Leota's Garden (29 page)

A familiar black car was parked in Leota’s driveway when Annie drove up the hill. What on earth was Corban Solsek doing here on a Sunday? He came down the front steps and waited on the sidewalk as Annie parked in front of the house.

“Hi, Corban,” Annie said as she got out of the car and came around to help her grandmother.

Leota fumbled with the seat belt, trying to find the release button herself and having no luck.

“I’ll get it, Grandma,” Annie said, leaning into the car and over her. The belt snapped free, and Annie drew it carefully around her, allowing it to retract.

“Back for more yard work, are you?” Leota said to Corban as Annie helped her out of the car. She could tell by the look on his face that he thought she was serious.

Annie laughed softly. “Be good, Grandma,” she said under her breath. “If you give him a rest today, maybe we can get him to help next weekend.”

Leota chuckled. Here was a girl after her own heart.

“I just stopped by for a few minutes,” Corban said.

So he was making his excuses before he stated his purposes. “Well then, hello and good-bye.” Her hand firm on Annie’s arm, Leota passed him by. He had to step onto the lawn to get out of their way.

“I guess I’ve worn out my welcome,” he said wryly. “Annie, can I get your phone number?”

Leota stopped and looked back at him. “What for? I thought you already had a girlfriend.” She had never seen red flood a face faster.

“I do, and I’m not asking Annie for her number to ask her out.”

“Well, then why do you want her number?”

“Because I thought if anything happened to you, it would be good to have the phone number of a close relative.”

She looked him in the eye and saw him shift uncomfortably. By now, he should know better than to lie to her or think she would let him get away with it. “Are you planning on knocking me down my front steps anytime soon?”

His eyes flashed, and the blush receded. “Any day now.”

She chuckled. “Well, then come on along. If you’ve got more than a minute, you can come inside. I’m tired and I have to use the bathroom.”

“She’s different when you’re around, Annie. More open,” Corban said while the old woman was out of hearing. He explained his project quickly. “I learned more about your grandmother yesterday than I’ve learned in weeks.”

“Does she know you’re doing this report?”

“She knows. I didn’t tell her about it to begin with. Big mistake.”

“I can understand that, can’t you? It would seem to her you came on false pretenses.”

He thought that a hard remark but conceded. “I suppose.”

“She must’ve forgiven you.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Annie smiled up at him. “She likes you.”

“Yeah, right. Me and the black plague.”

Annie laughed. “I haven’t known my grandmother very long, Corban, but I know she says what she thinks. If she didn’t want you here, she’d tell you to leave.”

“Maybe she’s just being polite.”

Annie chuckled. “She’s frank. We were at church this morning, and she raised a few eyebrows.”

“She didn’t like it?”

“I think she loved it, but the service wasn’t what she expected.”

“I didn’t know she was religious.” He made a mental note. “What denomination is she?”

Annie sighed. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Forget about interviewing Grandma and get to know her as a person.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, Anne.”

“Are you? Really?” There was something in her eyes that reminded him strongly of Leota Reinhardt. She was looking beyond everything he said to something deeper. Did she know what motivated him? Sometimes he wondered if he knew himself. Unlike the old lady’s, however, there wasn’t the least hint of unkindness in her expression.

“I’m trying to do good with what I learn from her.” He wanted Anne to understand. Her clear blue eyes held his in an unwavering, uncompromising look, and his conscience twisted. Anne Gardner might as well have said,
“Please don’t use her.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “No more notes, mental or otherwise.” Maybe if Anne knew what his ideas entailed, she would be more sympathetic to his cause and give him some assistance. “I’d like to take you to coffee and explain . . .”

“We can have coffee right here,” Leota said from the doorway. “It might be good for you to spill all your beans on the table and let Annie examine them. Let’s see what she has to say about the government projects you want to see come into fruition for us poor old folks.”

Corban took the challenge. Mrs. Reinhardt had made him think a few things over, and he now had more concrete ideas about what kinds of recreational activities might be available in the elder-care facility. Maybe the amendments would be more to her liking.

Anne sat listening without comment.

Mrs. Reinhardt heated water and mixed fancy cappuccino for her granddaughter, then brewed a pot of regular coffee for him. The old lady said nothing during the half an hour he talked, though he expected her to jump in and make her objections known. She served them both and then sat in the chair nearest the windows, gazing out at her garden while he talked.

When Corban finished, he waited for Anne’s approval, knowing it would carry weight with her grandmother.

“It sounds as though you have very admirable intentions,” she said.

He waited for more, but she just looked at him with a perplexed frown. Her gaze moved to her grandmother and back to him.

Her placid neutrality annoyed him. “What’s wrong with the plan?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “There’s just something about it that troubles me.”

“Explain what you mean.”

“I can’t explain. It’s . . .” She shrugged.

“It’s
what
?”

“Visceral.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Corban.”

The old woman turned from the window and patted her granddaughter’s hand. When Mrs. Reinhardt looked at Corban, he saw tears in her eyes. She smiled at him, and it was the tenderest of smiles, one like he had never seen before in all his life. “Why don’t I make us some lunch?” She put her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up.

“Oh, Grandma, I’ll do that.”

“I’ll take out the fixings.”

The doorbell rang as Mrs. Reinhardt moved to the cabinets. “See who that is, honey, would you, please?” Corban had never heard her use that tone before.
“Honey.”
Sweet, warm, a melting fondness.

Anne left the kitchen. A moment later, Corban could hear voices and laughter in the living room.
Company,
he thought, annoyed. So much for his afternoon alone with Mrs. Reinhardt and her granddaughter. So much for getting into their reasons for not liking his ideas. The day was going to be a complete waste.

Anne came back into the kitchen followed by a punk-looking girl and a man a few years older than Corban. “Grandma,” Anne said, “this is Susan Carter, my best friend and roommate—”

Roommate?
Corban looked the girl over. She was looking back at him with one eyebrow up and a half smile curving her mouth. Anne was oddly matched to this hip girl with her dangling earrings, black-dyed hair, tight jeans, black spandex top, and come-hither look.

“—and her brother Sam. He’s a student at San Jose State University. Criminology.” Sam had his sister’s dark hair and eyes. He looked like half a million other college students Corban saw every day: Levi’s, brown sports coat, white T-shirt, deck shoes, and no socks. Grinning, Sam extended his hand to the old lady. As Mrs. Reinhardt placed her hand in his, he lifted it with great ceremony and kissed it like a European count. Corban sneered inwardly.

“This one’s a rascal.” The old woman actually sounded pleased!

Susan laughed. “She’s already got you pegged, Sam.”

Corban rose as Anne introduced him to the two. “Corban is a friend of my grandmother’s.”

Corban stepped forward to shake hands. “Pleased to meet you both.”

Sam’s eyes were cool and assessing as they shook hands. His grip was slightly harder than necessary. Corban smiled slightly. He could guess whom this joker wanted to impress, and it sure wasn’t Mrs. Reinhardt.

“Corban’s a student at Berkeley,” Mrs. Reinhardt said. “He comes by and walks with me to the supermarket once a week.” She gave him a mischievous look. “And he has some bright ideas about how to manage the elderly.”

“We were just going to make some lunch,” Anne said quickly.

“Good. We arrived just in time,” Sam said.

A look of distress filled Mrs. Reinhardt’s face. “I don’t know if—”

Susan grinned. “No need to worry, Mrs. Reinhardt. We didn’t come to mooch. We stopped by the deli on the way. Sam bought enough to feed an army. Sandwiches, potato salad, coleslaw, dill pickles, chips, and carrot cake.”

“Oh, well, in that case, you’re welcome,” Mrs. Reinhardt said, and they all laughed.

All but Corban. “I wish I could stay,” he said drolly. He looked between Sam and Susan. “My girlfriend and I have plans for later this afternoon.” He saw the hard gleam leave Sam Carter’s eyes.

Susan gave a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “Well, my goodness, that was certainly to the point.” She put her hands up and drew back as though his announcement had just made him a pariah. “No need to worry.”

He gave a humorless laugh and held his hand out to Mrs. Reinhardt. When she placed hers in his, he didn’t kiss it. He put his other hand over it. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Mrs. Reinhardt. Thanks for the coffee.” Releasing her, he looked at Anne. “Can I talk to you for a minute alone?”

She followed him into the living room, where he lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “Watch out for that guy.”

“Sam’s harmless.”

“Yeah, right. Do you think you’ll be spending weekends with your grandmother?”

“It’ll depend on my work schedule.”

“Where do you work?”

She told him. “I’ll be over to see her as often as I can.”

“Would you mind giving me your phone number?”

“Not at all.” She looked around and spotted a notepad beside her grandmother’s chair, then jotted her number on a slip of paper. Tearing it off, she handed it to him. “I just hope you won’t have to use it.”

Corban could feel the heat coming up in his face. He felt as though he had just been slapped.

She frowned slightly, searching his face. “I’m hoping I can get to know Arba Wilson.”

“Who?”

“The lady next door. We saw her at church this morning. It’s kind of you to want to keep an eye on Grandma Leota, Corban, but it really would be better if she got to know her neighbors. Besides, you only come on Wednesdays. If anything happened . . .”

So she had believed his reason for wanting her phone number. “I think you’re right.”

As he turned away, she put her hand on his arm. “I appreciate what you’ve done for my grandmother, Corban. She was alone until you came to help her.”

He heard laughter in the kitchen. “She’s not alone anymore.” The house was too full for his comfort.

“I think there’s room for one more. Or even two if you’d like to bring your girlfriend by sometime.”

His mouth tipped. Now
there
was an idea. “Maybe.”