekindling old loves had pushed Madison away. Though I’d be disappointed to shut down the budding camaraderie, I decided I didn’t have the energy to not be myself. “You’ve always been wrong.”

  “Really?” Madison sounded curious instead of offended.

  “Really. It’s like calling a massage therapist a masseuse.”

  Madison looked away.

  “You say masseuse?”

  “I have on occasion. What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s like calling a flight attendant a stewardess. We have professional titles.”

  “I never knew.”

  “Now you do,” I said lightly. I liked that she didn’t trip over herself with apologies like Della would have. Instead, she accepted my point. I put my hands in my pockets. Spring evenings still cooled quickly which reminded me of the hour and how I’d been derailed from our discussion about the field. I gestured to the open space. “And here you have the perfect opportunity to teach people how roses love garlic.”

  “Roses love garlic?”

  “It’s called companion planting, and my gran is the local expert. She’s expecting me for dinner, and I know
she’d be happy to put another plate on the table if you’d care to ask her about your plot.”

  Madison put her hands on her boyish hips and tilted her chin. “You’re inviting me to dinner?”

  “Sure.” Would she see that as an invitation for a date? She didn’t say yes right away, and I wanted to ask if my thoughts on fate continued to tip the scale out of my favor. Worried that she’d taken it the wrong way, I added, “Wouldn’t you like to talk gardening with my gran?”

  “It’s only an introduction, then.”

  I puzzled at her challenge. Did she want it to be more? “And an effort to make up for horning in on your dinner at the Chinese place.”

  “I am interested in talking to your grandmother about what I could do with that field. Is she on my side of the valley or yours?”

  “Mine,” I said, wounded that her tone remained formal after I’d extended an olive branch. I wished I’d asked her to clarify whether she didn’t have time for just Della, or for anyone at all. I wanted her to want to spend more time with me.

  “I’ll grab my coat and keys and follow you.”

  The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding slipped out. “So you accept my apology?”

  “No,” she said, walking back toward her place.

  I jogged to catch up to her, surprised by her answer. “No?”

  “You didn’t say you were sorry, and saying your gran would be happy to put another plate on the table doesn’t sound like an apology to me.”

  Her good points gave me pause. I realized I hadn’t, in fact, apologized. “I feel bad about the way that dinner ended.”

  “That’s a start,” she said. “Still not an apology, but I don’t want your grandmother’s hard work to go to waste, so we can get back to that if you ask me out on a date.”

  Her words zinged right through me. So she wasn’t so busy she wasn’t considering dating at all. “Why aren’t you asking me?”

  “I wouldn’t want to spoil your surprise.”

  She left me by her truck with the rainbow sticker while she grabbed her coat and keys, and I spent those few minutes considering how I was supposed to surprise her when she already knew I’d be asking her on a date. I kicked the tire that had prompted her to stop at my shop back in January. My shop which had been her home. My garage that had been her childhood bedroom as well as mine. Was that Fate?

  I thought back to our exchange. I wasn’t sorry for voicing my opinion on stories that reinforce the idea of returning to long-lost loves. I was sorry that my ideas and assumptions about why she was in Quincy had pushed her away. I felt guilty for how I’d misread her attention on Shawneen. When she emerged from the house I couldn’t meet her eyes.

  She gave me a lift back to my Bug in her truck. The short distance down the drive didn’t give me much time to shape the apology, but I had to say something before I got out. “I’m sorry that I laughed at you when you asked if I believed in Fate.”

  “I’m sorry I took it so personally. Ruth always says that it’s as harmful to take offense as it is to give it.”

  “Ruth?” I asked. She’d said the name like I should be able to place it.

  “The woman who raised me.”

  “I’d like to hear more about her.”

  “I’ll tell you sometime, but you said dinner was waiting.”

  She had me there. The questions that flooded my mind would have to wait. I tucked them away, looking forward to the time I could ask Madison on a real date where we could talk in private, but equally excited to be introducing her to my gran.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lacey

  The silver Subaru in my gran’s drive startled me. Six months ago, I would have expected it, but my little brother had recently moved to Reno. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing back and swore under my breath that he’d better behave with my unexpected guest.

  “Cal!” I hollered, poking my head inside the door. I hadn’t seen that my gran was standing right inside the kitchen.

  “Good lord, girl.” My gran stepped back, her hand over her heart.

  “Sorry Gran. Where’s Cal?” He was one to ambush, and I didn’t want to risk him pouncing on Madison.

  Cal answered as he exited the bathroom down the hall. “Cleaning up.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “An old client of mine in Portola guilted me into coming over. I called Gran and said if she’d make her honey-ham, I’d drive down here after.”

  “You never said!” I admonished my gran. If I’d known he’d be in town, I wouldn’t have suggested bringing Madison over.

  “Don’t yell at an old lady’s forgetfulness, especially when you’re just as much to blame.” Her gaze shifted behind me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Madison. This is my grandma, Karen Wheeler, and my brother, Cal. Gran, I hope it’s okay I invited Madison to talk gardening.”

  “One of my favorite topics. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madison. Come in. Come in. Lacey, honey, take her coat. I’ve about got dinner on the table. Your friend here can help me with that and Cal, let’s use the good china, shall we?” she said, setting us all into motion.

  After depositing Madison’s coat, I returned to the kitchen where Gran was already getting the dimensions of Madison’s field. I grabbed a pitcher of tea from the fridge to take to the kitchen table on the other side of Grandma’s stove and met Cal carrying the nice dishes from the dining room which currently held hundreds of starts for the garden. “Want to trade an oil change for a massage? I’m not driving home until tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need a massage.”

  “Is someone helping you out for free?” he whispered, looking over at Madison who was headed our way with a bowl of peas.

  “No,” I smacked him soundly to shut him up and then turned to accept the bowl from Madison. “I forgot to mention that Gran would probably set you to work.”

  “It’s fine.” Instead of returning to the kitchen, she stood watching us. Cal had reached to rub the sting of the first hit which would have earned him another if we hadn’t been under Madison’s scrutiny.

  He smiled brightly at her, his close-cropped beard framing his braces-perfect teeth. Cal’s a good-looking guy. He went to college on a football scholarship and had a lot of attention from the ladies. Recovering from a career-ending knee injury, he’d developed an interest for sports medicine that led to him learning massage therapy. The youngest of my four siblings, he’s the tallest as well as the biggest shit-disturber. He always felt the need to catch up for the pranks my two oldest brothers pulled before he was born. “So are you two…”

  Not liking the gleam in his eye, I interrupted him before he could cause any mischief. “We’re going to talk to Gran about her tractor. Madison’s got a plot of land on her place out at Spanish Creek Road that I am trying to convince her to farm on a small scale. She called me about buying a tractor, but for the size of the place, we could truck Gran’s tractor over.”

  “What’s this about my tractor?”

  “The piece of land Madison has is about the same as what you garden here with Hope. I was going to ask to borrow it.”

  Madison interrupted, “I was asking for help finding a tractor to buy.”

  “Well that’s silly.” Gran set a basket of sliced bread on the table. “Cal, fetch the ham. The work you’ve put into that old thing Lacey, I’d say it’s yours anyway. If you can find a way to get it to Madison’s place, there’s no reason to spend good money on another. Are we ready to eat?”

  I pointed Madison to the seat between Gran and me at the round table, so that I could keep my eye on Cal. He let me know he knew my intent by squeezing the hell out of my hand during grace.

  “It’s very kind of you to offer the tractor.” Madison picked up the conversation again once everyone was served. “But with all the finishing touches I have to do with the house, I probably won’t get to a garden this year. When I called Lacey today, I was sure that finding something in my budget was going to take much longer.
”

  “Planting season’s just begun, and my Scout helpers are always asking for more community assistance hours. I’m sure they would be happy to help at your place.”

  Madison was uncomfortable with the offer. I could tell by her rigid posture, but I couldn’t figure out why she’d shy from it. “What do you grow?” Her question soundly redirected the conversation away from her as Gran discussed her vegetables.

  “You’re a rancher?” Cal inserted, bringing attention back to her.

  “I’m opening a small resort this summer,” she answered.

  “You’ve worked a resort before?” He sounded doubtful.

  I nudged Cal under the table in warning. “The gardening was my idea. I tossed it out as an angle she might be able to exploit. A way to stand out from the competition.”

  “Gardening makes way more sense than putting rainbow in your business name.”

  He smirked at me, so I did more than nudge him that time.

  “Calvin.” Gran said, snapping his attention away from me. Madison eyed the two of us again as he not so subtly rubbed his shin.

  “I was only noting that gardening seems to cast a wider net. But it also takes a lot of hours. There are other angles, like making a wellness retreat. Hire a massage therapist…” he said leadingly.

  Madison and I shared a smile when she figured out why the word masseuse irked me.

  “What?” Cal grumped. “I think that’s a better idea. Gran, what would you rather do on vacation, get a massage or garden.” Before she could respond, he held up his hand to stop her. “You’re the wrong person to ask. I’ll ask Trevor.”

  “Cal, we’re eating,” Gran warned.

  “You’re right. I’ll shoot him a text.” Since his eyes were already on his phone, he didn’t see Gran’s disappointment. “There. I went ahead and sent it to everyone.” He looked pleased with himself. “So are you starting this resort on your own? Or do you have a partner?”

  “I’m on my own,” Madison answered.

  “Yeah, that’s good. Be your own boss.”

  I laughed. “All this advice from the guy who closed his own wellness shop and went to work for someone in Reno.”