Read The Wedding Dance Online

Authors: Lucy Kevin

Tags: #General Fiction

The Wedding Dance (6 page)

BOOK: The Wedding Dance
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“Hello, Phoebe.”

Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him. Would he ever get used to how beautiful she was?

“Hi, Patrick.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly last night. Good thing my building manager had already let my mother in by the time I got home.”

He worked to mask his surprise that her mother’s arrival hadn’t just been an excuse. Still, Patrick had the feeling that she’d been only too happy to leave the outdoor restaurant—and
him
—by that point.

“Is she doing okay?”

“I hope so. Her latest relationship didn’t work out, and—” She cut herself off and ran a hand through her hair, before forcing a smile onto her face. “I began to write up some ideas for Rose’s landscaping plans last night. I’ll try to get them to you in a couple of days if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine, thanks,” he said, not wanting to talk business with her right now. “RJ’s volunteer gardening group is landscaping part of Golden Gate Park and I was wondering if you’d like to come help out tomorrow afternoon.”

That wary look was back in her eyes. “So this would be you and me—”

“And about thirty other people,” he said quickly. “It’s a worthwhile project, and we could really use your skills. Having someone who really knows what she’s doing with plants could make all the difference.”

Phoebe hesitated and he resisted the urge to push her any harder to get her to agree. Doing that would just give her more of a reason to back away.

On impulse, he reached down to pick up a lone gladiola that was lying on the grass between them and handed it to her.

“I hope to see you there.”

Chapter Eight

Phoebe stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, trying to pick out the right thing to wear for the late afternoon gardening project. She wanted to look good, but working on a few well-maintained flowerbeds at the chalet and hacking through overgrown shrubs to reclaim an untamed section of parkland were two very different things.

Of course, it shouldn’t matter how she looked today. Not now that Patrick seemed to have finally gotten her “let’s just be friends” message. After all, no one in the history of the world had ever recommended a day of hard manual labor as a technique of seduction. It was about as far from any normal idea of a date as Phoebe could think of, and maybe that was the point. Maybe this was Patrick’s way of making it clear that he could work with her without romance intruding on it. Maybe he really did want to be buddies with her the way his brother was.

Either way, she thought as she pushed back the disappointment at the thought of only being “buddies” with Patrick, it made picking out clothes a little easier. Jeans and a dark sweater wouldn’t show too much dirt. After putting on some boots, she checked her watch and saw that she’d have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the park on time, and rushed out into her apartment.

“Where are you going?” her mom asked. “I’ve come over to visit, and I’ve barely seen you.”

“A—” she paused, trying to find the right word for what Patrick was to her, “—friend from work asked me to help out with a volunteer gardening project.”

“Gardening? That sounds lovely.”

Her mother looked so hopeful for a moment and it was such a nice change from the lost, forlorn expression that had been all but etched into her face since the previous night, that Phoebe suddenly found herself saying, “Mom, how would you like to come out with me today?”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to sit around here in my apartment all day. You should be out doing things. Having fun.”

“I don’t know…” her mother began again, but Phoebe wasn’t about to give her the chance to come up with an excuse to avoid it. Instead, she stood, pulling her mother up with her hand.

“You’ll enjoy it. I promise.”

Angela probably would, too. At least as long as Phoebe kept her away from the more backbreaking parts of the landscaping project. Her mother enjoyed gardening almost as much as Phoebe.

“I guess it would be nice to do something together,” her mother admitted. She looked around at Phoebe’s apartment. “And to get out of this place. Really dear, maybe we should spend the day visiting realtors or—”

“Come on, Mom.”

Phoebe had already put a few basic supplies in the trunk of her car, so they didn’t need to do anything beyond getting in and driving to Golden Gate Park. Her mother was quite subdued as Phoebe drove, but at least she wasn’t talking about how badly the men in her life had let her down.

Not wanting her mother to be too surprised by the work that awaited them, Phoebe said, “We’re actually going to be spending the day helping a local gardening group clear some of Golden Gate Park.”

“We’re going to be pulling up weeds?” Her mother sighed. “Well, I suppose that’s all right.”

“I remember when I was little, you’d take me around the garden,” Phoebe said, “showing me which were plants and which were weeds. I had my own watering can, but you’d only let me help with the planting if I was very careful.”

“That watering can was as big as you were, but you’d take it everywhere.” Her mother sounded lost in the past. “As I recall, I had to stop you watering the cat to see if that would make it grow.”

In the reflection of her mother’s features in the windshield, Phoebe thought that she caught the barest hint of a smile. Thank God.

Phoebe parked the car then went around to the trunk. She’d brought gardening gloves, trowels, and a few other things she normally used to keep the Rose Chalet’s flowers on track for the upcoming weddings. Thankfully, she at least had a spare pair of gloves she could lend her mother, though to Phoebe’s surprise, she turned that offer away.

“If I’m going to be elbow deep in dirt,” her mother said, “I might as well do it properly and get some dirt under my fingernails.”

There were groups of people working to weed flower beds and trim back trees, build retaining walls to stop banks of earth from slipping, and thin out some of the wilder scrub around the edges. They seemed to be working in an organized kind of way, but there didn’t seem to be much sign of whoever was doing the organizing. There was also a small tent set up over to one side, obviously intended for the volunteers to relax in after they were done working.

It was only when she looked over the gardens for a second time that Phoebe spotted Patrick helping with one of the low retaining walls. It made sense that he wasn’t anywhere near any of the plants.

She headed over with her mom in tow. “Hi Patrick. This is my mother, Angela.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Patrick said.

“You too, Patrick.”

Her mother looked from him to Phoebe and raised her eyebrows, which Phoebe prayed he didn’t notice as she asked, “Where do you want us?” Although, with the way Patrick’s muscles stood out against his shirt, she couldn’t make up her mind whether it would be better to work next to him or as far away as possible.

He smiled at her, that gorgeous smile that turned her insides to goo every time. “Let me check with RJ to see who needs the extra help the most. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Phoebe watched him leave. So did her mother.

Angela gave Phoebe a pointed look. “I’m suddenly starting to understand why coming out here to help was such a big deal for you.”

Phoebe frowned. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just here to volunteer.”

“Oh, come on, honey. I’m your mother. I know you better than anybody. It’s obvious that you like him. And why wouldn’t you?” Angela added with an appreciative sigh. “He’s gorgeous.”

Phoebe thought briefly about arguing, but there didn’t seem to be much point. Lately, no one seemed to believe that she wasn’t interested in Patrick. Why should her mother be any different?

Chapter Nine

“Phoebe’s just arrived,” Patrick informed his brother, “and she’s brought her mother, Angela. Where do you want them?”

“The flower garden,” RJ said. “If anyone can make sense of the mess in there, she can. Unless you think she’s needed somewhere else?”

“No, I think that makes sense for the two of them. Does that old palm tree stump next to the flower garden still need digging up?”

RJ looked at him with obvious surprise. “Are you offering to do it? I was thinking of leaving that one. It’s going to be backbreaking work, you know.”

Patrick shrugged. “You’ve got it under control here, so I might as well handle that.”

Although his brother clearly thought he was nuts, he said, “If you’re offering, that would help a lot, thanks.”

No, Patrick thought, he should be thanking his brother for a tailor-made excuse to spend the day just yards away from Phoebe.

When he went back to them and relayed RJ’s assignments for the day, Phoebe looked surprisingly happy at the amount of manual labor she’d just been given, though her mother looked less enthusiastic, especially when they reached the gardens, which were every bit as bad as RJ had suggested.

“It’s like a jungle in here,” Phoebe said.

“Not exactly like you wandering around with your little watering can, is it?” her mother asked, clearly taken aback.

Patrick watched Phoebe pull back her shoulder blades and stare down the unruly garden. “Well, at least we’ll know we made a difference today.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for showing us what we’re doing. I guess you’d better get back to the walls.”

“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily, I’m afraid,” Patrick said. He nodded to the old tree stump in the middle of the garden. It was gnarled and dark with age, obviously rock solid. “That’s my project for the afternoon.”

“Oh boy,” Angela said. “Those things have roots like iron.”

Patrick could barely take his eyes off of Phoebe to reply to her mother. “I’ve often heard it said that nothing worth doing comes easy.”

“Yes, well, occasionally you put in all that work and still get nothing out of it,” Phoebe pointed out, but then stopped and glanced across at her mother. “We should probably let Patrick get to work, Mom. It looks like he has a lot to do, and so do we.”

That was true. First he had to dig around the stump, finding the roots and removing them before probably having to hack the thing down to a moveable size with an axe. Even then, he’d probably need RJ’s help for the final removal. Still, the sooner he got started with it, the sooner he’d be finished, so he went and fetched a shovel.

By the time he got back with his tools, Phoebe and her mother had already set to work on putting the garden into some kind of order. Phoebe worked her way methodically along the rows of weeds, separating them out from those plants that could still be salvaged there. She worked with a straightforward kind of determination that Patrick greatly admired.

He set to work on getting the stump out, and it was every bit as hard as both RJ and Phoebe’s mother had predicted it would be. Pretty soon, sweat was pouring from him as he worked his way around the roots. But it was all worth it because he not only got to watch Phoebe working with her mother, he was also just close enough to hear them chatting.

“I’d forgotten what hard work this was,” Phoebe’s mother said. “Are you
sure
we used to enjoy it that much?”

Phoebe laughed. “Oh yes,” she said in a deadpan voice, “we
loved
it.”

Only, instead of laughing with her, Phoebe’s mother picked up a plant her daughter had put into the compost heap and stuck it back in the ground.

“Those aren’t weeds, honey. They’re perfectly good Gardenias.”

“I know, but they’re dying.” Phoebe removed the plant again. “It’s better to get them out now and get it over with, so that there’s room for something to really flourish.”

Her mother’s face fell. “Maybe all they need is a little loving attention, rather than being tossed in the nearest trash container.” Her mother took the trowel from Phoebe’s hand. “And it would be better if you held it like this.”

Phoebe pressed her lips together and he was almost certain she was counting to ten before speaking. Just as he sometimes had to do with difficult clients.

“You know I do this for a living, right Mom?” Phoebe said in a voice so soft that Patrick more read her lips than heard the words.

“That doesn’t mean that you know everything, dear. Besides, maybe if you spent a little less time working and a little more getting out to meet some suitable young men, then you would spend your days off doing something other than yet more gardening.”

Patrick clenched his teeth at the idea of Phoebe meeting any “suitable young men.” She’d already met one, thank you very much.

“I’ve told you before,” Phoebe said in a voice that was a whole lot more relaxed than it should have been. “I like my life, Mom.”

Patrick had to admire her self-control. It seemed clear to him that her mother wasn’t trying to be unpleasant, but that surely couldn’t make it any easier for Phoebe. If this was something that she had to deal with on a regular basis then no wonder she was careful about letting people in.

Looking at the pair of them, he could guess an awful lot about Phoebe’s childhood, with a mother who was clearly broken up by the loss of the men in her life. But instead of that sudden insight making Patrick want to back off, he only admired Phoebe more. And it only made him believe all the more strongly that if anyone deserved some real romance in her life it was Phoebe.

Patrick wasn’t sure how he was going to do it yet—the walls Phoebe had set up around herself seemed as solid as the tree stump he was working on—but he was determined to get through to her. Besides, he’d always thrived on challenges.

Working to whittle down the stump to a more manageable size, when Patrick finally looked up from his hard work, he was amazed by the transformation of the garden under Phoebe’s hands. He could hardly believe it was the same overgrown wilderness they had begun the day with.

Looking back at the remains of the stump, he considered calling over his brother for help. But then he had a better idea.

“Phoebe, Angela, would you give me a hand with this?”

“Sure,” Phoebe said as she and her mother headed over to help. “What do you need?”

BOOK: The Wedding Dance
12.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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