Coming Up Daffy

 

To my friend, and fellow Hoosier, Leah Guinn who said something profound to me during a black moment in my career and personal life. Always find the joy. I
'
ll never forget that. Thank you. It
'
s made a huge difference.

 

 

Alice Attler slid out from behind the wheel of her old-school station wagon. Painted a faded lime green over rust spots, and with its fake wood paneling, it was given to her by her dad and never failed to put her in mind of the vacations her family had taken every summer, all piled into the hideous car with no air conditioning. Man, she'd hated having to get into that car for fear that her friends might see and deride the “Family Fun Mobile”. Now, in this phase of her life, she didn't mind. The wagon ran like a dream, thanks to her dad's meticulous care, plus it saved her from having to buy a new one and thereby incur a payment she might not be able to afford. Owning a business was much like gambling. Easy come, easy go sometimes.

She patted a hand against the side of the wagon, now emblazoned with a magnetic banner that advertised for her business,
Flower Power
. Florist, gardener, purveyor of bulbs, and worker of dirt; if it involved growing things, Alice did it. Her fingertips glided over a small dent, and as always, she snickered. She'd put that ding in the car back in her senior year of high school with one crazy off-course softball, two days after Dad had had the whole vehicle detailed and repainted. Boy had her dad given her a what for, but he'd left the dent in the side “so she'd always remember”. Her dad was a good egg. Ten years later and that dent still made her thankful for her parents' nurturing wings — especially since she still lived with her dad.

As she moved to the rear of the vehicle, she smiled and pulled on her gardener's gloves. The ladybug print always lifted her spirits and reminded her how great it was she'd chosen gardening for her line of work. Only when she had her hands buried in dirt or while smelling the scent of growing things was she truly happy. After swinging open the back door, she hefted out a box full of live, nearly bloomed daffodils.

“Alice! You should have called me.” The chiding shout carried over the chilly mid-morning April air as Melissa Carlisle ran through her front yard. She stumbled to an awkward stop on the street where Alice stood with the box of flowers. One of the woman's pink bunny slippers had come halfway off a foot, which was funny since her friend owned a vintage lingerie shop specializing in Edwardian- and Victorian-style underthings. Bunny slippers, in Alice's opinion, just weren't sexy, and they certainly didn't go with Melissa's lingerie image. “Let me help you carry all of this.” She hopped on one foot while readjusting the renegade slipper.

“Okay, but really, I can handle it.” She shoved the box into Mel's hands and then grabbed her bag of gardening tools from the car. Once she'd slung the strap over her shoulder, she lifted the second box of daffodils and swung the door shut with a hip. “So, none of the bulbs came up?” She followed Mel over the newly-green grass to a flowerbed that stretched beneath two windows at the front of the house.

“Most of them haven't. There is one or two that sprouted but never had a bud. The greens came up. I don't know if the squirrels got to them or if the bulbs were just duds.” Melissa set her box on the ground. “Thanks for coming out here to replace them.”

“Hey, it's my business name on the line. If you're not happy, and my bulbs are defective, it's my job to replace them.” She'd planted the bulbs last fall. Of course, there'd been no way to know they were defective until blooming season. Alice set her box of flowers next to Melissa's, dropped her bag, and then sank to her knees near the pink brick border. “I guess I'll get to work.”

Melissa perched on a decorative boulder at one corner of the flowerbed. Her pink, terrycloth robe gaped open to reveal a lace-edged and rosebud-embroidered cotton nightgown. It was pretty, and Alice made a mental note to visit Mel's shop soon. “Can I ask you a question?” She twirled a strand of long, red hair around a forefinger. Between the sleepwear, the slippers, and her wonderful hair, she resembled a teenager at her first slumber party.

“Sure. What's up?” She grabbed a trowel from her bag and began digging up the defective bulbs.

“When I was at the market yesterday, I heard a couple of kids refer to you as Daffy. What's that about?” Her brown eyes twinkled as she found the whole thing funny.

Alice cringed from the dorky nickname she'd acquired in recent weeks. “If it's the fourth-graders, they call me Daffy for two reasons.” With more of a savage thrust than she'd intended, she plunged her shovel into the rain-softened earth well past the green plastic handle. “First because a lot of my gardening and floral business right now relates to daffodils, and that's what they see me carting around town.”

“And the second reason?”

Heat blazed in Alice's cheeks. “My habit of jumping subjects in conversation without finishing the first thought. The kids think it makes me sound crazy.” She poked around in the dirt. Once she located a bulb, she pulled it out and tossed it out of the flowerbed. “Hey, you know what would be great here? Purple tulips. The yellow and purple together would look awesome.”

“Daffy because you change subjects, huh?” Melissa snorted with laughter. “Like you just did right now.” Her smile rivaled the sun. “Ignore them. It means your head's so full of everything you're interested in, it can't hold all the goodness. You like to share.”

“Or it means I'm full of scattered thoughts that make no sense to anyone except me.” She continued to dig up bulbs. As much as Alice enjoyed Melissa's company, she didn't like having to think of conversation. One reason she'd chosen gardening for an occupation was the fact she didn't need to talk if she didn't want to. On occasion, she'd talk to the plants, but there were no witnesses and no mockery if she topic-hopped.

“Any luck in the dating department?” Mel brushed at a spot of dirt near the hem of her robe.

“Not really.” Alice glanced at one of the daffodils that had come up but never produced a bud.
That's what my love life is like. A dud. A fizzle.

“Oh, too bad. What about that one guy you were dating a while back?” Genuine sympathy wove through Mel's voice. “You seemed really into him.”

“Frank? Yeah, I liked him.” Alice shrugged. Their relationship had ended six months ago, and not even with a big break-up fight. It was more of a “so, this really isn't working for me…” and by a text message no less. She heaved a sigh. “He decided the commute back and forth from Indy on the weekends was too much. I guess I wasn't worth the mileage or the gas.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. I just can't seem to make a relationship go the distance.” She continued to dig up bulbs and then savagely pulled up the greenery, chucking them all out of the flowerbed. Of course, being too eager to please a guy in the physical department could have been the cause of that relationship's early demise.
Maybe next time I won't let things rush into the bedroom, and I'll actually get to know what a guy is really about first.
“I need a new tactic.”

“Maybe you just need to spruce yourself up, you know, like you're doing with my flowerbed.” Melissa's smile held nothing except warmth and encouragement. “Put some highlights in your hair, get a manicure, and wear something that's not streaked with dirt.”

Alice snickered. It seemed like her fingernails were perpetually stained as well as her clothes. “All of that is expensive, but I'll think about it. I guess I always thought if a guy liked me, he'd like
me
, no matter what I look like.”

“True, and that would work if we lived in a perfect world. Too bad dirt's not attractive, huh?” She wiggled a bunny slipper. “It's such a bummer, though.”

“What is?”

“You've got the magic touch when it comes to plants and flowers. I mean, goodness, you sold every single one of your orchids at the Winter Carnival, and to folks who don't have a hoity toity bone in their bodies. Can you focus your talent on growing yourself a relationship?” From somewhere inside the house, the electronic shrill of the phone sounded. Melissa bounced up from her perch. “I've got to take that, plus if I don't hurry, I'll be late to the store. Will you be okay here?”

“Yup. Don't worry about me.” Alice heaved another sigh, more than a little glad when Mel disappeared inside the house with the door firmly closed behind her. “As long as it's plants, I'm real good.”

Still, Mel's words echoed in her head.
Grow myself a relationship.
She snorted as she searched for any straggler bulbs.
Yeah, I'll get right on that.
Putting in the time, effort, and money to alter her appearance just to catch a guy's notice made her stomach clench. Not to mention, it wasn't as if Francesville was a hotbed of the single, attractive man scene. For heaven's sake, she'd met Frank at a gardener's convention in Indianapolis. Well, not at the convention but at a bar next to her hotel while she was there.

While she planted the daffodil plants into the rich soil, she hummed a tune to a popular song she'd heard playing on the car radio earlier. Honestly, the fact she didn't have a boyfriend or any prospects didn't bother her.
I'm twenty-seven, not near death's door.
She scratched an itch on one cheek. “I'll worry about it when I'm thirty and the alarm on my biological clock goes off.” With a nod to the plant nearest to her, she continued with her work until jaunty green flowers filled the entire flowerbed. Unopened buds sat atop the healthy stalks, some with bright yellow color just beginning to peek through.

Then she frowned.

After stripping off her gloves, she buried her hands into the soil, letting it run through her fingers. It could be a bit richer, could be aerated better. Maybe the dud bulbs lacked nourishment. The best way to fix it was to introduce earthworms to the mix. Alice grabbed her gloves, stood, and gave a cursory dust-off to her jeans. The best place to find earthworms was
Francesville Bait and Tackle
. Though it was a good twenty minute jaunt to reach the Kincaide farm, it'd be worth it. She'd used their services before, and they really did get in the best insects and bait.

“Mel?” Alice banged on the front door and then opened it a crack and hollered in, “I'm leaving for a bit. I want to put some worms in your soil. See you later!” Once she'd gotten a muffled confirmation, she closed the door, picked up the discarded bulbs and boxes, then toted everything back to her car.