In the Garden Trilogy (44 page)

“Hello?”

“Hi there, is this Stella?”

“Yes, who—”

“This is Trudy Kitridge. Logan’s mama? Logan said I should give you a call, that you’d be home from work about this time of day.”

“I ... oh.” Oh, God, oh, God. Logan’s
mother
?

“Logan told me and his daddy he asked you to marry him. Could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”

“Yes, me, too. Mrs. Kitridge, we haven’t decided ... or I haven’t decided ... anything.”

“Woman’s entitled to some time to make up her mind, isn’t she? I’d better warn you, honey, when that boy sets his mind on something, he’s like a damn bulldog. He said you wanted to meet his family before you said yes or no. I think that’s a sweet thing. Of course, with us living out here now, it’s not so easy, is it? But we’ll be coming back sometime during the holidays. Probably see Logan for Thanksgiving, then our girl for Christmas. Got grandchildren in Charlotte, you know, so we want to be there for Christmas.”

“Of course.” She had no idea, no idea whatsoever what to say. How could she with no time to prepare?

“Then again, Logan tells me you’ve got two little boys. Said they’re both just pistols. So maybe we’ll have ourselves a couple of grandchildren back in Tennessee, too.”

“Oh.” Nothing could have touched her heart more truly. “That’s a lovely thing to say. You haven’t even met them yet, or me, and—”

“Logan has, and I raised my son to know his own mind. He loves you and those boys, then we will, too. You’re working for Rosalind Harper, I hear.”

“Yes. Mrs. Kitridge—”

“Now, you just call me Trudy. How you getting along down there?”

Stella found herself having a twenty-minute conversation with Logan’s mother that left her baffled, amused, touched, and exhausted.

When it was done, she sat limply on the sofa, like, she thought, the dazed victim of an ambush.

Then she heard Logan’s truck rumble up.

She had to force herself not to dash to the door. He’d be expecting that. Instead she settled herself in the front parlor with a gardening magazine and the dog snoozing at her feet as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Maybe she’d mention, oh so casually, that she’d had a conversation with his mother. Maybe she wouldn’t, and let him stew over it.

And all right, it had been sensitive and sweet for him to arrange the phone call, but for God’s
sake
, couldn’t he have given her some warning so she wouldn’t have spent the first five minutes babbling like an idiot?

The kids came in with all the elegance of an army battalion on a forced march.

“We built a
whole
arbor.” Grimy with sweat and dirt, Gavin rushed to scoop up Parker. “And we planted the stuff to grow on it.”

“Carol Jessmint.”

Carolina Jessamine, Stella interpreted from Luke’s garbled pronunciation. Nice choice.

“And I got a splinter.” Luke held out a dirty hand to show off the Band-Aid on his index finger. “A
big
one. We thought we might have to hack it out with a
knife.
But we didn’t.”

“Whew, that was close. We’ll go put some antiseptic on it.”

“Logan did already. And I didn’t cry. And we had submarines, except he says they’re poor boys down here, but I don’t see why they’re poor because they have
lots
of stuff in them. And we had Popsicles.”

“And we got to ride in the wheelbarrow,” Gavin took over the play-by-play. “And I used a real hammer.”

“Wow. You had a busy day. Isn’t Logan coming in?”

“No, he said he had other stuff. And look.” Gavin dug in his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled five-dollar bill. “We each got one, because he said we worked so good we get to be cheap labor instead of slaves.”

She couldn’t help it, she had to laugh. “That’s quite a promotion. Congratulations. I guess we’d better go clean up.”

“Then we can eat like a bunch of barnyard pigs.” Luke put his hand in hers. “That’s what Logan said when it was time for lunch.”

“Maybe we’ll save the pig-eating for when you’re on the job.”

They were full of Logan and their day through bath-time, through dinner. And then were too tuckered out from it all to take advantage of the extra hour she generally allowed them on Saturday nights.

They were sound asleep by nine, and for the first time in her memory, Stella felt she had nothing to do. She tried to read, she tried to work, but couldn’t settle into either.

She was thrilled when she heard Lily fussing.

When she stepped into the hall, she saw Hayley heading down, trying to comfort a squalling Lily. “She’s hungry. I thought I’d curl up in the sitting room, maybe watch some TV while I feed her.”

“Mind company?”

“Twist my arm. It was lonely around here today with David off at the lake for the weekend, and you and Roz at work, the boys away.” She sat, opened her shirt and settled Lily on her breast. “There. That’s better, isn’t it? I put her in that baby sling I got at the shower, and we took a nice walk.”

“It’s good for both of you. What did you want to watch?”

“Nothing, really. I just wanted the voices.”

“How about one more?” Roz slipped in, walked over to Lily to smile. “I wanted to take a peek at her. Look at her go!”

“Nothing wrong with her appetite,” Hayley confirmed. “She smiled at me today. I know they say it’s just gas, but—”

“What do they know?” Roz sprawled in a chair. “They inside that baby’s head?”

“Logan asked me to marry him.”

She didn’t know why she blurted it out—hadn’t known it was pushing from her brain to her tongue.

“Holy cow!” Hayley exploded, then immediately soothed Lily and lowered her voice. “When? How? Where? This is just awesome. This is the biggest of the big news. Tell us everything.”

“There’s not a lot of every anything. He asked me yesterday.”

“After I went inside to put the baby down? I just knew something was up.”

“I don’t think he meant to. I think it just sort of happened, then he was irritated when I tried to point out the very rational reasons we shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“What are they?” Hayley wondered.

“You’ve only known each other since January,” Roz began, watching Stella. “You have two children. You’ve each been married before and bring a certain amount of baggage from those marriages.”

“Yes.” Stella let out a long sigh. “Exactly.”

“When you know you know, don’t you?” Hayley argued. “Whether it’s five months or five years. And he’s great with your kids. They’re nuts about him. Being married before ought to make both of you understand the pitfalls or whatever. I don’t get it. You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. And yes to the rest, to a point, but ... it’s different when you’re young and unencumbered. You can take more chances. Well, if you’re not me you can take more chances. And what if he wants children and I don’t? I have to think about that. I have to know if I’m going to be able to consider having another child at this stage, or if the children I do have would be happy and secure with him in the long term. Kevin and I had a game plan.”

“And your game was called,” Roz said. “It isn’t an easy thing to walk into another marriage. I waited a long time to do it, then it was the wrong decision. But I think, if I could have fallen, just tumbled into love with a man at your age, one who made me happy, who cheerfully spent his Saturday with my children, and who excited me in bed, I’d have walked into it, and gladly.”

“But you just said, before, you gave the exact reasons why it’s too soon.”

“No, I gave the reasons you’d give—and ones I understand, Stella. But there’s something else you and I understand, or should. And that is that love is precious, and too often stolen away. You’ve got a chance to grab hold of it again. And I say lucky you.”

 

SHE DREAMED AGAIN OF THE GARDEN, AND THE BLUE dahlia. It was ladened with buds, fat and ripe and ready to burst into bloom. At the top, a single stunning flower swayed electric in the quiet breeze. Her garden, though no longer tidy and ordered, spread out from its feet in waves and flows and charming bumps of color and shape.

Then Logan was beside her, and his hands were warm and rough as he drew her close. His mouth was strong and exciting as it feasted on hers. In the distance she could hear her children’s laughter, and the cheerful bark of the dog.

She lay on the green grass at the garden’s edge, her senses full of the color and scent, full of the man.

There was such heat, such pleasure as they loved in the sunlight. She felt the shape of his face with her hands. Not fairy-tale handsome, not perfect, but beloved. Her skin shivered as their bodies moved, flesh against flesh, hard against soft, curve against angle.

How could they fit, how could they make such a glorious whole, when there were so many differences?

But her body merged with his, joined, and thrived.

She lay in the sunlight with him, on the green grass at the edge of her garden, and hearing the thunder of her own heartbeat, knew bliss.

The buds on the dahlia burst open. There were so many of them. Too many. Other plants were being shaded, crowded. The garden was a jumble now, anyone could see it. The blue dahlia was too aggressive and prolific.

But before she could answer Logan, there was another voice, cold and hard in her mind.

No, it wasn’t her plan. Of course it wasn’t. This garden was meant to be a charming spot, a quiet spot.

There was a spade in her hand, and she began to dig.

The air was cold now, cold as winter, so that Stella shuddered as she plunged the spade into the ground.

Logan was gone, and she was alone in the garden with the Harper Bride, who stood in her white gown and tangled hair, nodding. And her eyes were mad.

“I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to give it up.”

She’d get it out. It was best to get it out. She’d just plant it somewhere else, she thought, somewhere better.

But as she lifted it out, taking care with the roots, the flowers went black, and the blue dahlia withered and went to dust in her hands.

 

KEEPING BUSY WAS THE BEST WAY NOT TO BROOD. And keeping busy was no problem for Stella with the school year winding down, the perennial sale at the nursery about to begin, and her best saleswoman on maternity leave.

She didn’t have time to pick apart strange, disturbing dreams or worry about a man who proposed one minute, then vanished the next. She had a business to run, a family to tend, a ghost to identify.

She sold the last three bay laurels, then put her mind and her back into reordering the shrub area.

“Shouldn’t you be pushing papers instead of camellias?”

She straightened, knowing very well she’d worked up a sweat, that there was soil on her pants, and that her hair was frizzing out of the ball cap she’d stuck on. And faced Logan.

“I manage, and part of managing is making sure our stock is properly displayed. What do you want?”

“Got a new job worked up.” He waved the paperwork, and the breeze from it made her want to moan out loud. “I’m in for supplies.”

“Fine. You can put the paperwork on my desk.”

“This is as far as I’m going.” He shoved it into her hand. “Crew’s loading up some of it now. I’m going to take that Japanese red maple, and five of the hardy pink oleanders.”

He dragged the flatbed over and started to load.

“Fine,” she repeated, under her breath. Annoyed, she glanced at the bid, blinked, then reread the client information.

“This is my father.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you doing planting oleander for my father?”

“My job. Putting in a new patio, too. Your stepmama’s already talking about getting new furniture for out there. And a fountain. Seems to me a woman can’t see a flat surface without wanting to buy something to put on it. They were still talking about it when I left the other night.”

“You—what were
you
doing there?”

“Having pie. Gotta get on. We need to get started on this if I’m going to make it home and clean up before this dinner with the professor guy tonight. See you later, Red.”

“Hold it. You just hold it. You had your mother call me, right out of the blue.”

“How’s it out of the blue when you said you wanted us to meet each other’s families? Mine’s a couple thousand miles away right now, so the phone call seemed the best way.”

“I’d just like you to explain ...” Now she waved the papers. “All this.”

“I know. You’re a demon for explanations.” He stopped long enough to grab her hair, crush his mouth to hers. “If that doesn’t make it clear enough, I’m doing something wrong. Later.”

 

“THEN HE JUST WALKED AWAY, LEAVING ME STANDING there like an idiot.” Still stewing hours later, Stella changed Lily’s diaper while Hayley finished dressing for dinner.

“You said you thought you should meet each other’s families and stuff,” Hayley pointed out. “So now you talked to his mama, and he talked to your daddy.”

“I know what I said, but he just went tromping over there. And he had her call me without letting me know first. He just goes off, at the drop of a hat.” She picked up Lily, cuddled her. “He gets me stirred up.”

“I kinda miss getting stirred up that way.” She turned sideways in the mirror, sighed a little over the post-birth pudge she was carrying. “I guess I thought, even though the books said different, that everything would just spring back where it was after Lily came out.”