Love Letters from Ladybug Farm (21 page)

Lindsay stopped and turned to look at him, and for a long moment she said nothing. Bridget straightened up slowly, holding her breath. Then Lindsay grasped Noah’s face in both hands, looked him hard in the eye, and kissed him soundly on the forehead.

“Thank you, Noah,” she said earnestly, “for taking the initiative. And you’re grounded for two weeks. School and work only.”

“Damn,” he swore, scowling fiercely.

“Nice try though,” Bridget told him, smiling. “Really nice. And the flower beds look terrific.”

“Also,” Lindsay added casually, “next time ask us before you take on a big job like the grape vines.”

“Yeah, I know.” Noah gave her a sly look. “Dominic said you asked him to supper Sunday after he finished with the grapes. But don’t worry. I said he should come on anyway.”

Bridget looked at Lindsay questioningly, and Lindsay patted Noah’s shoulder, perhaps a bit too firmly. “You’re a treasure, Noah. A real take-charge kind of guy. Now, how about taking a paintbrush and some white paint and touching up the arbor in the rose garden?”

He tossed her a salute and headed for the door. Ida Mae said, “I got cheese biscuits in the oven. I mixed in some chives like you said. I never heard of putting raspberry jam on cheese biscuits with ham, but I reckon you learn something new every day.”

She left for the kitchen, and Bridget watched her go, her expression softened with affection. Lindsay came over to her, bumped her shoulder with her own, and smiled. “Family” she said, and Bridget returned a weary, contented smile.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they go and do something nice.”

For a moment they leaned together, reveling in the moment. Then Lindsay asked, “What are we going to do about the smell?”

Bridget hesitated. “Scented candles?”

Lindsay gave her a dour look.” I don’t think so.”

“Maybe there’s some kind of—I don’t know—odor neutralizer for fertilizer. I’m going to call Farley.”

Lindsay suppressed a groan. “Don’t call Farley. Don’t call anybody. He’ll just try to fix it and make things worse. Noah tried to fix things. Dominic tried to fix things. That’s the trouble with men—they’re always doing something when there’s absolutely nothing to be done.”

“Well, what are we going to do? Even if we serve lunch inside, they’re going to want to tour the gardens, and the wedding planner will have to do measurements and whatnot, and after all this work they’re going to cancel everything because of the fertilizer, I just know it.” There was genuine panic in her eyes as she confessed, “I spent over $250 on the food for the tasting. We can’t lose this job!”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to us,” Lindsay said, barely mustering the energy to get the words out. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve slept?”

“At least as long as it has been since I have. And I have twelve hours to prepare a meal that should take two days to do right.”

They looked at each other for a long, bleak moment. Then Lindsay said, “I guess we’d better get started, then.”

After her shower, Cici decided to close her eyes for just a minute, and when she woke up it was after five. By the time she made it back to the hospital, Lori was finishing her dinner, and she and her father were joking about the quality of the Jell-O while CNN played on the overhead television. Cici came forward and kissed her hair, and Lori said, “You smell good.”

“I also come bearing gifts.” Cici opened the bakery bag she carried and brought out two chocolate cupcakes.

Lori’s eyes lit up. “I love you, Mom.” She began peeling the paper cup off one.

Richard occupied the chair that had been pulled up close to the bed. He took out his phone and dialed in to check his messages. Cici gave him a hard look and after a moment he understood. “Right,” he said. He stood and offered the chair to her.

“So,” Cici said as she took her seat, “what have you been up to all day?”

“Well,” Lori answered, swallowing a bite of cupcake, “first Prince William came to visit, then we took in an opera, and after that ...”

“Very funny.’

“That phone of hers hasn’t stopped ringing all day,” Richard said. Then he spoke into his own phone. “Hi, sweetheart, I thought I told you we’re not taking any meetings with Caplin ... no, let him stew in his own juices for a while ... Yeah, that’s fine, let me know.”

Cici smiled mirthlessly. “What a nice visit the two of you must have had then,” she said. “Of course”—she turned a meaningful look on Richard—“it might have been easier to do it by phone.”

He ignored her and dialed another number.

Lori said, “Kelley came by with my stuff. And look.” She pointed to an array of teddy bears that had joined the dozens of pink roses that were arranged in jars and vases around the room, along with a cluster of balloons. “People have been sending things all afternoon.”

Cici smiled. “Now you’re starting to get the hang of being sick.”

The nurse pushed open the door. “I don’t remember seeing cupcakes on the menu,” she remarked with an admonishing smile as she took Lori’s tray. “You know the rule is that no outside food can be brought in unless you share with the nursing staff.”

“Talk to my mom,” Lori said. “I have half a cupcake left,” she added generously, holding it up.

The nurse laughed. “Thanks, but you look like you need it more than I do. You have some friends waiting outside,” she added, “but we only allow three visitors at a time. Shall I send in one?”

“Oh,” Lori said, and was unable to hide her disappointment. “I guess.”

Richard flipped his phone closed and came forward. “Send them all in,” he said. “Your mother and I were just going to go get a bite to eat.”

“I just got here!” Cici protested as he took her arm and gently tugged her to her feet.

Richard kissed Lori’s cheek. “No booze or loud music,” he advised, and she laughed.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Cici said as he ushered her toward the door. “And if you get tired, just tell your friends to leave.”

But even as Richard opened the door three high-energy, cheery college students pushed inside, bearing more balloons and teddy bears and all of them talking at once. Lori squealed with delight and opened her arms to receive the gifts and the hugs, and Cici muttered, “You always have to be the cool dad.”

“Seeing those kids will do her more good than anything you or I could do.” He dropped her arm as they reached the elevator. “Besides, I’m starved.”

“What a pity,” she replied. “Because the one thing you won’t find in this hospital is food.”

“Good thing I called ahead for reservations at Bon Homme, then,” he said. “Continental cuisine, wine cellar, and just around the corner. Also ...” The elevator pinged and he touched her shoulder to escort her inside. “Brick oven pizza.”

Cici lifted an eyebrow. “Now I remember why I married you.”

He smiled at her as the elevator doors closed.

Bridget didn’t have to call Farley. He was waiting at the back door when she came down from her shower, somewhat refreshed and dying for a cup of coffee. When she smelled the aroma of fresh brew intermingled with that of sautéed onions and warm cheese biscuits and sweet caramel sauce, she blessed Ida Mae with every fiber of her being and made a private vow never to think another mean thought about her—for at least the rest of the week.

The woman of the hour was saying, “I’ll tell her you was here,” as she closed the screen door. She had a quart-sized jar of clear golden honey in her hand.

“Farley brought you some honey,” Ida Mae said as Bridget came in. She set the jar on the counter and went back to the stove.

“Red clover,” Farley called through the screen door.

“Oh, hi, Farley,” Bridget said. She detoured, a little reluctantly, from the coffeepot to the back door. She stepped out onto the porch and quickly closed the kitchen door behind her, trying not to make a face at the smell that was even stronger on this side of the house.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I want to ask you something.”

He took his cap off quickly, and Bridget noticed the absence of his customary chewing tobacco and soda can. “It’s from the bees that live on the far side of your meadow,” he explained. “You know, where it’s all covered with red clover of a season? I thought you might like it.”

“Why, thank you, Farley,” Bridget said, smiling. “That was really thoughtful. And thank you for helping Noah fertilize the vineyard this morning, but what I wanted to ask you was—”

“Weren’t no problem,” he replied. “Sorry about the smell, but you just keep your windows closed for a day or two and it’ll be fine.”

“Well, that’s the problem. You see—”

“Miss Bridget,” Farley said somberly. He held his cap against his heart and the expression in his clear hazel eyes was grave. “I heard about the tragedy that struck your house. Now, you know I’m not much of a churchgoing man, but if it would help your feelings any, I’d be proud to sit by you at preaching on Sunday and pray for the good Lord to lay his hand on that precious girl.”

Bridget’s astonishment was so great that her jaw actually dropped. “Why—why, I ... that’s so sweet of you. I don’t know what to say. But Lori’s fine, really, she’ll be coming home next week.”

He looked disappointed. “Glad to hear it.” He started to put his hat back on, then turned back, an expression close to hopeful in his eyes. “But about Sunday .. .”

“Sunday,” Bridget repeated slowly as her beleaguered thought processes gradually began to catch up with the conversation. “Farley, did you say the smell would be gone in a couple of days?”

“Yes’m,” he allowed. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “But what I wanted to say was—”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Bridget. “That’s exactly what we have to do!” She stretched to her tiptoes, caught the big man’s face between her hands, and kissed his cheek. “Farley, you are a lifesaver! Thank you!”

She hurried back inside, calling for Lindsay, leaving Farley to touch a wondering finger to the place her lips had been.

Lindsay was on the telephone in the office, and a big grin was spread over her face. “Dominic,” she declared, “we are going to make you the best dinner you ever had! Just not on Sunday,” she added quickly. She hesitated, and laughed in response to something he said. “You bet. Thank you! You saved our lives.”

She turned to Bridget as she hung up the phone. “Dominic says—”

“The smell will be gone by Sunday,” Bridget supplied.

“Which means we just have to move the tasting to Sunday afternoon.”

“Which means we actually have time to get ready for it!”

Lindsay sank back into the chair and Bridget leaned against the doorframe with folded arms, each of them taking a moment to enjoy their victory. Then Bridget tilted her head toward the telephone. “You called Dominic.”

Lindsay shrugged. “Was that Farley’s truck I heard pulling up?”