Garden of Dreams (15 page)

Nina appeared wearing a floppy-brimmed sun hat and carrying a rope tote bag like the ones JD had seen women use in Europe. With the long flowing flower-printed dress, she looked as if she'd stepped out of some television special on English gardening.

“Is the Piggly Wiggly a formal affair?” he inquired in amusement. “Shall I wear a tie?”

Her exasperated look made her cheeks rounder and her mouth pucker into a perfect shape for kissing. “Do you even own a tie?” She swept down the hall and out the door without waiting for a reply.

JD trailed after her, admiring the slender posterior view she afforded him. If he couldn't solve the snag, he might as well let his brain sleep while his libido took over.

Hobbling less now, he accepted the passenger seat she left him in the rolling wreck she called a car. There was something to be said for the planned obsolescence of American cars. At least their engines fell apart before they looked like traveling junkyards.

“I keep thinking I'll get a new paint job for this thing,” Nina said as if she'd heard his thoughts. Turning the ignition, she continued, “The vo-tech classes paint cars for just the cost of materials. But I haven't figured out how to travel back and forth to work while they're working on it. They tend to be slow.”

“Maybe you should just retire it. You'll be putting your feet through the floorboard and pedaling before long.”

“Do you have any idea how much a new car costs? And what I might afford couldn't be anywhere as well made as this one. The rubber bumpers have saved me a fortune in repair bills.”

JD grinned and refrained from commenting on people who drove bumper cars. His Uncle Harry had sold him out to the banking equivalent of the Mafia. His partner had fallen off the face of the earth. The program he'd worked on for the last three years of his life had run aground. He had a broken foot, no vehicle, and a son he'd never known existed. And he was sitting here grinning like a fool in a bumper car beside a spike- haired wood sprite. Obviously, his brain had checked out entirely.

When she pulled off the main road he knew as the one toward town, JD gave her an inquiring look.

Again, she read his mind easily. “I'm stopping at Tom's place for fresh produce. Howard always trucks his in from Georgia, and it's never as good as homegrown.” She maneuvered the car down a dirt drive. “It's too early for my tomatoes, but Tom has a greenhouse. I have leaf lettuce, but Tom usually has spinach. And his wife is experimenting with mushrooms. It never occurs to Howard to stock mushrooms.”

Not having the slightest idea who the hell Tom and Howard were, JD nodded agreeably, then grimaced as the car hit a pothole. “I thought you didn't cook. Why bother with fresh vegetables if you don't cook?”

“Who cooks them? I just throw them in a bowl and make a salad. Of course, when the corn comes in, I'll cook that. Fresh sweet corn is worth a few minutes of boiling water.”

JD tried to remember the last time he'd had fresh sweet corn and couldn't. If it didn't come in frozen packages or served by a waiter at a restaurant, he generally didn't eat it. Maybe backwoods life had a few advantages.

After a convoluted discussion with Tom's wife involving tomato varieties and the uses of mushrooms, Nina finally filled her rope bag and returned to the car. JD had listened idly while munching a tomato in its raw, freshly picked state. Aside from wishing for some salt, he had spent most of the time admiring the way his landlady's fair cheeks pinkened with the sun. The reason for the hat had become readily apparent.

“You should wear sunscreen,” he admonished as he lifted his foot into the car and tried wiggling his toes. He didn't have any problem letting the lady drive, particularly in a heap like this one.

“I was only out a few minutes. Besides, I forget. Sunscreen is for the beach.”

As they jolted from the dirt drive to the paved road, JD caught a glimpse of shining silver through the undergrowth, and he strained to catch a better view of the vehicle. “Who's the local driving a Mercedes? Now that's the kind of car to have. One-eighty on the autobahn, you could cover a lot of miles in that.”

Nina glanced in her rearview mirror with a frown. “No one around here drives a Mercedes. The nearest dealer is probably two hundred miles away, even if anybody could afford one, which they can't. Even Dr. Rogers takes half his work on credit and can't afford better than a used Cadillac. Cadillacs are the only fancy cars we can get serviced.”

JD watched the silver vehicle drop farther behind them. “Well, then, you have some wealthy tourists. That: particular make could set you back a hundred grand, new.”

Nina laughed. ‘The tourists we get drive pickup trucks and campers. Can you imagine a Mercedes owner camping out? This isn't exactly resort country.”

“They must have tired of the interstate then and taken a more scenic route.” JD repositioned himself so he could continue admiring flushed cheeks and bow lips. Contemplating kissing them kept him fully occupied.

“Then they're lost,” Nina concluded. “This road goes nowhere, unless they turn on the state road at the junction.”

JD acknowledged a vague uneasiness, but he wouldn't let it intrude on his pleasant contemplation of his hostess.

They bumped back on the state road and turned toward town. Nina checked the mirror again and verified the Mercedes still followed. “That should provide some entertainment when we reach town. Reckon Howard could go out and lie across the road to make the guy stop and spend some of his money?”

“Not knowing Howard, I couldn't venture to say, but you could always have Sheriff Hoyt flag him down if it's entertainment you want.”

Nina grinned. “Got your hackles up, did he? Hoyt's like that. I think they teach it to them at sheriff's school.”

They arrived in the tiny town of Madrid in broad daylight, so he got a good look at it. One strong wind could wipe the crumbling old brick storefronts away.

At least the Piggly Wiggly owner kept his windows clean, JD observed as he hobbled from the car. He could remember places as a kid that had a season's worth of flyspecks and dead insects on the panes. In that light, the town of Madrid reflected creditably. No junk cars—if he didn't count Nina's—littered the yards. Neat flower boxes lined many of the storefronts. And there were trees everywhere, even in the middle of parking lots.

Nina interrupted his reverie by touching his arm as they entered the store. “Don't look now, but the Mercedes stopped in front of the pharmacy. They must be asking for directions.”

“Then the damned fools must not have a map. There's a road sign right in front of them.” Not having any sympathy for idiots, wealthy or not, JD wandered toward the produce section. Nina was right. The tomatoes in here were a pitiful sight. And the strawberries had seen better days.

“Maybe we could take him home with us,” Nina said cheerfully, picking through the baking potatoes. “Just tell the driver to follow us and we'll get him out of here. Then we show them Hattie's Hill and explain what a wonderful garden it would make, and he could throw a hundred grand away on something useful.”

“Not damn likely. He'd probably sue for mental anguish or something. You're better off leaving those types out of it. Where are the Chinese vegetables? I can make stir-fry.”

Nina grinned even more brightly. “Howard thinks Chinese vegetables grow in China. They don't come from Georgia, anyway. Here he comes now. Ask him for the water chestnuts.”

A pudgy, slightly balding man bumbled toward them, his tie loosened at the neck and the top button of his white shirt open. “Nina, I heard you've got a millionaire planning some kind of resort out your way! What in the world is that boy talking about?” He gave JD a suspicious but not unfriendly look.

“If you're looking for millionaires, go check out the Mercedes down at Ed's. I don't know any. What boy are you talking about?” Nina tied up the bag of potatoes and pushed the basket down the aisle, forcing Howard to bumble after them. JD liked the way she put men in their places without even trying.

“Ethel's nephew. He just came up from the marina, said he'd been talking to Laddie Hancock.” Howard sent JD a look of recognition. “You must be that guy renting Nina's place.” He stuck his hand out. “Howard Hughes, no relation.”

“JD Smith.” He shook the man's hand and watched hope and a twinge of greed leap to Howard's eyes. No way would he admit to being the millionaire. “Have you got water chestnuts?”

Nina giggled as Howard's eagerness melted into chagrin.

“No, sir, no water chestnuts at the moment. The shipment is late. I'm calling the transport company.” Desperately, Howard turned back to Nina. “Well, what is the boy talking about? Where there's smoke, there's fire. Something must be going on.”

“Nothing more than usual, Howard. You know Hattie always wanted a garden out there. I'm just looking into it, is all. How's the meat grinder?”

JD blinked at this abrupt change of subject. He'd thought Nina would be bubbling over with news of the garden. Her taciturnity puzzled him, but he didn't live here.

“It broke down, just like you said. I've got a new one coming in tomorrow. Now if you would just tell me about those refrigeration units...”

Nina pushed the basket down the aisle. “I don't know anything about refrigeration units, Howard. Just use your own good sense. I'm in kind of a hurry here. Does the broken grinder mean I can't get fresh hamburger?”

JD gave up on this impossible conversation. Wandering off, he looked for his favorite cereal and settled for corn flakes. The ice cream was soft, and he didn't recognize any of the brand names, but he made sure he picked up chocolate. He owed Nina that.

Prowling up and down the aisles, he understood Nina's remark about this being an experience. The place didn't stock two brands when one would do. And obviously Mueslix and water chestnuts hadn't reached this part of the country yet.

But he had an armful when he caught up with Nina at the checkout counter. Managing the cane and the basket hampered him, his foot ached like hell, but he still knew his way around grocery stores.

The clerk at the checkout counter was busily interrogating Nina about the proposed “resort.” JD could sense Nina's temper rising simply from the compressed line of her lips. Hastily pulling out his wallet, he counted bills on the counter.

“I thought you couldn't find your wallet,” she hissed as she pushed the basket of sacks out to the car.

JD took her keys and opened the hatchback. “I explained that. I'm not harming anyone. Why didn't you tell those people about the garden?” he countered.

“And have them all getting their hopes up only to fall flat on their faces when nothing comes of it? I'd be a pariah. No, thank you.”

JD shut the trunk and, now that he had possession of the keys, headed for the driver's side of the car. “Is that a slam to my abilities or your own?” he asked angrily as he slid into the seat.

To Nina's credit, she didn't argue with him over driving privileges. She just slammed the door on her side so hard he thought the car would tumble off its frame “The rumors are already starting, and we haven't put plans to paper,” she declared furiously as he started the engine. “There's not one penny of money or anything more constructive done than chopping a few weeds. I've seen it too often, and I'll not be a party to it. I don't know what you're here for, JD Who- ever-you-are, but I'll not let my friends and neighbors down like that.”

He didn't have the foggiest notion what she was talking about, but he quit concentrating on her tirade as soon as he pulled the Camry away from the curb. The Mercedes sitting at the pharmacy had just started its engine, also, and he didn't think taking it home with them was such a hot idea.

“This isn't the way home,” Nina reminded JD as he roared the Camry out of town as if it were his motorcycle. Or roared as much as four cylinders could, she amended.

JD looked like he belonged on a motorcycle, wheeling from one beer joint and pool hall to another. But as far as her limited knowledge could determine, he did seem to know his way around computers—to the extent that he carried them with him on vacation. He had manipulated a busy landscape architect into drawing up plans without producing a penny of money, and he spoke intelligently of the creative arts. The man cooked stir-fry, for heaven's sake! Maybe he came from outer space.

Maybe he was taking her back there with him. Watching his direction with alarm, Nina intruded on JD's obviously black humor. “We have ice cream, remember!”

His square jaw hardened as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Where does this road go?”

“If you stay on it, you'll end up crossing the lake,” Nina informed him. “Unless you've taken a notion to go hiking or swimming, there's nothing over there but wilderness.”

“Not a half-bad idea, but under the circumstances, probably not the best one. What about boat rentals?”

Thoroughly puzzled now, Nina glanced over her shoulder to see what he was watching in the mirror. Far in the distance, she could see the sun glint off shiny metal. The Mercedes? “Boat rentals?” she inquired. “What about them?”