On Hummingbird Wings

by Lauraine Snelling

  She collapsed in a chair at the table. Was she just slow or was the cash register out to get her?

  That afternoon she had a lesson on sales etiquette, one on phone procedures, and spent an hour observing an older woman, named Marge, who ran the monster machine with perfect finesse. She turned to Gillian when there was a lull. “I have a feeling that my first day and yours are much the same. I was terrified of this thing.” She patted the cash register affectionately. “Jumbo here just likes to test you, but once you become friends, he’s loyal to the max.”

  “You mean that machine, right?”

  “I do. Here, you practice and I’ll coach you.” Marge set several pots on the checkout table. “Have at it. Remember, you have to push the button on the wand to make it read.”

  Gillian nodded and scanned in the prices, hit the subtotal, and smiled at Marge. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No, thank you. But don’t hit the total, we’ll cancel this out.” She came back around the counter and hit the CANCEL button. She patted the tan monster. “Good job.”

  “Thanks, that helped.”

  “Life got a lot easier here when they installed the new system with bar codes.”

  “You worked here long?”

  “Ten years with Bentley’s. I started out at the Martinez store.” She smiled at Gillian. “They’re a great company to work for, more like family.” She turned to wait on another customer. “Here comes John.”

  “I have a bunch of paperwork ready for you to fill out in the office,” John said.

  “Okay.” When she signed the last form, she looked up. “Anything else?”

  “What size shirt do you wear?”

  “Ah, a medium.”

  “Okay, I’ll get three of those for you and an apron. You need to wear blue jeans or khakis, sturdy shoes, and a smile. You already have that last part down well.” His grin let her know he was teasing. So far, this new job seemed to be working out.

  “You want to go walking?”

  Gillian stared at the man through bleary eyes. “I walked fifty miles today, why would I want to go again?” Monday eve. Day one on the job. Results: her feet hurt, her back hurt, her legs hurt, and she figured she could sleep for a week. And here she thought she was in good shape. In spite of all her walking in NYC, there was a big difference between padded chairs, carpeted floors, a fine desk, an assistant getting her coffee, phone conversations, and working on a computer versus concrete floors, hefting plants, trying to learn where things were, and a cash register named Jumbo. Gremlins inhabited the ugly machine and leaped at her throat every time she drew near.

  Of course some of the stiffness was from two solid days of heavy-duty gardening, as Adam had warned her.

  “You want me to bring dinner?”

  No, I want you to forget I exist until at least Wednesday—or Friday. “No, thanks, I have plenty to eat in the fridge.” She tried to open the SUV door, but her hand cramped. Stifling a yelp, she pushed again only to look up and see him opening her door.

  “Do I need to carry you into the house?”

  The glint in his eyes made her smile. A fake smile for sure but the most she could manage. “No thank you.” I will walk if I have blisters an inch deep. While she knew she did not really have blisters, her feet could light a fire.

  “You might consider a hot bath.”

  “Right after I feed the dog.” Even though Mrs. Gonzales had come over and let Winnie outside, the little dog had to hold her bladder a long time. Good thing she’d thought in advance. She knew that riding with Adam would mean a long day, she just hadn’t computed how long.

  “Do you have sturdier shoes you could wear tomorrow?”

  She looked down at her poor feet. Her Keds looked good, matched her khaki pants, and were usually comfortable. “I have walking shoes that will be better.” With more support and a far thicker sole, along with more inner padding, she used them to walk to and from the subway and to the office building at home. Walking was always easier than standing.

  He leaned over and caught her chin with one finger, looking into her eyes. “It will get easier, I promise.” His gaze dropped to her lips, but instead of kissing her, he stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “You want to bet? I’m not a quitter.” Gillian, you talk a sound talk, but can you walk it? Nasty word—walk. “Same time in the morning?”

  He nodded.

  Later Winnie sat on the rug by the tub and studied Gillian. Head cocked to one side, she did a little whimper and laid down.

  “That’s a good dog. I’m not used to having supervision in my bath, you know.” Gillian adjusted the rolled-up towel she had behind her neck and turned on the hot water faucet with her toes. She’d have to let some of the cooling water out pretty soon if she added much more.

  When her chin sank into the water, she jerked upright and pushed up the lever to let the water out. Drowning in the bathtub would not help. Of course then she wouldn’t ache anymore, either. Rising to her feet, she wrapped one of the bath towels around her body and stepped from the tub. Once dried, lotioned, and in her pajamas, she let the dog out and in, drank a glass of water with two pain pills, and fell into bed.

  “You might not be a quitter, but not starting this could have been the smarter part of the equation.”

  Winnie snuggled closer to her side, offering doggie comfort.

  By Wednesday she could tell her body was adjusting, still only a faint glimmer but improvement. The cash register had become her friend, and she’d even managed to increase a sale or two by suggesting something in addition.

  “Will there be anything else?” she asked the woman waiting for her total. Having Adam standing off to the side made her fingers fumble on the keys.

  “No, I don’t think so, not today. But will you have more of those planted pumpkins tomorrow?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Those are all finished.”

  “Shame, they would make a nice arrangement for Thanksgiving, too.” She dug in her bag for her money. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. Your total is twenty-six seventy-nine. Would you like some help out with that?”

  The woman counted out the exact change, making the folks behind her in line audibly sigh. “Thank you so much, yes, I would.”

  “I’ll take care of that, ma’am.” Adam came around the counter and took over the woman’s shopping cart.

  Gillian checked out two more customers, one taking an extra bag of fertilizer they had on sale, before Adam returned.

  “Thank you for being so gracious with that old lady,” he murmured from behind her. “She’s a faithful customer. I think she comes in sometimes just to have someone talk with her.”

  “Do you have her address?”

  “I’m sure we do, why?”

  “I just thought I’d drop her a card.” She turned to the man who’d just walked up carrying a potted azalea. “Did you find everything you wanted?” Adam headed for his office, talking with John on the way.

  “I need a plant for my mother’s birthday. How long will this bloom?”

  “You know, I’m new here and I have no idea, but I will find out.” She crossed the few steps to Adam’s office and stuck her head in the door. “How long will an azalea bloom?”

  “Inside or out?”

  “Inside, I think. It’s a birthday present.”

  “Several weeks if it’s not too hot in the room. Not in direct sunlight. Easy on the watering.”

  “Got it.” She returned and told the customer all she’d learned. “Would you like some foil around that pot, or, we have some really attractive pots over there on the shelf. We can put a ribbon with the foil.”

  “Oh, good.” He handed her the plant. “Foil please.”

  “If you’d like to look around a bit while we take care of this, you are welcome to do so.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gillian took the pot over to the wrapping bench. No one had showed her th
is side of the business.

  John joined her. “You need some help here?”

  “I do. While I’ve gotten potted plants, I’ve not fancied them up.” She glanced over at the cash register, where there was no line for a change.

  “Here, let me show you.” John pulled a square of foil from the slot in a drawer under the table, a ribbon with bow from the wire overhead, and within seconds had it wrapped, fully disguising the pot. He turned and handed it to her, then smiled. “I’ll do it again slowly if you want later when we have a lull.”

  “Thanks.” She took the pot back, studying how he did that as she went. Silver foil with a pink bow to match the buds. Would there be a charge for this? And John had removed the price before wrapping the pot in foil.

  She turned and caught John’s attention. When he got to the counter she asked her questions.

  “No extra charge and we are still cheaper than a florist. The eight inch pots are seven ninety-five.” He pulled out a sheet of paper with figures on it. “Here’s a cheat sheet. Get to know the size of the pots and you’ll find the info here.”

  “I sure have a lot to learn.”

  “You already do the most important thing well.” He smiled at her questioning eyebrows. “You charm the customers.”

  “Thanks.” Compliments seemed more important than usual to her. Could be because she felt so unsure at what she was doing. When the promised lull came after lunch break, she joined John at the gift-wrapping bench. He showed her where the supplies were kept, demonstrated several wrapping techniques, and identified pot sizes. He left her doing several on her own to make sure she was comfortable. After all, she told herself, this isn’t rocket scientist stuff.

  She had Thursday off and worked a half day on Friday and all of Saturday. After work, she cleaned up the master bedroom and put the new furnishings in place. When she finished on Saturday night, she stood in the doorway and studied the room, seeking anything more that needed doing. The painting of a garden her mother had hanging on the wall didn’t really do much for the new décor, but buying artwork for someone else was tricky.

  When the doorbell rang, she invited Adam and Thor inside. “I have to show you.” She led the way down the hall and stopped just inside the doorway. “What do you think?”

  Adam stared around, nodding and smiling. “Is that a new chair?”

  “Nope, slip-covered the old. New nightstands though so they’d match, and lamps.” She straightened a corner of the new comforter. “You think she’ll like it?”

  “She’d be crazy not to. You’ve done a good job.”

  “Thanks.” As they left the room, she trailed her hand along the wall. “The fresh paint in there makes this hallway look even more needy. I thought of having Madison give me an estimate for more, but Mother might have a fit.”

  “If she notices. Remember they will still be newlyweds, and usually the newly married don’t notice much but each other.”

  “You really don’t think it will be like that, do you?”

  He shrugged. “You up to a walk?”

  “Yes, Winnie reminded me that she is missing her walks.”

  “How did she do that?”

  “Tried to pull her leash off the hook.”

  Halfway down the hill, he took her hand and smiled down at her. “Feels better this way.”

  “Just don’t take off running then. I can handle walking.” Mostly. She still stiffened up every time she sat down.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  I have something I want to read to you.” Gillian tried not to chuckle as she cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear.

  “Read away.” Adam replied.

  Dear Gillian and Allie,

  We are having a wonderful time on our cruise. The scenery has been beautiful and the people where we’ve stopped friendly and charming. We have learned of another cruise that leaves Miami the day after we dock, our same ship actually, going to the Caribbean for ten days. We decided to take it but will still be home before Thanksgiving. We’ll call you from Miami. Hope you and Winnie are getting along.

  Love, Dorothy and Enzio

  “Well, I’ll be…” His voice wore a matching chuckle. “Have you heard from Allie?”

  “No, but she probably hasn’t gone online yet. Good thing Winnie and I are hitting it off so well. Looks like we’ll be housemates for a while.” She heard a click on the phone. “That’s probably Allie. I’ll call you back later.” Gillian pushed the button to transfer the calls.

  “Did you read the e-mail yet?” Allie’s voice rose with each word.

  “Yes, I’m glad they’re having such a good time, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but…I really miss Mother. She’s never been gone like this.” Now she sounded more like the little girl lost.

  Not having lived nearby, Gillian tried to understand. Her years of distance made it much easier. “She has to be feeling good again; I think this cruise and the marriage are the best things that have happened to her in a long time.” She didn’t add the forever, but she thought it loud. “I know you want her to be happy.”

  “I do and I’m so grateful she isn’t dying after all.” She heaved a sigh. “Guess I just don’t like change a whole lot.”

  “Most people don’t. How about we plan a really great Thanksgiving? I was thinking we could invite all the Bentleys, too.”

  “That’s a lot of people for that house. We usually invite Jefferson’s folks, too. Why don’t we just have it here?”

  “Fine by me. I’ll help cook, and everyone can bring something.” Gillian thought of the times her flat had been full of people, a big Thanksgiving potluck with people sitting on the floor when necessary. “The more people the merrier.” She could tell that Allie wasn’t overly excited about all the people coming but decided not to mention it. “We’ll have a wonderful time, you wait and see.”

  After they hung up, Gillian got ready for bed and called Adam back after she and Winnie were all snuggled in.

  “So, how did it go?”

  “All the Bentleys are invited to join us for Thanksgiving at Allie’s house. We’re making it potluck sort of, everyone bringing something.”

  “Good, I’ll bring the turkey, we have a deep fryer. Best turkey you’ll ever taste. Perhaps I can bring the stuff and come early to cook it there.”

  “You want me to ask Jen?”

  “That would be good. Dad always makes Mom’s relish recipe, so we’ll bring that, too.” He paused. “I’m really glad things are going better between the two of you.”

  “Me, too. I wasn’t counting on much there at first.”

  “You know, fear does strange things to people sometimes.”

  “True.”

  The next morning, Gillian joined the Bentleys for church again. After breakfast at a western-themed café on Contra Costra Boulevard, Adam asked, “You two want to go for a drive into The City and out to the beach?”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather putter with my plants.” Bill’s eyes twinkled, remarkably like his son’s.

  “Sounds wonderful. So many years since I’ve been there. But I’ll need to change clothes first if we’re walking on the beach. Are we taking the dogs?”

  “Nope, I hate leaving Thor in the car if we stop for dinner.” Adam signed the receipt. “I won’t mention the beach, or he’ll be crushed.”

  Sailboats dotted San Francisco Bay as they drove over the Bay Bridge and down along the waterfront. Adam pointed out the changes along the way—so many new buildings, the ferry terminal. He explained about the collapse of the Cyprus expressway in the ’89 earthquake as they passed Pier 39 and climbed up the hill past Fort Mason. They walked along the beach side of Crissey Field, watching the myriad kites, many of them two-handed or even two-person ones. The Golden Gate Bridge guarded the entrance to the bay. They drove through parts of the Presidio, which was no longer a military base, and down onto Highway 1 along the beach. They even found a parking place facing the ocean.

  “Ah, what a treat,” Gil
lian said as they walked down the concrete stairs to the sand. “This is so different from the Atlantic, all the breakers. Have you seen the Atlantic?”

  “Yes, I kept looking for the ocean, thinking those smooth waters must be all bay. Long Island was not what I had imagined.” He tucked their clasped hands in the pocket of his Windbreaker, pointing toward the north with his other. “See that tanker coming out from the bay? We saw it before near Alcatraz Island.”

  “Have you ever sailed under the Golden Gate?”

  “A couple of times, but my little twenty-two footer seems mighty small when you get out on the ocean swells.”

  “I even got sick on a cruise ship, when the seas kicked up. Miserable.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” They turned and headed south, enjoying the sun on their faces, the children playing in the edges of the waves, seagulls floating and screaming overhead. Two dogs ran past them barking and nipping at the foam. The hard-packed beach held no driftwood, no rocks—all flat sand sending the rollers back out to sea.

  The wind picked up as the sun slanted toward the west.

  “I’m getting hungry, what about you?”

  “Salt air always makes me hungry.” Gillian smiled up at him.

  “I thought about eating over there.” Adam pointed to a rock building across the highway. “They say the seafood is good.”

  “Fine with me.”

  They waited in the lounge until a table was ready, and then they were seated at a western-facing window. The fog bank that had hovered on the horizon had crept closer, so the anticipated sunset was more sun disappearing. The wispy clouds above turned vermilion and shades of rose and pink in spite of the low fog.

  Gillian sighed. “So beautiful. What a treat to really see a sunset.”

  “Too many tall buildings in New York?”

  “Sunrise is light showing up on the building across the way.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “The sunrise?”

  “No, New York.” He picked up her hand and slid his fingers through hers so they were palm to palm, watching her face all the while.