by Shirley Jump
“Charlie’s here, you’re here, and my laptop’s here. I have everything I need.” Okay, so maybe Grandma had a point and Kate was hiding from the things she didn’t want to face, but it was all for a good cause—her grandmother and her novel.
“You have everything…except for the man you’re in love with.”
“I’m not in love with him, Grandma.” It was amazing how easily the lie slipped from her mouth and how believable the words sounded. “I just…got swept up in believing we had something real this time. I should have been more cautious.”
Grandma’s hand covered hers. “Love is about risk. Caution has no place in the equation.”
Kate scoffed. “I did that once. Not going to do it again.”
Grandma lowered herself into the wooden chair beside the potting table. She set the geraniums aside and began selecting some of the hardier cucumber plants that would go in the garden soon. “Did you know Grandpa Jack and I broke up once?”
“Really? No, I never heard that.” Her grandfather had been a charming, witty man who’d adored her grandmother. Every time he’d looked at her, it was as if he’d been watching a rainbow in the sky. They’d met as teenagers and had married straight out of high school. When Kate was six, he’d died, and it had taken decades for Grandma to get over the loss of her best friend.
“Your grandfather was a stubborn man, for all his charms.” Grandma’s eyes watered at the memory of her late husband. He’d been tall and dashing, with a full head of hair and pale green eyes that had always seemed to sparkle. “When we met, I was sixteen and he was seventeen. My father wasn’t going to let his little girl leave with an older man—” at that, Grandma laughed a little, “—so we sat on my front porch most evenings, sipping lemonade and playing cards.”
“That sounds perfect, if you ask me.”
“Those are some of my favorite memories, I must say. You learn what a man is made of when you can’t go off fadiddling around alone with him. Jack was happy just to be with me. Didn’t matter what we were doing.”
“People on Mars could see how much he loved you, Grandma.”
“And I loved him just as much. I thought we were going to get married, soon as I graduated high school, but then your grandpa got this foolish idea the day he turned eighteen. He decided he was going to see the world with his cousin and just leave me to pine away at home.”
“What did you do?”
“I told him to go right on ahead and see the world.” Grandma raised her chin, and even all these years later, Kate could see the strength and defiance in her face. “I wasn’t going to wait on him to realize I was the best woman he was ever going to meet. Then I took my lemonade, went back in the house and shut off the porch light, leaving that silly man in the dark.”
Kate laughed. “How did he take it?”
“I told you, he’s a stubborn man. I kept my back to that door, just waiting for him to knock and apologize and say of course he knew I was the best woman he’d ever met. Instead, that silly man went off to see the world.”
“He did? I didn’t know that.” Kate didn’t remember her grandfather ever talking about traveling when he was young. As far as she knew, he’d gotten married, gotten a job at Boeing as an engine repairman and had eventually worked his way up to management.
“Well, that’s because he didn’t get very far. Jack and his cousin set out the next morning. They made it all the way to Denver before he came to his senses. He turned that car around and came right back to Seattle. His cousin had been sleeping, and when he woke up, they were heading west. Oh, his cousin was as mad as a hornet at that, but Jack said he kept on driving until he got back to my front porch. He knocked on my door, and my father answered and gave him a good yelling at for breaking my heart.”
“Poor Grandpa Jack.” Kate giggled. “I bet he deserved it.”
“Of course he did. But as soon as my dad was done yelling, Jack said, ‘Sir, you’re right about everything you just said. I was a fool, but now I’m back, and I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.’ My father said to him, ‘Why would I let my daughter marry a fool?’ And you know what your Grandpa Jack said?”
Kate shook her head.
“‘Because this fool knows that she isn’t just the best woman in Seattle, she’s the best woman in the whole wide world.’” Grandma’s smile stretched ear to ear. She swiped away a tear before it could fall. “Oh, how I miss that man.”
“Well, I wish he was here to give Trent a stern, what’d you call it? Yelling at.” Kate sighed. “I don’t think he’s going to come around.”
Grandma waggled her fingers in the direction of the vegetable seedlings. “Bring me that tomato plant. That one I made you take home a few weeks ago.”
Kate did as her grandmother asked, placing the pot in her hands. “I didn’t think you noticed I brought him back.”
“Him.” Grandma chuckled. “See? I’m rubbing off on you. Look at how good he’s doing.”
“Well, he finally got his own pot. I’m sure that helped the plant grow.” She fingered the thick green stalks and serrated leaves that spread in triplicate from the end of each stem.
“Exactly. Branching out on his own helped this little guy be the best he could be.” Grandma set the pot on the wooden table and clasped one of Kate’s hands in both her own. “Just like you did this past month.”
“All I did was work on my novel.”
“You did so much more than that. You took a job that meant risking your heart again. You went on adventures—”
“We didn’t exactly climb Mt. Everest.”
“—and you braved a terrible storm from that awful blog,” Grandma went on undeterred, “while deciding to tell the story you were meant to tell. When you did all that, you had no idea what was waiting for you, or what weeds you’d encounter, but you did it anyway.”
“Writing Trent’s book was my job. I needed the money and…” Kate let out a long breath. “You’re right. I could have turned it down and taken a different job. When that blog came out, I could have quit writing.”
“Instead, here you are, working on that lovely novel and taking a chance with your talent.”
“And hiding out from the world, and Trent.” She had become a hermit of sorts, only venturing out to see Penny and trade pages. The writing had been part work, part excuse to avoid everything.
“You’re simply giving that silly man an opportunity to realize you are the best woman in the world.” Grandma gave Kate’s hands a little squeeze. “It’s all in how you look at things. If you keep looking for clouds, that’s all you’re going to see.”
Once again, her grandmother had just the right wisdom at just the right time, and in a moment when Kate hadn’t even realized how much she needed the support. Kate gathered her grandmother in a tight hug. “I love you so much, Grandma. Thank you, for always being there for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart.” Grandma drew back and gave Kate a smile. This time, when a tear escaped, she didn’t brush it away. “I do it for the soup.”
Sixteen
Trent almost wore a hole in the carpet of his office, pacing back and forth in front of the windows. The magazine interview was later today, and he’d rehearsed the statement Sarah had given him at least a dozen times.
“You look like a polar bear who’s been in the zoo too long,” Jeremy said from his seat on the leather sofa. He’d come in earlier with the charts and projections for the company. Everything looked to be on track, despite a slight dip after the terrible press from the blog post. “Will you quit pacing?”
Trent dropped into his desk chair. “I’m just worried about this interview. If I say the wrong thing, I could mess up everything.” As much as Trent had hoped the whole thing would just go away, it hadn’t. People were still talking about the controversy behind who had really written his book.
&nbs
p; Jeremy leaned back in the visitor’s chair and crossed one leg over his knee. “You need to stop that.”
“What, worrying about messing up the company? That’s all I do, Jeremy.”
“No, that’s all I should do. You’re the vision, Trent. Your instincts brought us to where we are today. You’ve taken risks I never would have. Made decisions that made my heart stop. Not everything worked out, of course, but by and large, because you jumped off mountains, GOA has become a force to be reckoned with. So don’t worry about the company. I’ll do enough of that for the both of us.” He held up the spreadsheets and reports he’d been analyzing earlier. “Just go on taking those risks and living outside those neat little boxes the rest of the world has.”
“Kate said something very similar to me,” Trent said. It seemed like a million years since she had stood in his conference room, looking beautiful and fierce. Every single day, he had tried to reach Kate, but she wasn’t responding. He’d sent flowers to her apartment that had gone undelivered, because she’d never answered the door. He’d texted and emailed, called and left messages. Nothing.
“Well, if you ask me, Kate knows you pretty well. I read the book, and it’s like she peeked inside your skull. I’ve known you for fifteen years, and even I learned a few things. She did an excellent job.”
Trent had thought so too, but it was good to see Jeremy agreeing. Sarah had also looked at the pages and told him last week that she thought the book was amazing. “Kate did a fabulous job writing the book. I shouldn’t be taking credit for it.” Sarah had helped him craft a statement that clarified Trent was the sole author of Be True to Your Nature and reiterating that Kate had merely served in an advisory role for structuring the content.
Since that day, Trent had printed out the book and read it three times, and every time, the guilt about that statement haunted him a little more. None of it was true, just as his memoir was less than truthful. Jeremy and Sarah might think it was a realistic portrait of Trent, but he knew the truth—that there was a hole in his history and a falseness in his byline.
“Well, do what you think is best for the company.” Jeremy got to his feet and clapped Trent on the shoulder. “You always do.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll try.” The problem? For the first time in his life, Trent didn’t know what to do. He stared at the statement on his desk until the words blurred. Beside it sat the printed manuscript, with his name beneath the title. He felt lost and alone, like he had gone too far to figure out his way back to the right thing.
Trent picked up his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t called in so long, he wasn’t sure the other end would answer. It rang three times, and then the strident voice of his father boomed through the speaker. “Hey, Dad.”
“Trent. It’s a surprise to hear your voice.”
Meaning for years, Trent had let months go by between contacting or seeing his family. Not because he didn’t care, but because he let work get in the way of what was important. Guilt washed over him. “I was just calling to see how the nursery was doing.”
“Good. That sale is always a great kickoff to the season. I’m glad the weather finally broke and it’s getting warmer out during the day. People will be wanting to do some planting now. Marla’s got a lot of new design clients, so it looks to be a busy spring for us.”
When had his relationship with his father become one of small talk about the weather and gardens? All those years Trent had stayed away, determined to carve out his own path, had come at the cost of the relationship with his family. When he’d been back home with Kate, she’d been the bridge between them all, the one who had made it easier for him to connect. Maybe it was time he did some of that work on his own.
“Is that all you wanted?” his dad asked. “I have some things to do.”
It would be so easy to hang up, end the call, and go back to the frosty impasse he’d had for too long with his father. “Not yet,” Trent said. “I wanted to ask you something. Do you remember that time you rescued me when I got stuck on Mt. Cascade?”
His father chuckled. “Of course I do. You scared me so badly that day. I was afraid a bear would get you before I could get there.”
“I never asked you…how did you find me? I mean, how did you know where to go?”
His father paused for a long time. In the background, Trent could hear the sound of passing cars, which meant Dad was probably outside the nursery. “At first, I wasn’t sure. Like I said, I was so scared and worried that I went off in five different directions. I was calling you and looking for you and panicking more every second.”
Trent had no children of his own, but he could imagine the terror in his father’s heart when he’d realized his son was gone. Young Trent had no concept of those repercussions, but adult Trent did. “I had no idea, Dad. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Kids will do that to you.” His father chuckled. His tone eased as he spoke, as if the memory had knocked down a few of the bricks in the wall between them. “You gave me a lot of scares over the years, but I figure it was payback for all the times I scared my own parents by riding my bike too fast or climbing something I shouldn’t.”
“Mom has always said you and I are more alike than not,” Trent said. “I guess I never really thought about what we had in common.”
“I think when you hit eighteen, you start looking for the ways you’re not like your father. It’s part of growing up and spreading your own wings.”
Those wings had brought Trent far from the family business, and far from the people who loved him. He’d used the excuse of the business to be too busy to go home, too busy to call, too busy to send a card. With each excuse, the wall between Trent and his family had gotten taller and thicker and more impossible to climb. That had to change going forward.
“I’m sorry. I…” Trent fiddled with the papers on his desk. “I guess I spread my wings so far, I wasn’t sure how to come back home.”
The noises on the other end of the phone changed, and Trent could picture his father heading to the back of the nursery, to the plants he loved and spent his days tending. “That’s the kind of kid you are, Trent. It’s part of why you have this big, international, going-to-be-on-the-stock-market company, and I have a little nursery in Hudson Falls. You fly farther and higher than I do, but that’s okay. I’m proud of you for what you’ve done and how far you’ve gone.”
Never had his father said those words. His father was a stoic man, stingy with praise, flush with criticism. The compliment was unexpected and rushed over Trent, making his eyes water. “Thank you, Dad. That means more than I can tell you.”
“Shoulda said it sooner.” His father cleared his throat. “I guess in my eyes, you’re still that little boy stuck on the mountain, scared and hungry and stubborn.”
That made Trent smile. He’d been called that more than once in his life. “Stubborn? Who, me?”
His father chuckled again. “Yet another trait you get from me. Your mother is the one who tempers that in me. She’s the one who stops me when I’m going off course, reels me back when I get lost. She did it that day you went missing.”
“She did? I didn’t know that.” It made sense, given the relationship his parents had. They loved each other deeply, and his mother’s soft, gentle way dulled the sharp edges of his father.
“When I was panicking looking for you, your mother told me to take a deep breath. She said no one knew you like I did, because we are so alike in many ways. I was stubborn, and I argued with her, but she won, like she usually does. Little tip, son. If a woman who loves you tells you something, chances are it’s true. When I stopped arguing with your mother, I stood there and inhaled and started thinking about where I would go if it was me. I remembered there was one little vista where you could see into the Skagit Valley. It was spring when you made that climb, and the tulips are blooming then. The valley is incredible at that time of year.”
/> Trent could still see the lush carpet of red, yellow, pink flowers, running for what seemed like miles along the rich earth of the river’s delta. “It was stunning. I’d never seen anything like it.”
“It’s the first climb I ever took with my dad. Did I ever tell you that? Anyway, I climbed up there and found you, shivering and starving.”
When his father had crested the little ridge Trent had been sitting on, the relief had been almost overpowering. Trent had run to his father, hugged his legs, and tried not to cry. “And then I wouldn’t leave.”
“You said you wanted to watch the sunset fall over the valley. Stubborn.” But this time when his father said the word, it was edged with love and admiration.
Trent sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. These were the parts he’d forgotten, the memories he’d pushed to the side with all those excuses that had kept him away from home. His throat got thick and his eyes stung as the vivid memory played in his mind. “Instead of yelling at me, you took off your jacket, and you put it over my shoulders. Then you sat down beside me. We sat there for so long, watching the sunset.”
“It was all kinds of purples and oranges. Amazing.”
The weather that day hadn’t been much different from the weather right now, and up on the mountain, the temperature would be even lower. Yet Trent couldn’t remember his father ever complaining, not once, while they’d sat on the hard, chilly stones and waited for the sun to descend. “Weren’t you cold, Dad?”
“How could I be cold, Trent? I was with my son watching one of the most spectacular sunsets in the world. It could have been ten degrees below zero and I wouldn’t have cared. I knew right then that this was a moment I would maybe never have again, and I was going to hold on to it with all my strength.” Emotion pitched the syllables in his father’s words a note or two higher. “In the years you’ve been gone, Trent, that’s been the moment in my mind. It is the truest, sweetest memory I have. There was nothing but the sun and the tulips, and you and I.”