How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini

by Heather Horrocks

  “About you and your young man there in Utah.”

  “John? What about him?”

  “I want to know how you feel about John Wayne Walker.”

  “I’m—” Lori stopped, not sure how much to share.

  “Tell me the truth, Lori Elaine Scott. Are you in love with him?”

  Lori hesitated for a second, but the need to have her mother soothe her pain overcame her need to keep silent. “Yes.”

  “Why, that’s wonderful.”

  “It would be, except he wants children.” Lori sighed. “Six of them.”

  “Oh, dear.” Lori could hear the excitement fade from her mother’s voice. “That does present a problem.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But nothing that can’t be worked out.” It had apparently only been a momentary lull in optimism. “People who can’t have children get married all the time, Lori. Just tell him the truth. He’ll understand. Maybe you could adopt.”

  “He wants his own children, not someone else’s.” She wished she was numb to the sensation of her heart being shredded.

  “Have you asked him?”

  “Of course I haven’t. I don’t need to.”

  “Honey, you need to give him the chance to make his own choice. You can’t give up on love based on an assumption. What if you’re wrong? What if he’s an even better man than you think?”

  “I can’t tell him, Mom. And I can’t adopt.”

  “Why not? Adoption is a perfectly viable option.”

  But adoption wouldn’t give John a daughter who looked just like her. “He’s made it crystal clear what he wants.”

  “Listen, honey. There’s more to a marriage than the children you bring into it. And there’s more to your cold feet than just your infertility. I think you’re too scared to trust a man because of your father.”

  “Oh, please, not Dad again.” Why did everyone keep bringing him up? She just wanted to forget him. But even as she had the thought, she wondered if there was some truth to her mother’s words. Was she still—like Agatha’s Spade and Hope Garden Club friend—stuck in the first phase of grieving? Did she have cold feet because of the hurt caused by her father?

  “Please forgive him so you can get on with your own life, your own happiness. Your father has repented and paid the price. It was hard for him; he was out of the Church for several years.”

  “He replaced me with three other kids.”

  “Oh, honey. He never replaced you. He loves you with all his heart. He calls me all the time asking how he can reconnect.”

  “Sure he does. To soothe his guilty conscience.”

  “Give him a break, Lori. He may have made the first mistake and started this rift, but you’ve made it bigger over the years. Not all men can be trusted, but there are trustworthy men out there who can be. Your father let us down, but your Grandpa Scott never did. Not ever. Not even once.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Lori admitted, tears stinging her eyes as she fingered the necklace he’d given her so many years before.

  “Your father made your teenage years hard, but now you’re choosing to let him make the rest of your life hard. You’re a smart girl, Lori. Make a smart choice.”

  “What about the Hideous H’s?”

  Her mother chuckled. “You mean like . . . healing? Happiness? Heaven on earth? Hardly hideous.”

  It was no use arguing with her mother. Still fingering the necklace, remembering the calm feeling Grandpa Scott had always carried with him, her heart softened. “How did you keep from getting bitter, Mom?”

  “Are you kidding? He left me for another woman. Of course I was bitter. And angry. But I finally had to look at some hard truths and learn some tough lessons. I had to see that I was part of the problem we were having. And I realized I had to get on with my life, and the only way I could do that was to forgive your father. And Fiona Bennett. I had to repent for harboring bitterness and hatred against both of them.” Her voice grew husky with emotion. “And I had to repent for helping plant that same bitterness in my daughter’s heart, something I’ve regretted for a long, long time.”

  “If you’re over it, if you’ve forgiven Dad, why haven’t you ever remarried?”

  Her mother laughed. “Because I’ve never met the right man. If I ever do, I won’t hesitate at the chance to love again. I advise you not to lose any opportunities, either.”

  “You come home straight after work. How are you supposed to meet a new guy?”

  “Greg told me he can place an ad for me on eHarmony. I may just take him up on his offer.”

  Lori laughed and wiped away a tear. “Be sure to mention that they’ll never win an argument with you. Ever.”

  “I don’t plan on arguing with the next guy. One of the things I learned.”

  ~

  “That ought to do it,” said Serena, hands on her hips and a smile on her face.

  Lori surveyed the stand they’d crudely constructed out of pieces of lumber given to them by Serena’s father. It was little more than a square table with a place for a sign on the front and a place for a large box of zucchini on top. They pulled several full boxes onto the grass next to the stand. “It won’t win any awards.”

  “But it’s good enough. And now—for the sign.” Serena pulled out five permanent markers and wrote the word “FREE,” in elegant calligraphy on a large poster board which she nailed to the front. She added a sketch of a zucchini.

  “Hey, you’re a good artist.”

  “I like to draw.” Serena shrugged. “And I’m majoring in art at the university.”

  “I can’t even draw a straight line.”

  Serena laughed. “Do you see any straight lines on this thing? That skill is not a prerequisite for an art degree.”

  “Now for the zucchini.” Lori kicked the edge of one of the full boxes. “Okay, here’s the moment of truth. Will this thing hold?”

  “If not, we’ll have created a big mess.”

  Laughing, they hefted the heavy box onto the top of the stand—and waited. The stand wobbled, but held.

  “All right. Looks like you’re in business.” Serena tossed the markers into her large “I’m a Purple Person” bag.

  “I forgot to ask—how’s it going with the salsa guy?”

  Serena smiled and batted her eyelashes. “He is totally within my power.”

  “I have no doubt of that. I just hope you’re using your power for good, and not for evil,” Lori teased.

  “We’re going out Friday. You and John want to join us?”

  Lori hadn’t told Serena about the new developments in her relationship, but it was time. “Actually, John and I aren’t seeing much of each other anymore. We’re back to just being friends.”

  “Ha. I’d like to see anyone go from romance back to just friends. I don’t think it can be done.”

  “Well, we’re doing it.”

  “Sure you are. And I’m a Chihuahua.” She gave Lori a hug. “I’ve got to leave to get ready for my cousin’s quinceañera.”

  “Quin-see-what?”

  “Quinceañera. It’s a Mexican thing. We have a fancy, dress-up party when girls turn fifteen. There’ll be lots of food and dancing.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Both with salsa, of course.”

  “Of course.” Lori smiled. “Have fun.”

  As Serena climbed into her car, Lori opened an umbrella and stuck it into the box of zucchini to keep the vegetables from wilting. The mid-September sun was still hot in the afternoon, though the evenings were beginning to cool.

  The vegetables would probably do okay, but she was getting more sunburnt here than she’d ever gotten in New York. There was something about the sun here in Utah that seemed hotter.

  Lori carried her hammer into the house. In the kitchen,
she poured herself a cold glass of water and pressed it against her warm forehead. Out on the patio, she turned on the fan and sat under the breeze.

  Ah. That felt better already.

  Charles’s yard was very relaxing. The garden was still in its last bloom, and she was enjoying being a part of the harvest, though she would never have suspected it when she first moved here.

  Nearly every last bit of harvested zucchini was now in the front yard. If Serena was right, it would be gone soon. There were more on the vines, but she’d given up keeping pace with them.

  Picking up the romance novel Serena had lent her, she read until the breeze from the ceiling fan cooled too much for comfort—about a hundred pages. Standing and stretching, she turned off the fan and went back inside.

  Feeling good about having dealt with the zucchini problem, she looked out the living room window to check the stand.

  The stand was gone.

  Someone had taken it! Stolen it! Swiped it!

  She yanked open the front door just in time to see two other disturbing things.

  John Wayne Walker’s truck was pulling into her driveway.

  And there were two more boxes of zucchini on her lawn than what she’d started with. Someone had stolen her stand—and left their zucchini for her!

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  John turned off his truck and climbed out.

  Lori was walking across her front lawn—which was littered with boxes of zucchini—a distressed look on her face.

  Concerned, he crossed to her. “Lori, what’s wrong?”

  Apparently speechless, she motioned to four boxes of zucchini on her lawn.

  “What happened?”

  “Serena and I built a stand—and someone stole it!” she wailed. “And then they left me their zucchini.”

  He couldn’t help it; he laughed.

  “It’s not funny.”

  He pulled her into his arms and she clung to him. “It took us two hours to build that stand. Serena even painted the word ‘free’ on the front of it.”

  “So someone took the free stand and left their zucchini for you?” He couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s hilarious.”

  She pulled loose from his embrace, apparently offended, but he still couldn’t stop laughing.

  “This is zucchini season, honey. It’s a war zone. There is no Geneva convention for gardeners.”

  She started to smile. “I suppose, given enough time, even I may laugh at this.”

  “I hope so. Otherwise, you may have to go to garden therapy or something.”

  She snorted. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

  He grinned and touched her chin. “But you’re smiling.”

  She nodded. “So maybe you’re funnier than I think you are.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get rid of this stuff.”

  “How? You almost got me arrested doorbell ditching.”

  “Let’s drive it to the shelter. They can feed homeless people some of those zucchini tacos.”

  It took them thirty minutes to drop off the boxes. As he drove toward her house, Lori touched his arm. “Would you drive back up in the canyon so I can see the leaves again? Please?”

  Hiding his delight, he nodded and turned toward the canyon. It was too early for sunset, but he was heartened by the fact that she wanted to go back where they’d had such an intimate conversation before.

  When he parked, she stayed on her side of the truck. He didn’t reach for her hand. Not yet. He’d let her make the moves tonight so he didn’t spook her back into “just friends” mode.

  “I love the vivid colors up here.”

  “I have to ask you. Are the leaves on the trees in New York black or something?”

  She shot him a look that clearly asked, “Are you crazy?”

  “I mean, that’s all I see you wear, so I was just wondering,” he teased. “Maybe New York is a black-and-white state, all one-dimensional.”

  She snorted. He loved her little snort. It was a delicate thing, more like a little sneeze. She used it when she was trying to indicate her disdain or disgust, but he thought it was cute. In fact, he liked to see if he could provoke a snort.

  “New York has lots of beautifully colored trees,” she said defensively. “And I wear lots of other colors.”

  He chuckled and motioned toward her outfit. “Prove it.”

  She looked down at her T-shirt, shorts, and sandals—all black—and pulled a face at him. “I have other colors at home.”

  “Prove it,” he repeated.

  “Back in New York, I have a closet full of colorful clothes.”

  He laughed at the indignant look on her face. “Whatever.”

  “Are you prejudiced against the color black?”

  “Not at all. It looks ravishingly gorgeous on you.”

  She snorted again. “You are so full of it.”

  He smiled. He’d succeeded in getting another cute little snort. “You’re probably right.”

  She turned back to the leaves, gazing out the windshield, and they sat in silence again. Finally, she said, “Do you ever wonder how God invented colors?”

  “I’ve wondered if we helped.”

  “If we did, then I helped invent the color—”

  “Black?” he teased.

  “Nope. I helped invent red. It’s my favorite.”

  “Shush your pretty mouth before someone hears you! Don’t ever say that around these parts.”

  “Why?”

  “Up here, it’s got to be USU blue, not U of U red. You could get seriously hurt talking like that. Think of your safety, girl.”

  “Girl, huh?” She snorted again. “I remember when I turned twelve, my father bought me a dozen red balloons.” She paused and shook her head. “I haven’t thought about that forever. He tied my present to the balloons.”

  He was glad her voice didn’t hold any bitterness at the moment. “What was the present?”

  “Another locket to hang on the necklace from Grandpa Scott.”

  “Do you still have it?” he asked.

  “It had pictures of him and my mom in it. After he left, I put it in my mother’s jewelry box.”

  She didn’t say more, and he didn’t push.

  After long moments, she turned to him. “John, do you think it’s possible for people to change? Really change?”

  At the wistful sound in her voice, he started to reach for her hand, then stopped himself. “Yes. I do. Very much so.”

  She sighed. “Can we get out of the truck for awhile?”

  Feeling very tender toward her, he said, “Sure.”

  She opened the door. He joined her in front of the truck.

  “I feel like I could stay here forever, looking at this scene. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. Just like I feel peaceful around you, and when I’m in church.”

  Just like he felt warm and happy when he was around her.

  That emotion began to swell within his heart. An emotion he’d never felt before—never recognized as being possible—spread through him, filling him, body and soul, with warmth and light and . . . love.

  Finally, he knew without a doubt.

  He was in love with Lori. A soul mate, love-nearly-at-first-sight, eternal kind of love.

  Is it time? he prayed silently. Right now?

  Yes. The answer whispered through his soul.

  He was confused. She hasn’t regained her testimony. The impression of peace came again, stronger, as if the testimony would come.

  What if I scare her off again?

  The whispering voice brought peace to his heart. It is time.

  He’d learned on his mission that if the Spirit said the time was right to say something, it m
eant the other person was ready to hear it. He prayed that was the case with Lori.

  Turning to her, he dropped to one knee and took her hand.

  “Lori, I love you with all my heart.” His voice shook with the emotion flooding his senses. “Will you marry me?”

  ~

  Stunned, Lori said, “I thought we were just friends.”

  “You know we’ve both felt more for each other than that from the beginning,” John said, still on one knee, both his hands warm around hers.

  Her heart ached. She wanted to marry John with all her heart, but she couldn’t. Not when he wanted children so much and she couldn’t give them to him.

  He stood, still holding her hands in his. “Lori, you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known. When I’m around you, I’m a complete person. When I’m around you, I want to be my best. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t know if I can survive without you. You have become as necessary to me as the very air I breathe. I need you. I love you.”

  Her love for John swelled until it burned against her eyes. As the tears spilled onto her cheeks—tears of love, of joy, of pain—the truth of her feelings escaped in a whisper. “I love you, too.”

  “Then marry me. We’ll be good together.”

  “I . . . can’t.” She could hear the anguish in her voice.

  He pulled her into his arms and she fit perfectly, as if she’d always been meant to nestle there, sheltered and loved.

  “You are the woman of my dreams. You are everything I’ve been searching for . . . forever.”

  He wiped a tear away from her cheek, gently.

  “I can’t be who you want, John.”

  “You don’t understand, Lori. You are already exactly who I want, just the way you are.”

  She had never wanted anything more in her life.

  I can have him if I say yes.

  The thought exploded within her.

  She could have him.

  In that moment, she wanted more than anything to be with John. She wanted to marry him. To spend her life with him.

  She couldn’t walk away from him. Not from everything she’d always wanted.

  Her mother had said Lori needed to tell him about her infertility, but as she looked into his beautiful blue eyes and saw the love there, she realized she could never say the words. If she did, she might see that love fade. He might leave her. And she couldn’t deal with that.