Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1)

by Karin Boutall

  Chapter 4

  The next morning Joan woke to the sound of birds singing outside her bedroom window. Last night, Zack had come home and gushed about batting practice. He showed her what it was like to swing a bat and catch a ball in a mitt. To celebrate, they had splurged on banana pudding until he ran out of stories. He was so overjoyed, he'd promised to get himself to school in the morning so she could sleep in.

  She pushed aside the blue comforter that had kept her warm and sleepy. She was grateful for the extra hour of sleep, but it was time to get up. The day ahead would be busy. First, she had to discuss the blueprints she'd drafted for Holden's Books with Blaine. Next she had to help Roz open the store. Then after school, she had to help Chloe and Lindsey get the pepper plants transplanted and ready for sale and there were dozens of them.

  But before she started work, Joan wanted to inspect Zack's room. She needed assurance he had gotten himself to school. When she peered inside his room, she noticed his backpack was gone. So far, the morning was off to a great start. Next, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She checked the refrigerator. The lunch she'd prepared the night before was gone. He had successfully gotten himself off to school. Confident he was securely on his way, she started the coffee and headed for the shower.

  After breakfast she walked across Town Park toward Holden's Books. The sweet scent of lilies clung to the cool air. The park was deserted. The white gazebo, used for weddings and public events, stood empty. Only the surrounding azaleas were blazing in shades of vibrant reds.

  On Main Street, she passed City Hall, the oldest building in town. Above the oak doors, the words 'Sand Hill Cove 1758' were etched in the gray stone. Sara's family had built the stone fortress when they founded the town. And since that time, a Deaux had held an official city position whether mayor, alderman, or council member. Sara continued the tradition as mayor and still used the building for city business. But unless Sara had children soon, she would be the last Deaux to carry on the tradition.

  Joan forgot about the Deaux family history when she eyed the two sculpted urns that stood guard at Holden's entryway. She scratched the surface of the urns revealing, dry lifeless soil. Just as she slipped the dirt between her fingers, Cal and Sara stepped out of the shop. They were so immersed in discussion, they hadn't noticed Joan until Cal almost stumbled over her.

  For a moment, the silence felt strange, like an artificial plant mixed in a bouquet of live roses. Cal's eyes gleamed with surprise. Sara pressed her hands over her tailored jacket. Cal finally broke the silence. “Well hello,” he said. “What brings you here today?”

  Joan shook his extended hand. “A new contract to liven up Holden's.”

  “Good for you. By the way, how did last night turn out?” Sara's eyes shifted from Cal to Joan. “I mean after batting practice.”

  “Zack was thrilled. He showed me everything he learned. How did you encourage him?”

  “He encouraged himself, I believe.”

  Joan winced at his brush off. “I do hope this works well for him.” She switched her gaze to Sara, who still stood behind Cal as if she wanted to remain unnoticed. “Sara, good to see you too, but I'm sorry we missed you at the opening.”

  Sara opened her mouth as if to speak, then paused for a moment. “Opening?”

  “You remember, the ribbon cutting ceremony for Saturday?”

  “I don't recall.” A faint blush crossed Sara's cheek.“My staff must have missed the message. I am so sorry.”

  Joan watched Sara straighten her back then elongate her neck like a crane preparing for flight. Either Sara was a liar or absentminded. Unable to determine who the real Sara was from this conversation, she dropped the subject. “How unfortunate. I know it happens sometimes, but we do hope to see you soon.”

  Cal swooped into the conversation. “It's been good to see you, Joan.” He tapped Sara's arm as if it were a familiar signal to leave.

  Joan watched them stroll underneath the live oak canopy that enveloped Main Street. They walked in unison, her rich red hair shining, his linen safari shirt tucked in his belted slacks. They were woven together in private conversation and looked as comfortable as she and Chris had when they were married. Watching them together made her wonder if Cal would stop coaching. She tried to dismiss the thought, but continued to worry. Zack would be so hurt if he left. Her stomach turned.

  As her stomach rumbled, Joan stepped into Holden's Books. Blaine grinned and waved.

  “Darling, you've come to dazzle my customers with your eye-popping designs?”

  Joan smiled. Blaine's flashing eyes always lifted her spirits. “Possibly.”

  “Possibly? You mean absolutely. Do you need my special brew?”

  Before she could answer, Blaine poured her a cup of dark roast.

  “So tell me, what's on your mind?” he asked as he plopped the mug of coffee on the counter.

  “You and your eagle eyes.” Joan said as she sipped his brew and looked around the store. The only customers left in the store were a man and woman, engrossed in morning newspapers.

  “Sara and Cal, I ran into them outside,” she said. “Did you know that she forgot about my opening ceremony?”

  “I had heard.”

  “Of course, Mr. Editor and town historian, how could I even ask? Anyway, when I asked her about it, she blamed it on her staff.”

  “Very possible, she relies on them.”

  “Hmm.” Joan sipped on her coffee. “And then there's Cal.”

  “Oh really?” Blaine arched his thick eyebrows.

  “Not like that.” Joan felt her cheeks flush. “Besides he and Sara seem to make a great couple.”

  “Svveetheart, he is buttering her up so he can get approval to launch his new business, Eco-tours.”

  “I see. So he plans on running the business from Sand Hill Cove? How's that going to work when the mayor figures out she's just his pawn?”

  “Should work out well for everybody, including Sand Hill Cove. Sara's tough and can change on a dime. If her demands aren't met, she'll bury ya. Her only goal is to keep Sand Hill Cove thriving, just like her ancestors. And, as you can see, this town is thriving. So who is really using who?”

  Joan sighed, “So I don't need to worry about Zack.”

  “Whoa, fill me in dear.”

  “I mean I can't believe Cal has Zack playing baseball. It's odd for Zack, but good for him. I thought that Zack might be brokenhearted when Cal left. I didn't realize he'd still be in town.”

  “You are correct. No worries at all.” Blaine patted Joan's hand. “With this settled my dear, shall we walk through the outdoor café where you are going to create a positively enchanting garden?”

  “Absolutely.” Joan swallowed the last of Blaine's fresh brew before they headed outside.

  After showing Blaine the plans, he seemed even more impressed with her work. On the walk home, she recalled which designs he liked and which he wanted changed or, “popped-up a notch” as he described it. Working with Blaine had been smooth. Talking to him over coffee had become a ritual that gave her a sense of clarity, like putting missing pieces together.

  Her warm feelings chilled when she thought of Cal as a politician schmoozer. To her, all politicians were notorious liars and cheats, and Sara seemed no better. She wasn't sure she believed Blaine's story about her relying on staff either. Could the beautiful Sara Coach actually be above the norm? Regardless, they both deserved each other and she certainly didn't want either of them to influence Zack. Neither of them could help Zack the way her friends had. He learned dependability from Roz, sociability from Blaine and honesty from Buzz. Just thinking of friends warmed up her cold feelings. Zack would be fine.

  She decided to forget about Sara. If fact, she no longer wanted her involved with the box garden project. She felt more confident than ever that she and Roz would make a plan that city council could not refuse.

  When Joan approached her front porch, she brushed against the rosemary bushes. The heavy scent rel
axed her senses. Smells great. What's that old wives tale? Rosemary wards off evil spirits, she reminisced while rubbing the spiny leaves between her fingers. Waves of snapdragons drifted above the dark green monkey grass lining the sidewalk. Spanish moss hung like webs from the ancient live oak tree that cradled the front porch. This place and time felt like Eden.

  Chapter 5

  “Can you believe it's already May Day?” Joan asked Roz. “Where have the last two weeks gone?”

  “Planting, pruning, the usual for spring,” Roz sighed while clipping a ribbon tied around a petunia cup. “And that's not including these seasonal gifts we're making.”

  To jump start May sales, Lindsey had suggested they make petunia cups; a single serve petunia growing inside a decorated paper cup. Placed near the register, customers could grab them instead of candy bars. Joan bought the idea and set up a temporary assembly line to make them. Joan poured the potting mix into paper cups, Lindsey transplanted the petunia seedlings, and Roz tied the ribbons. Chloe stacked the finished gifts into trays.

  May, she predicted, would be the busiest month for sales. To increase inventory, she had asked local nurseries and artists to supply her with plants and gifts on consignment. Kayhill Farms brought in tubs of crape myrtle, azalea and camellia. Potters delivered vases, fountains and birdbaths that she kept near the nursery in order to keep a close eye on them. But Potters most stunning creation, a fountain of sculptured cranes, was on display near the entrance.

  “And don't forget the power point presentation you're making after hours,” Roz reminded her. Roz had spent hours proofing the slides. Her trained eyes could spot the remotest flaw, like an Osprey on the hunt for food. Proofreading had been grueling, but the presentation was perfect and they still had two days left before the meeting.

  “Any word from Sara?” Roz asked.

  “Nothing, and I'm not worried either. You and I, we get things accomplished.”

  “We do.” Roz picked up a tray of completed petunia cups and lugged them to the register.

  Joan finished filling the last cup with potting soil and glanced at her phone. “I have a half an hour to get to Zack's first game.”

  “At your pace, you could make ten more trays, and still get to the game on time.”

  After they filled the display case with petunia cups, Joan slipped off her apron, dusted her pants and headed for Hanly Park.

  * * *

  From the top of the stands, Joan looked for Zack and found him sitting by himself in the dugout. She waved, but he didn't wave back. Instead, he nodded and returned a limp smile. “He's so tense,” she thought. “but it is his first game.”

  She recalled how diligent he had been getting ready for the first practice. He had set his alarm, laid out his clothes, and put his new baseball glove next to his shoes, all without prodding from her. But after the last few practices, he stopped laying out his clothes and rarely mentioned the word baseball. She wondered if he was nervous about the first game and studied him closer. He wasn't talking to any of his teammates. Instead, he was focused on the game. She tried to recall the last time he had talked about baseball, but before she conjured up an image, she saw Cal climbing the stairs toward her.

  “May I?” He swept the seat beside her with his hand.

  “Of course.” She slide sideways to give him room, even though the bleacher was empty.

  “Big day for them. I'm glad you could make it. These kids like parents watching them at this age. They get to show off.”

  Joan laughed. He was right. Now was the time to enjoy Zack's games. The teenage years would soon be creeping in and he would probably be too embarrassed to have his mom at the games. “How true,” she said. “And by the way, how's practice been?”

  “They've started to merge together, but there are a few loose ends.”

  “Loose ends?”

  “Just minor. They have all improved significantly, but independently. I was hoping for a bit more camaraderie, acting like a team, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do.” Joan heard the crack of a bat hitting a baseball. The ball arched up and landed in the outfield between first and second base. Before the outfielder stopped the ball, the batter safely made it to first base. “You mean they spend more time batting the ball, than throwing the ball to one another?”

  “You got it.” Another crack launched the baseball into the outfield. The batter ran and slid into first base. The previous batter ran from first base all the way to third base.

  “And this is what happens when the don't act as a team.”

  “I see.” Joan shielded her eyes to watch the next batter. This time, when he hit the ball, it rolled. An infielder scooped up the ball and flung it to home plate, killing any chance for the runner on third to score. Next, the catcher whipped the ball to first base before the batter could reach the base. With two outs and no score, the next batter stepped to the plate.

  “Now that's better,” Cal remarked as they watched the batter take a few practice swings. After several attempts, the umpire called strike three. The teams scrambled to change positions.

  “We're up.” Cal smiled as he hoisted himself from the bleacher. “I'm off to the field. Will you be staying until the end of the game?”

  “Planning on it.”

  “Good, when this is over, I hope I could walk you and Zack home. We could have a shaved ice on the way too.”

  “That would be great.”

  “See you in a bit.” Cal waved his baseball cap then clomped down the bleachers.

  As he stepped into the field, she noticed Della Stone sitting next to Sara in the first row of seats. “What are they doing here?” she wondered. “Sara has no children and Stone's daughter, Stephanie, isn't playing ball.” She leaned her back against the metal bleacher, hoping to remain invisible while she watched the two of them.

  They looked like opposing partners, to her. Della resembled a British royal going to tea, dressed in a wide brim hat and a sundress. Sara looked like a baseball mom, dressed in an oversized jersey and baseball cap. She watched them chat, but couldn't hear a word. They seemed at ease. Joan reflected whether this would be a good time to talk with Sara about the upcoming council meeting. Joan shrugged. Sara's brush off still irked her enough that she could wait for a better time to bring up the topic. With no reason to speak to either woman, she sat back to watch the rest of the game, confident that Sara and Della were too engrossed in chatter to look up and notice her.

  Finally, Benny stepped up to bat. The pitcher threw a high ball. Benny took a miserable swing. Joan swallowed, “what was he thinking?” Another pitch, this time low to the ground, fired across the plate. Benny swung and missed again. He stomped away from the plate and pounded the bat on the ground. When the umpire yelled, Benny came back to the plate. The third and final pitch, tore across the plate. Benny swung again, but to late to hit the ball.

  “Strike three,” the umpire yelled.

  Benny flung his bat, pivoted and stormed back to the dugout. At the dugout, Benny shrieked at Zack. Before Zack could stand, Benny lunged and swung his fist, barely missing Zack's head.

  Joan started to walk to the field, then hesitated when she saw Cal break apart the two boys. “Should I help? Will I make Zack look like a sissy?” she debated. She watched Cal scolding the boys until he had the fight clearly under control. Then she headed for the field.

  When she was within earshot, Zack looked up. “How's the first game going for you guys?” Joan hoped a low-key approach would diffuse any shreds of animosity remaining between the two boys. She wasn't going to talk about what just happened unless one of them talked first.

  “Okay.” Zack looked away.

  “It's not fair.” Benny punched his fist into his hand.

  “What's not fair?” Cal asked.

  “I've practiced every day. It's not fair to strike out.”

  Cal leaned toward Benny. “What do you think just happened Benny?”

  “He gets help from you and I don't.” Ben
ny pointed to Zack. “He doesn't even have to practice and he doesn't strike out.”

  Cal placed his hand on Benny's shoulder. “I see, and what do you think will help?”

  Joan watched Zack squirm. “That's right Zack,” she said. “what do you think will help make this game better.”

  “I say we need more practice and help each other.” Zack smiled when he looked at her.

  “Good, you'll only succeed if you act as a team, so do you fellas have a plan?”

  The boys shook their heads up and down in unison. “All right then, back to work both of you.”

  As the boys left the field, Joan noticed Sara walking toward them without Della. “I hope Della left before the fight,” she thought. Her heart sank at the possibility of another parent conference with the principal because of the fiasco. Now, with the situation under control, she hoped Sara wasn't coming over to ask questions or stir up problems that no longer existed.

  Sara smiled at Joan. “Hello, good to see you and Cal too.”

  “Hello.” Joan offered a weak handshake.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Wednesday's council meeting. You and Roz will be there right?

  “Absolutely.”

  “And you still have that exciting presentation?”

  “We do,” Joan shifted her feet.

  “Wonderful, I'm looking forward to your plans being approved. The library staff will love your improvements.”

  “We certainly hope so.” Before Joan could ask her anything else, Sara turned to Cal.

  “Cal, I'm glad I caught you. Della and I need to see you after the game. They've changed the awards ceremony. It's going to be sooner than expected. Does that work for you?”

  “They've changed? When do they need my advice?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “Aye, sounds like this afternoon will have to work.” Cal turned to Joan, his jaw slumped with concern. “So sorry, may I get a rain check?”