Jennifer's Garden

by Dianne Venetta

“Give it some consideration, Jen.” Sam’s eyes deepened, steeped in concern. “It’s the least you can do.”

  “I’ll catch up with you in a little while.” Without waiting for a response, she left Sam to fend for herself. She would be fine. She always was and tonight would bear no different. Most likely she’d end up with a phone number and a promise and for Sam, it was enough.

  But it wasn’t enough for her. She needed more than a good time and she didn’t need to consider anything. Hadn’t she learned enough about need?

  If the experience with Tony taught her anything, it was that need disappointed. It worked you up like an addiction then dropped you like a withdrawal. Worse than a patient trying to kick the habit of smoking, need for another human being acted like heroine. When you had it, life was great. When you didn’t...

  You wished you were dead.

  Winding her way through guests, she continued to stew over the exchange. There’s nothing wrong with Aurelio. A decent, hardworking man, intelligent and sophisticated, loving and kind... He was perfectly suited for her, and she him. Unlike Sam, freewheeling love had never been her style. Except that once. But she had learned her lesson. Whether shame had been her teacher or plain good sense, was immaterial. She had moved on. She and Aurelio wanted the same things from life, shared the same outlook and now it was time for marriage.

  The marriage her mother wanted to witness.

  The stab to her heart was quick and severe. How could Sam ask her to walk away? How could she be so insensitive?

  At a sudden loss of direction, Jennifer stopped. She looked around, gained her bearing, and searched for any sight of Michael. Laurencia. Anyone related to the family.

  But she saw no one. Met by a sea of faces, a blur of happy and content, Jennifer hurried into the house.

  Where misery followed. Beatrice Hamilton wanted her daughter married and in a lovely garden surrounded by family and friends, much like she and Jennifer’s father had done. It was the one thought that gave her mother peace. The one thing she could look forward to other than pain and nausea.

  Surely she could give her that much?

  “Jennifer.”

  “What—" She whirled around. “Michael,” she responded in a rush of breath. The man of the hour.

  Dressed more casually than she expected in a floral button-down and dark slacks, inky brown hair curling at his collar, his temples touched by gray, Michael Kingsley’s gaze was charged with concern. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” She worked to calm the thud in her chest. “Fine.” It would not do to have him sense her distress. She was his guest, not some spectacle of emotional unraveling. Struggling to even her voice she said, “You startled me is all.”

  His smile was instantaneous. “I apologize. Hey, thanks for coming. Laurencia’s been asking about you all evening.”

  “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “No, no, you’re fine. She just wanted to ask about your mother.” His change in tone was swift. “How is she?”

  “Fine. No change.”

  As a physician, Michael understood the deeper significance. “Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

  I need my mother back to full health she thought grimly, but knowing that was a dream, she shook her head. “No, but thank you. You and Laurencia have been wonderful.”

  “We love you like a sister, Jennifer. You know that.”

  She nodded. Before she had moved on to her fellowship in cardiology, Michael had been instrumental in her internal medicine training. As a resident under his tutelage, the two discovered they shared a soft spot for children. It’s all it took. They’d been friends ever since. “You’ve done more than enough already.”

  “Dr. Roberts towing the line?”

  She poked the lime in her drink with the tiny red straw. “He’s doing what he feels is best.”

  “He’s old school, Jennifer. You have pain, you treat it.”

  Unless the patient refuses. She faced him head on. “Yes, well, at least he listens to my mother.”

  “Anyone with any sense listens to your mother.”

  She laughed softly. “True.”

  “She’s in good hands. If she needs something, she’ll get it.”

  “I know.” In no small part, because of this man. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, I’m just the messenger!”

  Manager more like it, but he wouldn’t accept any more. He was too humble.

  “Jennifer!”

  Both turned toward the direction of the woman’s voice.

  Laurencia Kingsley waved. Encircled by several elegantly dressed women in a kitchen large enough to service a restaurant, she shone in her pantsuit of lustrous gold hues and beaded trim, which set off her brown skin beautifully.

  Mother-of-the-bride was radiant. From joy, Jennifer mused.

  A conspiratorial gleam lit up Michael’s eyes. “You obviously haven’t made the rounds, yet.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well then, you’d better get to it.” Michael laughed. “She’s invited two hundred of our closest friends tonight, and this is only the first engagement party. She has three more scheduled later this month!”

  Jennifer held her best smile in place while the energy drained from her limbs. “Does she now...”

  “Trust me. You’d be wise to move along. I learned early on, you don’t want to keep the mother-of-the-bride waiting for anything.”

  “No,” she cast a reluctant glance toward Laurencia. “I most certainly don’t.”

  Nearly three hours later, Jennifer returned to the area where she left Sam only to find no sign of her. She groaned inwardly. She was ready to leave and leave now. Turning about, she searched the crowd. We should have set a meeting place and time for departure.

  At this point, there’s no telling where she might be.

  Jennifer continued to scan faces, and felt more conspicuous with each second that passed. She wanted to go home. She was tired. Drained. And thirsty.

  Water. She needed water. Turning, she headed for the nearest bar but suddenly remembered the focal point of Sam’s lecture; the bartender extraordinaire. Before she could switch course, the man had secured her in his sights.

  And smiled.

  Her pulse skipped. All-American juicy hamburger.

  I’d take him solely for his looks.

  Well not me, her thoughts hammered in revolt. I have everything I want in Aurelio, despite what Sam thinks. Anxious to avoid reminder of her friend’s inflammatory commentary, she considered her options. She could fake a wave and head in the opposite direction. She skimmed her gaze past him and he waved.

  And stared. Thoughts of escape evaporated. To walk away now would only pique his curiosity. She exhaled a heavy sigh. Whatever. The man was oblivious to their callous use of his person in their discussion. It had no bearing on the moment, so long as she permitted none.

  Calming the momentary skitter in her chest with a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders with an indiscernible shake and walked over to his bar.

  “What can I do you for?”

  Jennifer stiffened.

  “Another white wine spritzer?”

  “No, thank you. I’d like a glass of water, please.”

  “With bubbles or without?”

  “Without.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Jennifer noted that he smiled the entire time it took him to grasp a tumbler, fill it with ice, twist open a bottle of spring water and dump its entire contents into the awaiting glass. Pulling a white napkin from the top of the pile, he slid it under the glass and handed the ensemble over the bar counter.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, your friend told me you’re an associate of Michael’s.”

  “Yes.” Uninterested in idle conversation, she glanced around.

  He waited. With a smile.

  The darned thing never seemed to leave him! And with no excuse for a hasty departure, she was unable to i
gnore him. “We’re not exactly associates. We do work together, but he’s one of my referring physicians.”

  “So you’re not an internist?” he asked, wiping down the counter in front of him.

  “No. I’m a cardiologist.”

  His eyes came alive with interest as though it was a significant fact, but he let the subject of specialties drop. “Mike’s a great guy.”

  Jennifer thought it a bit presumptive of him to speak of his employer in such familiar terms. “Yes. Dr. Kingsley is a wonderful person and one of the most respected in his field.”

  He chuckled. “That he is.”

  Ready to move on from the conversation, she scanned the area, surprised the party remained in full swing. She checked the slim gold watch on her wrist. Wasn’t it time to wind things down? And where was Sam?

  Edging away from the bar, she made way as another guest placed an order for a mojito. Once again, the man went to work with an ease and fluidity that amazed her. She sipped from her drink. Watching him, she imagined he could serve drinks in his sleep it came so natural.

  Working on the second cocktail, her thoughts fell back to Sam. He wasn’t bad looking really, though she couldn’t imagine what he and a date discussed over dinner. Bartending? The beach? By the looks of his tan, it was obvious he spent a lot of time outdoors. Boating? Fishing? That’s what men did in their spare time, wasn’t it? Volleyball in the sand?

  Then golden hair seemed to leap out from his chest, ensnaring her attention. Before she could help herself, her vision rolled right over his collarbone, up along his neck to his well-shaven jaw line where she found herself wondering if his brown skin would feel as soft as it appeared. Inching further up, she bumped into his gaze.

  He was staring at her expectantly. Knowingly.

  “I should have known I’d find you here...”

  Jennifer’s pulse skipped—at least three beats—and she swallowed hard. Hot with embarrassment, she sliced her gaze to the floor. What was she doing?

  Sam waltzed up, an empty martini glass in hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Yes, well,” she said, her pulse slowing to a pound. “I doubt that very much but I am ready to go.”

  Had she really been checking out the bartender? Jennifer deposited her gaze into the glass of water. It must be the wine. Talk of Tony. She had one too many and it was affecting her behavior. Had to be.

  Save for one minor detail.

  She’d only had one.

  “Oh, pooh.” Sam slapped her empty martini glass on top of the bar. “Just when things were starting to pick up for me.” She turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for the booze Jax, but it’s time for Cinderella to return to her castle.”

  “Any slippers I should be looking for?” He responded to Sam, but again his eyes hovered about Jennifer—as though she had encouraged his attention. She glanced away.

  “Not tonight. My Princess Charming here is driving me home and she’s a stickler for loose ends. Broken crystal really gets under her skin if you know what I mean,” Sam whispered loudly, followed by a wink.

  Jennifer glared.

  “Egads,” Sam pulled back in mock alarm. “It appears I might be spending some time in the dungeon this evening!”

  “Better you than me, Sam,” he replied with pronounced relief, but the merry grin on his face belied any concern.

  Refusing to play along—and wondering why her friend was on a first-name basis with the bartender—Jennifer set her water glass on the bar. “Let’s go Cinderella. Your pumpkin is about to burst.” She seized Sam by the elbow and steered her toward the door, a slew of mixed emotions colliding in her chest.

  Chapter Four

  Standing on the edge of the patio, outfitted in her standard fare of suit and heels, the sticky morning air served to thicken Jennifer’s aggravation. Some friend.

  Her mood knotted as strands of anger and exhaustion wound through her body. It was Sam’s fault the dream was back. Nearly two years without a wink from the man, but last night her tycoon and his yacht had returned. Mostly distant references, spotty images of the Greek interspersed with those of Tony, the bartender from last night and some men she had never seen before in her life! It had been enough to rattle her clear out of sleep.

  And why?

  Because Sam felt compelled to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She had no right to criticize Aurelio and no business comparing him to Tony. They had been kids, for heaven’s sake! Wild and crazy yes, but with no responsibilities and no demands, of course they could act out in the moment. It was expected of teenagers, but not of adults.

  And why her tycoon fellow entered the picture was anyone’s guess. Especially considering she had Aurelio. According to her psychologist at the time, the dream suggested her need to open up and let someone into her life; her heart. She spent too many years with her guard up and it prevented her from realizing a deep and meaningful relationship; something Jennifer wanted more than anything. Having achieved the status of "practicing physician," she wanted to develop the personal side of her life.

  Heeding the analysis, she worked to open up her heart and reach out to others, pleased to then discover Aurelio. A good friend of her senior partner, the man had been within reach all along.

  Now, engaged to be married, it made no sense the dream was back though it was ironic, she thought at once, struck by the similarities. Aurelio and her tycoon did resemble one another. Her mind narrowed in on the visions from last night. More than their light olive coloring and rich black hair, their mannerisms were quite similar, calm and sophisticated, subtle in speech. Both shared a taste for fine art and champagne. Both were affluent, amassed money well beyond their need...

  Relieved by the commonalities, her thoughts picked up steam. Perhaps it was a sign. Not one for crediting the unconscious with more power than it deserved, but Jennifer found it intriguing how dreams could parallel real life. Almost comforting, as hers seemed to validate the decision to marry Aurelio.

  Irritation flared. A decision Sam had better get used to. It simply won’t do to have her husband and best friend at odds for the rest of her life. “Beauty meets beast” should be limited to the movie screen, not the dinner table.

  She expelled a sigh. Much like her yard. Jennifer’s shoulders slumped. Alongside the meticulously restored home and the recently refurbished pool, her yard was a wasteland of dirt. Sandy gray, mounded with anthills, the grass overrun by weeds. It looked like a junkyard.

  Her stomach twisted. It was no place to host a wedding.

  From above, a rapid burst of tweets pierced the quiet, fusing into two long slow chirps, followed by another higher-pitched tempo which cut across the tree tops. Then silence. From the distance slid in a long low whistle.

  Then again, silence.

  A symphony of nature.

  The favorite expression of her mother’s dropped Jennifer into the hollows of morning. With a thud. There had been a beautiful garden, a host of roses and gardenias, hummingbirds and butterflies, all working together in complete harmony. Jennifer easily recalled the vivid fragrance of gardenia which drenched the yard in spring, followed by the heavy perfume of jasmine. Throughout summer her mother’s roses took center stage, an endless supply of fresh cut flowers for the home.

  But more than anything, Jennifer remembered the birds. From every corner they stood watch, peering out from their birdhouses, fluttering about their perches. The image of her mother fussing over them like children drew a small smile from her lips. The garden had been her personal retreat. Her little secret, as she was fond of saying, proclaiming it was the simple joys that created simple pleasures, and simple living was the key to a good life.

  Her father agreed, but from the comfort of a garden bench. Something her mother didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t need him to share her devotion. His mere company was enough.

  Jennifer inhaled, deep and full, the motion soothing as she longed for the same connection. Today, as she prepared for her new l
ife, she wanted to capture the same spirit of love in her yard and in her life. She and Aurelio would make this their home, beginning each and every day with the same devotion, in harmony with nature.

  Jennifer emptied her lungs in a ragged breath. But the yard was nowhere near ready. She swung her wrist up and checked the time. Eight thirty-nine.

  And it never would be, if she didn’t get started and soon.

  The sudden sting on her ankle bone snapped her attention in two. Ants. Stepping back, she searched for the source. Located at the base of a post she noticed a small pile of sand forming, a trail of dark brown bodies moving toward it from the patio steps in a near straight line. She groaned aloud. Enough already. Jennifer whirled around and marched into her house, slinging the French door closed behind her.

  Where was he? Didn’t he understand she had a schedule to keep? She had patients to round on, a cath scheduled for ten. If this tardiness was a sign of things to come, she may be forced to reconsider her choice of landscaper.

  A luxury she could ill afford, but may find necessary.

  She strode over to the kitchen counter, grabbed her leather bag and contemplated leaving. She’d leave a note for him to call and reschedule, perhaps come back this afternoon. She dumped her purse onto the stone counter and spewed a sigh.

  She couldn’t do it this afternoon. She had a dinner with Aurelio and tomorrow was Sunday. If she left now, she’d have to wait until Monday before even getting started.

  Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag and she pressed her lips into a firm line. Darn him. She was stuck, and she hated that she was stuck. If she didn’t need this job started yesterday, she would leave this minute. Call someone else and fire this man before he drew his first breath of protest.

  She glanced at her watch again, reality thrashing her threats to pieces. But she couldn’t. There was no time.

  At the sound of her doorbell, Jennifer blew out her breath.

  She shoved the purse aside and crossed the living room in seconds. We’ll make this quick and to the point. I know what I want. I’ll convey it in clear and concise terms and be on my way.