Julie circled a bed of tall grasses, broke off a few stems and pushed them into her purse with the dianthus. “Actually, the secret of my success is just to be a decent human being. I make friends where I can. Sometimes that turns into donations, sometimes it doesn’t. Many won’t come to fruition till long after I’ve left the foundation.”
“You’re not leaving? I still have so much to learn from you.”
“I’ve never seen the point of flowering kale, have you?” She gestured to the cabbage-like plants. “Anyway, I’ll be here till some rich, handsome donor sweeps me off my feet and lets me stay home to raise dogs and babies.”
“That’s what you want?” She’d pegged Julia as a career woman, not a domestic goddess.
“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” Julia’s sunny smile came out again. “I can never get enough pansies. They’re aggressively cheerful.”
“I haven’t given it much thought. Babies, not pansies.”
Now they were standing before an antique sundial in the middle of the garden. “Tick tock, Remi. Work isn’t everything. Don’t let Leo be the only guy in your life.”
Remi couldn’t help but smile. “A human companion would be nice. But it’s not easy to trust.”
“People and dogs will always let you down.” She pointed to a patch of droopy chrysanthemums sitting in a parched bed. “You wilt for awhile. Then you let the rain perk you up and start over again.”
After checking over her shoulder for the guard, Remi carefully broke off a stunning, deep pink rose from a bush. She offered it gingerly to Julia. “Thank you. For everything.”
Julia expertly shaved the thorns off the rose’s stem with one manicured thumbnail. Then she wrapped it in tissues and tucked it carefully into her purse. “Thank me later. When Tiller takes you dancing.”
“Excuse me? Tiller hates me, and the feeling is mutual.”
“Oh, please. It’s time to scrape off those thorns and see the rose for what it is.”
Remi watched Julia bend and yank a fistful of black-eyed susans out of another bed. “You’re reaching a little.”
Julia dropped the flowers into her bag. “I’m a trained observer, and I see that you and Tiller have some old compost to sort out. I doubt it’s a coincidence that he’s with us at the foundation.” She pointed at a plant with orange fruit. “Grab me some ornamental pepper, will you?”
“Are you crazy?” But Remi did as she asked, stepping lightly across the soil to gather a few stems. “I could get fined.”
It took finesse to fit the peppers into the bag without crushing everything else. “You’re out of that basement, so why not live a little? Go to the gala and have fun tonight.”
“Not without Leo.”
“You don’t need Leo. He’s a crutch.”
“I got out of the basement by leaning on him.”
“That’s only partly true. You just decided you’d had enough of your stories and you came out. Leo’s along for the ride.”
Remi collapsed on a bench and stared up at Julia. “Life was easier when I was too scared to talk to you.”
Julia grinned at her. “Bring me some flowers from the gala, okay? If you do, I’ll keep lying to Marcus for you.”
“I’m not stealing flowers from the gala. Where am I going to put them? In my clutch?”
“Fundraising requires some fancy footwork. I’m quite sure you can sneak an arrangement right out of there. I’ll expect it on my desk tomorrow morning. In return, I’ll see what I can do to ease Marcus over his grief.”
“He said he’d fire one of us.”
“All smoke and no celosia,” she said, gesturing to a patch of blazing red and orange flowers. “At least I think so. He does have a peculiar attachment to that couch.” She added some yellow snapdragons to the heap in her purse. “You know what that man needs?”
“A dog?” Remi got up and tried to steer Julia to the garden’s entrance.
“Exactly. One of these days I’m going to give him a papillon in a designer bag and he’ll fall in love. In the meantime, if you or Tiller could land the donation, it would go a long way to helping him over the trauma.”
“So… no pressure.”
“Pressure’s good. Not all the time, but in growing season. Think about the daffodils pushing their way through the snow in spring. Now that’s pressure. And look what beauty ensues.” She pointed to another bed. “Grab me some of that lavender, please.”
“That’s Russian sage, actually,” Remi said. “Grows in my mom’s garden.”
A security guard in uniform stepped out of a wrought iron archway that was covered in vine. “Excuse me,” he said.
Remi quaked, but Julia just gave him one of her sunny smiles. “Yes, sergeant?”
“I’m not a—” The security guard decided to quit while he was ahead. “Never mind. May I ask you to open your bag?”
“Okay, but you might not like what you see.”
“I’m sure I won’t, actually.”
Still smiling, Julia started to open her bag. “Most guys get so squeamish about feminine hygiene products, but I guess sergeants are a tougher lot.”
The security guard raised one hand. “Understood. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.”
“Oh, we will.” Julia waited till his back was turned and whispered. “Sergeant, my aster.”
Chapter 12
“Remola, you’re late.”
Betsy Malone looked even crankier than she sounded when Remi walked into her childhood home, but she knew her late arrival had little to do with her mother’s mood. She’d have to keep her visit short and as sweet as possible. The gala was just a few hours away and one of the biggest nights of her career. The last thing she needed was a dose of her mom. But she did need a dose of her aunt, whose visits were as rare as the rubies she was named after.
Leo swaggered into the house, walked right past Betsy Malone and made a wagging spectacle of himself in front of another woman he’d only met once before. The other woman looked very similar to Betsy, but her bold red hair, dramatic makeup and flamboyant attire set them apart.
Separated by only a year, the sisters had grown up in Dorset Hills. After leaving for college, however, Ruby had rarely been back. Once every few years she’d whirl into town bearing gifts and wild stories of adventures in foreign lands. She’d settled in San Diego but her work took her all over the world.
“Darling,” she said, picking up Leo. “You look wonderful.”
“Thanks, Aunt Ruby,” Remi said, smiling. Her aunt was the sun to her mother’s cool moon.
“I meant Leo,” Ruby said. She paused and then laughed. “Kidding, darling. Although he looks good, too. I’ve always loved beagles.”
Betsy crossed her arms and frowned. She wasn’t a dog-lover, although she’d permitted a series of them while Remi and her brother were growing up. The moment her children were grown and gone, that was the end of it. If she had her way, Leo wouldn’t bring his white hair into the house. But she didn’t have her way. Remi was decidedly a “love me, love my dog” sort of daughter.
“Where’s the ambrosia salad?” her mother asked. “You promised.”
“Oh mom,” Remi said. “I’m swamped with work this weekend. Anyway, no one really likes ambrosia salad.”
“Your father does,” Betsy said. “It’s his favorite.”
Remi’s dad ghosted out the room as he always did when there was conflict of any kind. He wasn’t going to take stand on ambrosia salad, that was certain.
“I’ll make the salad,” Ruby said.
“You don’t cook,” Betsy said. “Besides, you’re a guest.”
“I’m family,” Ruby said. “And I want to pass down my special twist on ambrosia salad to my beloved niece.”
“We like it the usual way,” Betsy said. “Ambrosia salad is iconic.”
“Bets, I’m going to pull rank on you,” Ruby said. “I’m 11 months older than you and if I want to make ambrosia salad my way, you’d better clear the kitchen. My version is goi
ng to blow your mind.”
Once her mother had grumbled her way outside to the other guests on the patio, Remi laughed. “Do you really have a mind-blowing twist on the worst salad of all time?”
“I do, darling,” Ruby said, setting the dog down. “The seventies were sadly underrated, but a little nip and tuck to an old classic is good for everyone.”
Ruby had had a few nips and tucks herself in recent years and looked at least ten years younger than her sister, which explained some of the tension between them. Most of it, however, was just part of their sibling package.
“How long are you staying?” Remi asked, as Ruby rummaged through the cupboards for ingredients.
“Just tonight,” Ruby said, ripping open a bag of marshmallows and dumping them into a crystal bowl.
“You came all the way from San Diego for one night?”
“Your mother and I can’t share a roof for longer than that, I’m afraid. But I’ll hole up at the Larkson Hotel for another night and see some old friends.” She pushed up her billowing sleeves and started chopping candied ginger. “You want to know something strange, Remi? Every time I come back to Dorset Hills I hate it just a tiny bit less.”
“Yay,” Remi said, grinning. “Move back when you retire. Pretty please?”
“Maybe. Are there any rich old men to show me a good time?”
“Definitely. I meet some through my work. Just say the word and I’ll have you matched up in no time.”
“What about you, darling? Your mother was rambling on about a billionaire, but she’s worried you’ll fall back in with the gardener.”
“Tiller’s not a gardener anymore,” Remi said, collecting sour cream from the refrigerator. “I don’t think he’ll stick around long anyway.”
She looked up and Ruby’s hazel eyes were on her. “You’re pining. Never pine for a man, darling, no matter how good he is with a spade. Besides, you know the old saying… it’s as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one. Think about all the good work you could do for dogs in this town if you took up with that billionaire.”
“James lives in New York, Aunt Ruby. I don’t think Dog Town would hold him.”
“You’d be surprised what a man will do for the right woman,” she said. “Besides, most people swim back here like salmon to spawn and then die.” Grinning, she added, “I missed the spawning but I might make it back in time for the dying part.”
“Aunt Ruby, don’t even joke about dying.” Remi beat cream with a whisk so vigorously that white flecks speckled her face. “You were smart to leave Dorset Hills after high school. It feels like that’s the only window for escape. Otherwise you’re stuck here for life.”
Ruby grated fresh ginger over the marshmallows before answering. “I’ve had a fabulous career and plenty of thrills along the way. I did what I had to do. But don’t underestimate the comforts of home, Remi. Many a day I’ve wished I had a daughter like you—or at least lived close enough to see you grow. Things might have been different.”
Dumping the cream into crystal bowl, Remi asked, “Different how?”
Ruby added dried cranberries to the mix in the bowl and sighed. “I love your mother dearly but she’s no ambrosia salad. Our mother—your grandmother—well, she was a difficult woman to say the least. I fled, but your mom stuck around and got the brunt of it.” She reached over and brushed cream off Remi’s nose with the back of her hand. “Sometimes you got splattered by the fallout, I’m afraid.”
“I’m okay, Aunt Ruby. Really.” She forced a smile. “Everything’s coming up roses since Leo arrived.”
The dog had settled between her feet in case scraps happened to fall. There was little to tempt him with ambrosia salad, but he lived in hope.
Ruby gave Remi another penetrating look. “Well, all right then. An aunt worries about her favorite niece.”
“Her only niece.”
“Because of that special relationship, I’ve now shared the secret to a modern ambrosia salad: you’ve got to dazzle the palate with a mix of flavors and find the right balance. You were always such a sweet child.”
“You’re saying I need to tart up?”
“Just toss a little ginger in the mix.” She gave the salad a good stir and then sprinkled coconut on top. “Don’t go nuts with it.” Turning, she grabbed Remi’s hand and squeezed. “All I’m saying is that you should go after what you want. Hard. Don’t let your mom—or anyone—hold you back.” Without waiting for a response, she covered the salad in plastic wrap. “Wait a few minutes before you join us outside. Your mother is going to have a minor meltdown when she sees this. No need to get caught in the crossfire.”
Giving her aunt a quick hug, Remi retreated to her old bedroom. Nothing had changed since she moved out, and she was grateful for that. Her brother had always been her mother’s favorite, or so it seemed, but when he left years a couple of years after Remi, Betsy had instantly turned his office into a craft room, and spent lots of time in there scrapbooking.
Today, Remi perched on the blue and white quilt she’d always loved, and stared around, while Leo curled up on the pillow. The same photos sat in the same places of all the dogs she’d loved before. Sheba, her first canine love, had pride of place on the dresser. Getting up, she ran her finger along a row of old photo albums on the top shelf of a low bookcase. Selecting the oldest one, she sat down again and flipped through it, with one hand resting on Leo’s head. Page after page of pups stared out at her. They’d been her best friends, and sometimes her only friends, and yet it hadn’t felt like a terribly lonely childhood. Those dogs had made her what she was today, and that wasn’t so bad.
Finally she came to a photo with two enormous wolfhounds. Hannah Pemberton, just 10 years old, stood between them with an arm looped around each neck. You couldn’t tell from the old photo, but Hannah had been crying. Remi had forgotten all about the drama of that day. Now it came rushing back, and it made her see Hannah in a different light. Carefully lifting the photo out of the album, she slipped it into her purse.
Ruby cracked open the door. “It’s safe, darling. Come join us outside.”
Trailing after her, Remi stepped out on the patio and gasped. The garden she’d helped Tiller plant was at its finest. It was so lush that it rivaled Rosetta gardens, albeit on a much smaller scale. To Remi, its riotous blooms were all the more beautiful for being crowded and disorderly.
“Wow,” she said, stepping down onto a stone path flanked by banks of tall zinnias and chrysanthemums. “It’s really matured.”
“Haven’t we all?” Ruby called after her.
Suddenly the sprinkler system switched on and cold water rained down on Remi. Leo frolicked after her into the beds, kicking mud onto her bare legs and white dress.
“Remola, get out of that garden right now,” Betsy said. “Do not let that dog dig.”
Remi tried to grab Leo but he threw his shoulder down and rolled. Great. Now she’d have to shower both of them before the gala.
“Don’t look so glum,” Ruby said as Remi squelched back onto the patio. “A little water and sunshine is exactly what it takes to grow.”
“Stay right there,” her mother said. “I don’t want you or that little monster tracking mud inside. I’ll get a towel.”
“Never mind, Mom,” Remi said. “Just grab me some ambrosia salad to go.”
Chapter 13
“I always wondered where Julia got all those bouquets at work,” Arden said as she pulled a flat iron through Remi’s hair. “They’re mostly a crazy mishmash, and no one could have that many admirers.”
“Julia could.” Remi tried to lean in to apply her eyeliner, and Arden held her back. “I’ve been so intimidated by her. She’s so quiet and professional at work and with clients. But there’s another side to her—funny and sweet.”
“That must be the flower klepto side.” Arden shook her head, bemused. “I guess we’re all a bit quirky under the surface, aren’t we?”
Remi nodded, thinking about Ard
en’s lipstick collection, which was just the tip of a very colorful iceberg. She’d brought a few dozen samples today to choose exactly the right one for the gala, and also a huge bag of scarves and shawls that spilled brilliance over the couch in Remi’s dull little one-bedroom apartment.
Staring at her friend’s reflection, she asked, “Did you know about Leo?”
Arden’s gaze dropped instantly. “Know what about Leo?”
“That he was chewing up people’s belongings?”
Releasing a sleek section of hair, Arden moved on to the next. “I heard a rumor about a glove. I don’t think it was ever proven.”
Remi sighed. “Arden, why didn’t you tell me? Do people really think I’m so fragile I can’t handle that stuff?”
“Leo is loved. No one wanted him to be tossed out by Marcus.”
She was sidestepping the question like a true friend, Remi realized. “Well, I’m not that fragile, and I clearly need to take my dog in hand.”
“No harm ever came from more training,” Arden said. “But don’t change too much too soon. You’ve been doing great. And no one minds losing a few things.”
“There were others?”
“Simon’s lost a few cables. Gina’s got some mismatched shoes. I’m down a lipstick or five.”
“Oh my god. No wonder that dog’s so tired every night. He’s a scavenger.”
Arden finished the last section and let Remi swiftly apply her makeup. Then they went over the outfits and decided on a fuchsia dress with deep ruffles and skinny straps.
“You’re nobody’s granny tonight,” Arden said, opening her magic palette of lipsticks and selecting the exact match for the dress. She applied it carefully after Remi slipped on her high-heeled sandals. “Tiller’s going to have trouble keeping his eyes off you and on Hannah.”
Remi’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been talking to Julia. She knew something happened between Tiller and me in high school.”
The Dog Town Collection Page 9