Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1) (6 page)

“And
this project helps the library. That empty lot should have been fixed
years ago. It's an eyesore. You can't put this off any longer.”
Roz scolded.

“I
see, but without the mayor here tonight, there is nothing I can do.”

“Not
here? But she just reminded us two days ago,” Joan balked.

“Again,
I apologize, but there's nothing further I can do.”

Joan
looked at Roz. She was about to accept George's offer but needed
Roz's okay. Her gentle nod gave Joan exactly what she was looking
for. “Alright George, we will wait. Thank you for the time.”

“Your
welcome,” George bowed slightly, turned and quickly headed to
the closed doors of the meeting hall.

Roz's
stomach growled loud enough for Joan to hear. “Unbelievable,
wouldn't you say?”

“I
can't even talk about this. It's gonna be a long night. We need tea.”

“I'll
take espresso.”

“Sit
it out at Holden's?”

“I'm
game.” Joan looked at her car loaded with stuff she didn't
need. She recalled all the work it took to create a proposal. And
now, all that effort seemed nothing more than a waste of time.
Indeed, it was a good night to just sit and do nothing at Holden's.
It was an even better night to drop back and punt for awhile, maybe a
long while, before they committed to anymore projects.

The morning rain
drizzled like a broken coffee pot while Joan deadheaded a tray of
snapdragons. The snaps had grown so fast that the blooms quickly
wilted and died. She pinched the tops, removing the brown faded
flowers, leaving only a few buds on the stems. Concentrating on the
delicate buds made her forget about the evening. But with each new
tray of flowers, the memory popped into her head.

She
recalled the ride home. Brooding silence had killed any desire to
talk about the evening. Neither of them wanted to admit failure. Joan
had offered to unload the car, but they decided to leave everything
alone. The boxes, posters and even the projector would stay in the
car until morning. Instead of celebrating and sipping wine, they went
home hoping to forget about the night.

George
may have promised them time at the end of the meeting, but most of
the committee members weren't able to stay. They politely sited the
usual excuses; babysitter, illness, early riser. In the end, Joan
lost the urge to negotiate for another meeting. Even Roz began to
looked frayed. They left without a word. It was hard to admit that
all their work turned into nothing but wasted time, with no chance of
being heard, let alone approved.

Joan
dipped her clippers in a jar of bleach water and continued to pinch
blooms. Working with the flowers made her feel productive and useful.
How many more flowers could I have grown if I hadn't wasted time
on the box garden project?
At this point it didn't matter. She
had to focus on calling all those interested in the garden project,
and she wasn't ready to tell them it was a bust. Not yet.

The
sound of the nursery door opening, made her look up from the trays.

“Hi
mom,” Zack said as he poked his head in the nursery. His
backpack looked full of school supplies and hung from his shoulders.
“Sorry about last night.”

Joan
set her clippers down and untied her apron. “Thanks, but we'll
be just fine. It looks like you're ready to walk to the bus.
Everything packed?”

“Ya.
You know, I thought about what you told me last night.”

“Oh,
Zack, please don't worry. We'll find another project.”

“That's
what I mean mom.” He stiffened his back like a solider getting
ready to salute. “I figure we could turn some of our gardens
into box gardens.”

“I
like it.” Joan stroked his head. “I like it so much, you
made me smile.”

“So
can we do it?”

“I'll
be talking to Roz today, then we'll see. Let's talk about it later,
after you get back from school,” Joan said as they left the
nursery.

The
rain continued to drizzle as they reached the porch. Joan pulled a
red umbrella from the coat stand. “I think you'll need this
today. By the way, forgive me for not asking, but how did your talk
with Coach Reardon go yesterday? Are you leaving or staying with the
team?”

Zack
shook the umbrella and popped it open. “I didn't get the
chance.”

“I
thought you wanted to talk to him?”

“I'll
see him today. Besides, it's not that big a deal.”

“For
sure?” Joan wondered how he could switch his attitude in a day
from doom to nonchalant. Her eyes swept over him searching for clues,
but came up empty.

“It's
for reals Mom.”

“Alright,
but if you need me I'm here.”

Zack
turned, launched from the porch and twirled the umbrella overhead as
he walked toward the bus stop. He stomped from puddle to puddle,
until he reached the stop. After he got on the bus, the orange heap
drove away and disappeared around the corner.

The
sound of Roz's jeep crunching over the gravel parking lot made her
look away from the bus stop. Roz parked in the guest lot, closest to
the entryway. Then she clutched her pocketbook, shoved the door open
and jogged to the porch.

“Still
raining today?” Roz grumbled as she reached the top step.

“Just
drizzle. Come on, let's get inside.” Roz swiped the rain off
her jacket and followed Joan into the store. She hung her jacket on
the courtesy coat rack while Joan poured tea.

“Well,
I say rain, but I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, I thought about
last night.”

Joan
groaned. “Me too. Hope you slept more than I did.”

“Probably.”
Roz squeezed a large stream of honey into her tea. “Here's what
I think we should do. Since it's gonna be lousy outside today, we
won't have a lot of customers. I say we call everyone that wanted a
box garden today and tell them about last night's shutout.”

“Ouch,
sounds pissy.” Joan glanced toward the kitchen cabinets until
she spied the hidden English muffins, Roz's most soothing treat.

“Damn
pissed off is right. Are all politicians, even the local nobodies,
just rude or incompetent or both?” I can't believe they don't
have it together. All our work treated like, poof, nothing.”
Roz flailed her thick arms through the air.

“I
gotcha. Lots of work, no reward. I feel it too, but...”

“Oh
no, no buts.”

Joan
handed Roz a toasted English muffin spread with melted butter and
apple jelly. “What I mean is, let's wait a day or two before we
do anything.”

“We
shouldn't leave our customers hanging.”

“You're
right, but let's give ourselves time to think of a backup plan,
something to lessen the blow.”

“How
about we tell them today over French Pastry?” Roz bit into her
muffin.

“Sweet,
but no.”

“How
about we offer them a year supply of garden calendars, free?”

“Great
idea, but how about we wait till morning? Just give me one day.
Besides, Zack thinks we should offer them plots here, on the
grounds.”

“More
work?” Roz shook her head. “You're kidding?” She
paused and swallowed the last bit of muffin. “I suppose keeping
the project here might be better. Fine, but just a few days.”

The
sound of the wind chimes from the porch interrupted their
conversation. She heard the shop door creak and looked at Roz. “Maybe
we will have customers today.” She headed for the show room and
grinned when she saw Buzz.

“Hello,
just in time for muffins.”

“Just
in time to hear about last night's good news,” he said.

“It's
a long story Buzz and I have to be at Holden's by three. Can you stay
for awhile?”

“Not
sounding good, but for you, I can stay.”

Joan
helped him slip off his jacket. Even though she didn't have the heart
to repeat last night's story, she knew Roz would break the news to
him in vivid detail. Buzz was a good listener and an even better
problem solver. And today, they needed his help.

Later
in the afternoon as scheduled, Joan headed to Holden's Books to put
the finishing touches on the entryway. The drizzle had subsided. Roz
had calmed down enough, after complaining to Buzz, to run the shop
for the rest of the afternoon. Buzz had been a careful listener, but
made few comments. She couldn't remember a time when Buzz, a radio
broadcaster, was at a loss for words. She wasn't sure if he was sad
or perplexed. But whatever he felt, she was glad he came. Knowing he
was as disappointed as she was made her feel understood. And after
the nights events, she welcomed the feeling.

At
Holden's, variegated red coleus shot out of the lime green potato
vines growing in the ancient urns that flanked the doors, like
soldiers standing guard. Underneath the display window, two black
bistro sets welcomed guests. In the center of the tables, African
violets grew from pewter vases. As she admired the warmth and
character that her worked added to the store, she saw Cal walking
toward her.

“Hello,”
he waved. “The store looks great. I would offer to help you,
but I see you do well on your own.”

“Thanks,
but speaking of help, did Zack talk to you this morning?”

“Talk?”
Cal shook his head

“He
didn't talk to you? Okay, let me tell you. Zack's uncomfortable with
baseball. He wants to leave, but I insisted he speak to you.”

“Has
he said why?”

“He's
uncomfortable being an assistant and taking the lead.”

“I
see.” Cal's soft grey eyes flickered with recognition. “I'll
try to get a feel for what's happening with him at practice.”

“I
don't want him to know I talked to you.”

“That
I can do.”

“Any
other advice?” Joan pinched a wilted leaf from the potato vine.
She hoped Cal would talk about his plans to leave school at the end
of the year. She wanted to tell Zack herself, so he wouldn't feel so
upset about wanting to leave baseball.

Cal
ran his fingers along his chin line. “Take him to the beach on
Sunday.”

“The
beach? We're not beach goers.”

“I'm
introducing the Junior Marine Biologist to kayaking on Sunday. I
teach safety lessons to interested groups. It should be busy and take
his mind off baseball.”

“Zack
loves animals. I had no idea you were active with the group.”

“I
started just this year. A new venture I'm taking on.”

“In
addition to baseball?”

“Yes,
and it's been busy. So you're on for Sunday?”

“We'll
be there.”

Cal
glanced at his watch. “Speaking of busy, I need to get to
practice.” He grinned and headed toward Hanly Park.

She
primped at the potato vines. The thought of Zack meeting a group of
animal lovers made her smile. He'd be excited to try something new
since baseball had lost its appeal. She could also use a diversion
that would take her mind off the failed box garden project. He would
have fun while she relaxed on the beach. It would be good for them.

The
sound of Blaine's cheerful hello made her stand.

“Darling,
you're as beautiful as my magnificent new store front. Do come in for
coffee. It's on me.”

Blaine's
broad smile captivated her. “Thank you. I'd love some. I have
so much to tell you.”

“This
is good.”

Blaine
held the door open with one hand, and waved with the other in front
of his stout body.

Joan made it home
before the rain and headed straight to the nursery. It had felt good
to pour her heart out to Blaine. The nagging 'what-did-I-do-wrong'
hum in the back of her mind had vanished after they talked. He had
reminded her that time spent for a good purpose is never wasted. His
words stayed with her as if glued on her heart. Indeed, the time
spent designing the box gardens had been enjoyable and eventually
something good would come from the venture. She wasn't sure when that
'something-good' would happen, but now she had the patience to wait.

She
heard the back door open and glanced at the clock above the door.
Five-thirty. It would be Zack, just in time for supper. She spritzed
a row of cucumbers that had started to bud and a moment later Zack
came through the door, his cheeks flushed as if he'd jogged home from
practice.

“You
made it home. Does it still look like rain?” she asked as he
stepped on to the nursery's cement floor.

“It's
gonna storm.”

“How
was practice?”

“Okay.”
Zack fidgeted with his backpack then hopped up on a stool that was
slightly too tall for him. “I talked to coach. He wants me to
stay on the team, but he says I can do something else besides be his
assistant.”

“Really
and what is something else?”

“He
said I could kayak on Sunday with the marine biologists. If I like
that better, I don't have to be assistant anymore.” Zack dumped
his backpack on a stool. “Can we go?”

Joan
took a silent relief breath. Cal had done his part. “Well, if
you're sure you want to, why not?”

Zack
smiled. “I really want to Mom. It'll be cool. But I still want
to quit baseball. I hate being an assistant. I get blamed for
everything.”

“I
know you hate it. And of course you can quit. But how about asking
coach to make Benny his assistant?”

“Mom!
That’s giving up.”

“So
is quitting.”

“Why
give that jerk my spot?”

“Here's
why. Maybe you're a great player. We certainly know Benny isn't.”

Zack
rolled his eyes. “He can't even hit the ball.”

“Do
you think Benny could help coach any better than you?”

“No
way, he's whiny.”

“Maybe
he's whiny because he's jealous of you. You're the better player, so
he wants a chance to do something different, like assisting coach.”

“But
he sucks at helping anybody.”