Sometime Yesterday (5 page)

Van drove up the long driveway leading to the old house, feeling a tingle on the back of her neck. She vaguely remembered her father telling her that one of her great-whatever-many-times-grandfather used be the head gardener for the original owners.

She had bragged about it when she was sixteen and her friends thought it would be fun to party in the abandoned house. So one stormy night, armed with beer, flashlights, and sleeping bags, they paired off and spread out throughout the rooms.

She couldn’t help but grin when she also recalled that she made out with the head cheerleader, Missy, that night. If the other kids were scared and reported slamming doors and spooky knocking noises, she hadn’t heard them over her raging hormones. Van didn’t believe in ghosts. She had, however, believed in making it to second base with Missy Barnes.

The state of the grounds on either side of the driveway brought her back to the present. Karen Small had come to the nursery earlier in the week. While Van was ringing her purchase, Karen mentioned that the new owner of the old Seeley place might need the services of a good landscaper because she was certain it would be too much work for an individual to take on by herself. Karen pulled out a business card and wrote the new owner’s name on the back of it.

Van continued to the house and mentally made an automatic checklist of what was needed to restore the gardens. Maybe the new owner would trust her experience to design a new plan for the yard. Oleander trees, azaleas, and rhododendrons grown out of control encroached on the driveway; thimbleberry and oxalis grew haphazardly around the scattered coastal trees; weeds and grass as tall as an adult in some areas, ran through the acreage. The sweet smell of honeysuckle in the sunny afternoon wafted through her open window and Van took a deep breath. She loved the amazing beauty of the California coast and knew she wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

The house came into view and she admired the wraparound porch. She didn’t remember the house being pink before, but the color really stood out now. Definitely not a choice she would have made, but then again, she didn’t own it.

By the time Van reached the door, she had already processed approximate cost, and how many of her crew she would need, though she wouldn’t know for certain until she saw the back of the house. She pulled the owner’s name out of her back pocket. The nursery did well, but she was excited about the scope of this job, and it would give her crew something to do during the summer. She reconsidered the size of the property and amended that estimate of time to continue right through the fall. They were booked solid for the next few weeks of spring.

Van heard the click of the dead bolt opening and had to look down at the woman who answered the door. She was momentarily caught off guard. Damn, she was a sucker for a redhead. Especially ones with freckles sprinkled across their nose and eyes as green as diamond cut emeralds. She cleared her throat and handed her one of her landscaping cards. So much for her standard business pitch. The woman stared back at her. It was the woman from the store parking lot, the one whose pockets she admired.

“Van Easton.” She finally managed to blurt out before she stuck out her hand.

The woman shook her hand. “Hello.”

Van cleared her throat again. “Mrs. Chambers?”

A split second of sadness passed over her face. “Nope, someone else has that title now. Natalie O’Donnell. What can I do for you?” Her smile was polite, pretty, and soft.

Van licked her lips, suddenly wishing she had some water. “Well, actually, Natalie, it’s what I can do for you.” She indicated the grounds with a sweep of her arm. “I ran into Karen a few days ago and she mentioned that you might need a landscaper.”

Natalie twitched and looked around Van.

Van backed up a step on the porch. The seconds ticked by into a full minute.
What? Doesn’t she know what her yard looks like?
“Ma’am?” Van saw a flicker of fear in her expression.

“I could certainly use some help,” Natalie said. “The grounds weren’t something I considered when I bought the place and it’s going to need a major reconstruction.”

Van relaxed a little. “Do you mind if I look around?”

“Let’s start in the back.” Natalie led her around the side of the house.

Van caught herself checking out the way Natalie’s shorts shifted with her swaying walk, reminding her of the first time she saw her ass. She could smell her shampoo, fresh and citrusy, and it made her mouth water.

Little warning bells went off in her head and she went back to assessing the project. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about straight women? Natalie herself said she was divorced. Why then, was her gaydar pinging? Must be wishful thinking on her part, she concluded. Besides, it was never a good idea to get involved with a client. She wanted this job.

*

Van parked her truck, sat back, and closed her eyes. She wondered just how fast she could complete the estimate for the house on the hill. Van knew it wasn’t just the job itself she was excited about. Thoughts of the attractive but skittish new client had teased her on the drive home. Natalie was certainly jumpy when she finished giving Van a tour of the grounds, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she constantly looked over her shoulder. She was even more nervous when they were at the back of the house and stood off to the side of the porch while Van took measurements and circled around with her clipboard. When she was done, she told Natalie she would write a proposal and get back with her soon.

Natalie seemed more at ease when they got back to the front of the house and the smile she gave Van was genuine, lighting her face and creating sunshine in the small space between them. She gave a hesitant wave when Van drove away.

Van got out of the truck and headed for the front door of her small house. Five years ago, it had been falling apart, crumbling slowly, but she had been able to see the good bones beneath the wilting exterior. She had bought it and with her father’s help had restored it from the inside out. The front door opened before she could put her key in.

“Jesus. Candy, you scared the hell out me!” Over the workday, Van had forgotten about the woman she had brought home from the bar the night before, as well as the fact she had uncharacteristically told the woman she could hang out at her house. She made yet another promise to herself to quit drinking so much.

“I’m so sorry.” Candy giggled and opened the door for her and stood to the side while she came in. Freshly showered and dressed only in one of Van’s work shirts and skimpy white panties, she had obviously made herself at home. The living room was cleared of last night’s revelry.

Candy stretched on her toes to kiss her, but Van turned her head and Candy’s mouth brushed her cheek instead. “Is something wrong?”

Van hesitated then turned around. “Listen, Candy. I didn’t expect you to still be here.” She felt awkward and was reminded why she didn’t like to have women stay over. She liked her, and this wasn’t the first time they had fallen into bed together. It simply hit too close to a relationship for Van’s comfort. She opened her mouth, but Candy cut her off before she could answer.

“Please don’t use that bullshit line, it’s-not-you-it’s-me. Spare me the clichés, all right? Better yet, don’t say anything.” She threw her arms out for emphasis. “I’m leaving. I don’t need this shit.”

She left Van standing by the refrigerator, stunned.
Well, that certainly went well.

A few minutes later, Candy slammed out of the bedroom completely dressed with her big purse bouncing off the side of the wall. “You know what really sucks, Van? I can’t even say that you promised me anything.” She wiped a tear off her cheek.

Even though she knew the crying to be ego rather than heartbreak, Van reached out a hand to her to stop her from running out the door. “Candy, please—”

“Please what, Van?” Candy put out a hand to block Van’s. “Don’t touch me right now. Just leave me my fucking dignity.” She slammed the door on her way out.

Van stood looking at the closed door for a moment.
I’m sorry I can’t be who you want me to be. I’m sorry I can’t love you.

Love had died six years ago. Van could still remember every single word that was spoken in that hospital room the day Cara died.

Cara lay in that uncomfortable bed, hooked up to God knows how many monitors, various tubes running in different directions. Her dark hair was matted with sweat and the purple circles under her eyes were prominent on her pale and gaunt face. She was still the most beautiful woman Van had ever seen.

Van sat in the chair next to the bed and held her hand, taking care not to bump the IVs. Her tears fell freely as she shook her head. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t want anyone but you. You’re going to get better. You’ll see.”

Cara spoke softly but with intent. “I want you to love and be loved. Promise me, Vanessa. Promise me you will look for happiness.”

Van couldn’t breathe, grief punctured her heart, and she was so damn tired. She didn’t want to say good-bye to the woman she had loved for the last decade. She sure as hell couldn’t think about loving anyone else. So she lied. She looked Cara straight in the eye and promised her anything, anything at all, if it would help ease her suffering.

A tender smile spread across Cara’s face and she let go. She took a long breath in, and did not take another.

It was a promise Van had yet to keep. When the darkness grew over the loneliness until it became more than she could bear, she headed out to drown the despair. There was always a willing soul who could see her pain and wanted to fix her, at least for a night anyway. She was halfway out the door to find one of those willing female souls when her emptiness warred with self-loathing, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was lounge on the couch and watch some television. Alone.

*

“What’s that stupid grin on your face for?” Van’s father teased her.

“Got a new client.”

“Oh?” her father asked. “Anyone I know?”

“Nope. It’s a woman Karen Small told me about.” Van put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “Remember…the one who bought the Seeley place.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. I heard about her when the boys were over for poker. Stan met her. Have you gone to see her already?”

Van nodded. “I went last week. We just made an appointment for tomorrow morning to go over the estimate.”

“That was quick. I know we’ve been swamped with the spring rush. Did you tell her that someone in your family worked there a hundred years ago?”

“Yes, I did. Natalie loved the idea.”

He grinned and winked at her. “Oh, I get it.”

“You get what?”

“Stan told me she was a cute little redhead. Was he right?”

“Okay, you win. She’s really short.” Van held a hand to a point just below her shoulder. “She reminds me of the woman who played Agent Scully in the
X-Files
. She’s divorced and really shy.” Van squinted at her father. “Why are you asking me this anyway? She’s just a client, Dad.”

“Well, she is new in town and you got a funny look on your face when you said her name. Hey, weren’t you going out with that little blonde, what’s her name, Cindy?”

“I did not get a funny look. Her name was Candy, Dad. And no, we’re not going out anymore.”

“Seriously, Vannie. Are you ever going to settle down again?”

“Why the sudden interest?” Van leaned back. “You’ve never asked me that.”

“Maybe I’m tired of seeing just your face at Sunday dinner. Maybe I want a pretty new face to smile at.”

“Then maybe you should start dating, old man.” She grinned so he knew she was kidding.

He refused to let it go. “It can’t be healthy for you, all that drinking and running around that you do. Don’t you miss having someone to come home to and talk with?”

Van leaned over the desk. “I had my shot, Dad. And she died. I was happy and I loved Cara with everything in me. I won’t ever find that again, ever. I’m not sure I even want to.” She left the office muttering under her breath. “I’ve got work to do.”

A beautiful fountain bubbled in the yard. It was a classic design with a cherub pouring water out of a jug. The only thing different about it was the unusual size. It was large enough Natalie could feel the water spray from where she was standing, five feet away. Rainbows sparkled in the mist where the sun was shining through the crystal droplets of water. She looked around in astonishment. Carefully trimmed rosebushes of red, yellow, pink, and white lined the walkway into the garden on the side of the house. Dark purple blooms from a giant lilac framed the arbor. Purple pansies burst out of planters. Red geraniums battled with yellow in more containers. It was gorgeous.

Natalie sat on a pretty stone bench nestled amongst bleeding fuchsias to the side of the fountain and for the first time noticed the blue summer dress she was wearing. The only times she ever wore dresses were at her gallery showings. As a matter of fact, the only one she’d brought with her was a little black number, one of the few her ex-husband hadn’t picked out for her.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Natalie turned sharply, her pulse leaping.