“So that’s where your nursery is located?” Daphne was still wrapping her head around this. “On Grandma and Grandpa’s old farm?”
“Yeah. And it’s a great piece of property too.”
“I know.” She nodded. “I always thought it had great potential. But it was too much for my grandparents to keep up. My grandpa didn’t really have any experience with farming. I think he’d owned some kind of business before moving here. But I used to imagine it as a real farm. You know with crops and animals and the works.”
“I think Dee had hoped that someone in your family would want to live there someday. Perhaps even you.”
“But she never told any of us about it.”
“Yeah. I reckon that’s a bit odd. But then she was a character.”
“I’ll say.”
As they got closer to the old farm, Daphne could not believe her eyes. “Look what you’ve done to the place,” she said quietly as he drove under an entrance with the words Garden Guy hanging over it. On either side of the gravel road grew lush-looking rows of green vegetation. And farther on were all kinds of trees and shrubs. There were several large greenhouses situated back by the old barn. And the old barn looked charming with its dark red paint and white trim. “Everything looks so beautiful.”
“Thank you. Did you think it would be ugly?”
“I—uh—well, I just didn’t know. The last time I was out here . . . well, it was so run-down.” She studied the brick house, which looked better than she recalled with what appeared to be a new roof and clean white trim and a shiny black door. The front yard, which used to be just dirt, was nicely landscaped too. Complete with a pond and fountain near the front door. “How do you manage to do all this? By yourself?”
“Oh, I’m not by myself. I have my people.” He nodded to a young man with a wheelbarrow. “See there’s one of my guys there. I’ve got about ten high school kids working for me this summer. And besides that, I’ve got six full-time employees as well and I might hire a couple more. I just hope I can keep them all during the winter. You never know which way the economy is going.”
As she got out of the truck, she was so stunned by the transformation of the previously run-down farm that she felt literally speechless. Simply walking with him and taking it all in, she could only shake her head in wonder. Even though she’d thought this place could’ve been more, she never imagined anything like this. It seemed nothing short of miraculous.
“I wish my dad could see this,” she finally said as he led her over a little wooden footbridge that crossed a corner of a large pond. The surface of the water was filled with blooming water lilies, and large multicolored fish darted about between the cheerfully spouting fountains.
“Bring him out here anytime.”
“I’d love to.”
He took her over to look at some varieties of strawberries now, insisting she sample them and explaining they would soon be sending out runners and he felt her garden should have some. But as usual, she didn’t really know which variety was best.
“Why don’t you just tell me what I want. They all taste sweet to me.”
He laughed. “That’s what I figured you’d say.”
She peered curiously at him. “Why did you really bring me out here?”
“Honestly?”
She nodded. “Tell the truth.”
He grinned. “Probably just to show off?”
She laughed. “Well, you deserve to show off.” She waved her hands. “Just look at this place. It’s amazing. Totally amazing.”
“I was hoping you’d like it. Especially since it had been in your family. Dee liked coming out here from time to time. And I always liked showing her around. It seemed she was part of it, you know. Kind of like a silent partner.”
“Was she really silent?”
“No. You know how your aunt liked to express herself. But when she expressed herself out here, I was glad to listen. She appreciated what I did with the place.”
“I’ll bet she did. So, do you mind if I look in the house?” Daphne asked hopefully.
His cheerful countenance paled. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Please. For old times’ sake?”
“It’s just that it doesn’t match up to what’s out here. It’s been a bit neglected, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t care about that. I just want to see it again. I haven’t been here since I was about six or seven . . . after Grandma died.”
“Well, I don’t usually let customers go inside, but seeing how it was in your family, I reckon it’s all right. Just don’t judge a man by his housekeeping.”
“I won’t.”
“So fine. While you’re snooping around inside, I’ll load up the trees I need to take into town.”
As she walked up to the brick house, Daphne felt like she’d slipped into a time warp. She paused on the porch, standing in front of the front door as she suddenly remembered a time long ago—something she’d all but forgotten. She’d come out here with her mother, and it had been warm and sunny and much like today. She and her mother had gone out to the barn to look at some kittens. Daphne had instantly fallen in love with a tiny black-and-white kitty, begging to take it home. But as she recalled the kittens were still too small to leave the mama cat. However, Daphne had been so shattered to leave the kitten behind that she cried, perhaps she’d even thrown a tantrum. Not long after that day, her mother became sick . . . and they never did get the kitten.
Daphne felt a stab of old childhood guilt as she let herself into the old farmhouse. Why had she acted like such a spoiled brat that day? For all she knew, her poor mother was already getting sick, but too young to understand, Daphne had thrown a selfish fit. Oh, she knew it was irrational to judge the actions of a frustrated five-year-old, but it felt painful to remember it just the same.
Trying to push the uncomfortable memory away, she went through the living room and into the kitchen. Mick hadn’t exaggerated about his lack of housekeeping skills. The place was a mess. Trying to look past muddy boots and discarded items of clothing, she glanced at the kitchen with its cluttered countertops and sink piled high with dirty dishes. She quickly made her way through the house. And resisting the urge to start picking things up and putting it back to order, she hurried outside.
She tried to put both the untidy house and messy memory behind her and distracted herself by going through the gardens and admiring the ponds. Then, noticing that Mick and a couple of his guys had finished loading the small trees, she went over to the truck. But as she got closer, she realized that one of the workers was actually a young woman. And a pretty one too.
Wearing short denim shorts, she was sitting on the tailgate of the truck, kicking a dusty pair of cowboy boots back and forth in what seemed an effort to show off a pair of long tanned legs. Unless it was just Daphne’s imagination. The leggy girl had on a straw cowboy hat and a snug-fitting white T-shirt, and she could’ve easily passed for Daisy Mae’s twin sister if she’d had some fluffy blond hair. But this girl’s hair was jet black, running halfway down her back, in a long sleek braid.
“But I already told the Hammonds that you’d come with me,” she seemed to be making some kind of appeal to Mick. “Please, don’t make me look like a liar.”
“Sorry.” He secured a rope holding the trees snugly against the cab.
“Come on, Mick, you know you want to go.”
“I told you I already have plans for Saturday.” He tied the rope off, tucking the ends in.
“You’re blowing off the Hammonds for stupid old poker.” She made a pout. “You can do that anytime. The Hammonds’ barbecue is only once a year. And I told them I’d bring you again.”
“You should’ve checked with me before accepting the invitation.” Noticing Daphne now, he smiled in her direction an
d politely introduced her to Julianne Preston.
Daphne politely greeted Julianne, making some small talk about the nursery and the weather as she tried to determine her age. Best guess was early twenties, but it was based more on Julianne’s immaturity than her appearance. Daphne supposed she could be anywhere from twenty-five to Daphne’s age, maybe older.
“Mick is being so stubborn,” Julianne told her. “He says he’d rather play dumb old poker with his buddies than go to a really great party with me.”
Not caring to be pulled into the middle, Daphne just shrugged. “I guess he has his reasons.”
“That’s right.” Mick firmly nodded. “I do.”
Julianne stared at Daphne now. “So . . . did you find what you were looking for out here?” But Daphne suspected there was more to this question than a business inquiry.
Mick explained to Julianne that the farm had once been in Daphne’s family. Then he reached over and took her hand. “Now, if you don’t mind removing yourself from my tailgate, we’d like to be on our way.”
Julianne hopped down, dusting off her backside as he slammed the tailgate shut. “See you later, Mickie.” She barely glanced at Daphne. “Nice meeting you, Doreen.”
“Daphne,” Mick said as he opened the door for her.
“Nice meeting you too, Julianne. Have a good day.”
“Julianne’s not usually in such a snit,” Mick explained after he started the pickup. “She can actually be rather charming when she puts her mind to it.”
“Unless you have poker night?”
He chuckled. “Why is it that all women seem to hate poker?”
“Not all women.”
“What?” He looked surprised. “Don’t tell me that the prim and proper Daphne Ballinger is a closeted poker player.”
“No, not actually. But my dad enjoys poker. And he played regularly when I was growing up. Once a month he’d host poker night at our house and I would make all the refreshments. It was fun. I always looked forward to the guys coming over.”
“Your father is a lucky man.” He turned back onto the road. “So tell me the truth, were you shocked and dismayed when you saw how I defiled your grandparents’ home? Are you completely disappointed in my slovenly style of living?”
“Not at all. It’s obvious that you invest all your energy into your business. You spend so much time on your plants and your nursery and other people’s gardens. It’s no wonder your house is a wreck.”
“A wreck?” He pretended offense. “My house is a wreck?”
She laughed. “Yeah, that was putting it mildly.”
“Right. I suppose it’s a bit shoddier than when you saw it last. But if you looked beneath all the piles and clutter, you might’ve noticed that I replaced carpets and floors and a few other things as well.”
“To be honest, I didn’t notice.”
He frowned. “That bad, eh?”
“Why don’t you hire a housekeeper to come out a time or two a week?” She chuckled. “Tell her to bring a shovel and a hazmat suit to start with.”
“Very funny. See what comes of me trying to be nice, letting you into my private domain. The thanks I get.”
“I’m sorry.” She smiled at him. “Thank you for bringing me out to visit. I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
“You mean my dodgy housekeeping?”
“No, I mean your beautiful landscaped gardens. My grandpa would be pleased. I think he had dreams of doing something more with the place, but he was already getting old when they moved there. And he had some health problems. I don’t think he was able to do as much as he hoped. He died when I was really little. After that, it was hard for Grandma to keep it up and she didn’t last much longer anyway.”
“Dee told me she’d been leasing it for all those years after her parents passed. I reckon some of the earlier tenants kept it up some, but the last ones let it get pretty run-down and nasty. Which is why she gave me such a good deal. And I was glad to get land that hadn’t been overly used in recent years. Made it that much easier to get the soil built up again.”
“I’m glad the old farm got into your hands,” she said. “I can tell it’s a happy place now.”
They continued visiting all the way into town, and as he dropped her off at the house, she realized Mick was good company and quite likeable. She wondered why she’d been slightly put off by him when they’d first met. Maybe it was just being caught in her nightie and the way he’d acted like she’d done it on purpose. Or maybe she simply hadn’t given him a fair chance. As she walked back to see the garden, which looked even better now than it had the previous week, she realized that the Garden Guy was worth considering. However, she was curious about his relationship with Julianne. Something about the familiarity in their conversation, the bantering back and forth, and the territorial way Julianne acted—it all raised a flag. She suspected it was Julianne’s subtle warning that she and Mick were more than just coworkers or casual friends. And it bugged Daphne that she cared. Once again, she found herself communicating with Dear Daphne in her head.
Dear Daphne,
There’s a man I find attractive and enjoy spending time with. And unless it’s my imagination, this guy has been flirting with me. However, I just discovered there’s another woman in his life—a very beautiful woman—and she is acting as if this man belongs to her. Should I back off from getting involved with him—or should I just ignore the other woman and go for it?
Anxious in Appleton
As she picked some sprigs of mint, she constructed Dear Daphne’s answer.
Dear Anxious,
Unless this man is engaged or married to this woman or unless he’s given you reason to believe he’s in love with this other woman, I would say that it’s open season. But before you go hunting, you’d better make sure of your own feelings. You don’t want to pursue a man just because you think someone else wants him. Get to know him and determine whether or not he’s someone you want to be in a serious relationship with.
Daphne
Chapter 14
Daphne was surprised at how reluctant she felt while boarding the jet that would take her back to New York. Despite knowing she would only be there a week, just long enough to pack her things and tie up loose ends and say some good-byes, she felt like it was a step backward. To her amazement, everything in her longed to remain in Appleton.
However, as she buckled her seat belt, Daphne reminded herself, she would be visiting tomorrow night with Beverly and Robert. Really, that would be nice. Of course, she had yet to tell Beverly about her plan to relocate, and although she didn’t expect a brokenhearted reaction, she was not looking forward to it. She was also not looking forward to going through her small but tightly packed bedroom and deciding what to do with her accumulation of stuff. Was there really anything she wanted there? Just thinking of it felt overwhelming.
As the plane took off, Daphne tried to remember the pointers Olivia had given her when they’d met at Red River for coffee yesterday. Daphne had confessed her frustration over the idea of returning to the Brooklyn apartment to sort out her life and junk. “I only have a few days to go through twelve years’ worth of accumulation—mostly clothes and junk.”
“The secret to streamlining your closet and home is really simple,” Olivia explained in her usual methodical way.
“How do you know what to keep and what to toss? I pick up an object or piece of clothing and I begin to imagine that I really need it when I know I don’t. And then I can’t get rid of it.” Daphne cringed to think of the storage crates in her room. She didn’t even know what they contained. Did she really want to pay to ship them to Appleton?
“There are three easy-to-remember rules,” Olivia told her.
Of course, Daphne couldn’t even recall one of them now, but then sh
e spied the edge of the coffee company napkin in her purse pocket, remembering that she’d written Olivia’s organizational tips down. She pulled it out and studied the three rules.
1. Is it useful—have I used it in the past year?
2. Is it eye pleasing—do I like how it looks?
3. Does it feel good—is it comfortable?
As she stuffed the napkin back down in her purse, she thought it sounded too easy, but she hoped it would at least be helpful. Looking out the window, she remembered how she’d felt that last time she’d flown—how she’d gotten gloomy by reminiscing about how Ryan broke her heart. Now he seemed like a distant memory. Yet if anyone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be feeling romantic interest in a guy, she would’ve been doubtful. And if someone had told her she’d be feeling interested in several guys, she would never have believed it.
Of course, she suspected that most of the “eligible” bachelors she’d experienced an interest in might not be truly eligible . . . and more likely, they probably wouldn’t be interested in her beyond a business sense. Because really, that was how most of them were connected to her—rather to her deceased aunt. Jake McPheeters had been her aunt’s attorney. Mick Foster had been her aunt’s yard man. Even Willie Troutman had been contracted as her aunt’s painter. That left Ricardo Martoni, but he had been her aunt’s neighbor. And the green grocer Truman Walters, well, he might not have a connection to her aunt . . . but he was rather young.
Even so, it amused her to go over her short list of men as she flew. It was entertaining to imagine what it would feel like to fall in love again and interesting to wonder if any of these five guys might be “the one.” Or was she simply trying too hard? Was she just grasping at every bachelor who crossed her path? How pathetic was that? She didn’t even want to think about what Dear Daphne would tell her.
Daphne’s first night back in the Brooklyn apartment was not so different than previous nights there. She unlocked the door to a quiet apartment where Oliver the cat was still locked in the bathroom. Feeling some feline empathy, probably from the relationship she’d been enjoying with Lucy and Ethel, Daphne opened the door. “Want to come out? Or do you like it in there?”
Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel Page 14