Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1) (2 page)

Just
as Buzz reached the porch, Lindsey and Chloe stepped outside, each
carrying a tray of lettuce baskets. “Look at them. Aren't they
perfect?” Chloe chimed.

“Lovely.
I see you're wearing matching ribbons on your aprons.” Joan had
a strict dress code; white t-shirts, light khakis and a denim apron.
No buttons or jewelery. She didn't want colorful clothes distracting
customers away from the plants and inventory. Even though she
preferred a uniform appearance, she admitted the ribbons were
adorable and decided a little distraction might actually help sell
those lettuce pots.

“Not
exactly code,” Lindsey said. “But we thought it might
help.”

Joan
stroked Lindsey's blond head. At twelve, Lindsey was the eldest of
the two girls. A budding artist, she took the lead designing floral
arrangements for the shop.

“I
believe you are correct. How about the two of you, go carry your
trays through the market and send customers over here?”

“Come
on, I'll take you girls over,” Buzz said. “Should Zack
come too?”

Chloe
giggled. “Zack won't like carrying lettuce baskets. Besides,
he's on Xbox.”

“Xbox?”
Joan hollered up the stairs and listened for a minute. When she heard
his feet shuffling, she knew he'd be down within five minutes. She
wanted Zack in the store with her where he could stay focused on
tasks instead of Xbox. She knew he'd sneak back upstairs and play
Xbox for hours if she didn't keep him busy. She started to tell the
girls to go on without him when she realized the mayor was missing.

“Roz,
where's the mayor?”

“She
should be here.”

Joan
grabbed the phone from her apron and dialed. No answer.

Zack
stepped onto the porch, blinking his wide brown eyes.

She
glanced at her son for signs of life. His neat brown hair was combed.
His t-shirt was clean and right side out, but his shoes were untied.
“Hi sweetie. I want to ask you a favor. After you tie your
shoes, will you run over to Sara Coach's house? You remember her, the
mayor?”

“Yeah.”

“If
she's home, will you ask her when she's coming to the store?”

“Sure
mom.”

He
said hi to the girls, then jogged across the park toward the mayor's
house.

Joan
turned to Roz. “We did agree we wanted her to cut the ribbon,
right?”

“Correct.”

Joan
stuffed a dangling curl into a hair clip.

“And
we followed up with a call, right?”

“We
did. And remember, we spoke to her last week and confirmed nine a.m.”

Joan
studied Roz as if she were a notebook. Whenever a plan went awry, Roz
remembered small details as if she'd photographed the plan.

“But,”
Buzz interrupted, “last night Sara was at Holden's having
coffee with Cal. I heard them say they were meeting with the
principal today. Discussing some awards program.”

“Awards
program? Are you sure they weren't talking about grand opening
program?” Roz asked.

“Positive.”

Joan
winced. Although she didn't want to hear it, she knew Buzz was right.
Not only was he the local beekeeper, but he was also Sand Hill Cove's
reporter. He never missed a story that could be broadcast on internet
radio or published in the Sand Digs newspaper.

“Damn,
how could she do this?”

“Maybe
her plate was full or she forgot.” Roz said.

“Not
good.” Joan narrowed her eyes, cradled her cell phone and
dialed the principal. No answer.

“All
right, let me think this through. Do we need her here today?”

Before
Roz could respond, Zack rushed to the porch. “Not there mom.”

“Hmm.”

“Can
I go back inside now?”

“Not
yet. How would you feel about cutting the yellow ribbon across the
gate?”

“Cool.”

“Good,
that solves the problem.” Joan looked at the girls. “You
girls get going and sell those baskets. Tell those customers the
grand opening starts in half an hour. And the coffee's free.”
Joan paused for a moment to make sure she hadn't overlook any
details. “How's that sound Roz?”

“You're
making us winners again.”

Joan
looked at her old friend. This wasn't the first time they used a
backup plan at the last moment. This time, Zack would cut the ribbon
instead of the mayor and she would give a speech then thank everyone
for their support.

She
watched the girls mingle through the Farmer's Market and hoped her
luck would continue.

The grand opening had
been a huge success. Blaine Holden had given Joan a contract to
maintain the bookstore's plants. He had been adamant that she liven
up the place. She realized it would be difficult to do so at
Holden's, the only gathering spot in town for local news, coffee and
books. Patrons knew that any discussion held at Holden's, could be
published in the Sand Digs, or broadcast over the internet radio.
Still, the merchants who frequented Holden's thought of the bookstore
as a great place for free marketing. Holden's reputation had turned
the bookstore into a lively gathering spot for news and
entertainment. Even though Joan's work could not make the coffee
house more “lively”, she could revive the plants clinging
to life in the ancient urns that greeted customers at the entrance.

The French Bakery, next to Holden's, had also contracted with her to
keep up an outdoor courtyard. When she realized the stores were four
blocks from her shop and within walking distance, she signed the
maintenance agreements. Her luck was improving.

This
morning, after all of yesterday's excitement, she needed a boost of
strong coffee. She headed to the kitchen, but Willie interrupted her.
He stared at her through the back door and blinked. She bent down and
stroked his fur until he purred. They had carried out this ritual
since the day she moved into the house. Willie had mewed from the
back steps. Unable to resist his penetrating green eyes and blue-gray
fur, she had placed a bowl of milk on the steps. After that, he
returned every morning until he finally earned a special spot inside
the kitchen where he indulged on crunchy snacks.

Joan
poured water in the coffee maker and flipped the switch. Willie
blinked his eyes. “You're such a good cat,” she cooed
while scooping beef chunks into his metal bowl. “I'm lucky to
have you, dependable fella. Not like that mayor.”

Dismissing
the memory of the mayor's letdown, she glanced at the coffee pot. It
was still dripping. Unable to wait, she carefully exchanged the glass
pot with her coffee mug.

The
first day went better than planned. The spring inventory sold. The
lettuce baskets were gone and Zack had cut the ribbon like a master
instead of the mayor.

Why
hadn't the mayor shown? Was it really forgetfulness?
When her mug
filled, she switched the pot back.

She
sighed and looked at Willie's green eyes. “What do you think
buddy? Did Sara really forget? If so, why hasn't she returned my
calls?” Willie licked his paw. “So are you telling me
it's no big deal? Hmm, I don't agree. If she forgot our ribbon
cutting ceremony, will she forget our box garden project too?”

She
recalled the day Sara listened to her talk about the benefits of the
box garden project. While unrolling the blueprints, she explained how
restoring and landscaping the weed infested area behind the library
would raise property values. The boxes would be arranged between
curved walking paths covered in pine mulch and stepping-stones. The
paths would be made wide enough that box gardeners could easily use
wheelbarrows and large tools, making maintenance less of a chore. The
project had enough aesthetic appeal that it could function as a
garden park for the city. It could also function as an environmental
science lab for students.

Sara
had certainly listened closely when they discussed the landscaping
costs. She also studied the pictures of successful community gardens
from other cities. She seemed convinced the project would be a great
replacement for the library's empty lot. She had promised to promote
the project at the next city council meeting and at the grand opening
of the Community Gardens.

Joan
grimaced.
Did I misread Sara? Do I need her to get council
approval?
Sara had grown up in Sand Hill Cove. On the other hand,
Joan was just a transplant from Michigan who had moved back to Sand
Hill Cove two years ago.

She
crunched on a piece of toast. “I could propose it myself,”
she thought as she washed down the toast with coffee. She wondered
how the gardeners who signed up to rent a box garden would feel if
she failed to launch the project. They were new customers referred by
Ivy, president of the garden club. She had to figure out how to get
the project approved or risk losing customers.

A
hoot coming from upstairs distracted her. She glanced at the clock.
Seven a.m.

“Off
the Xbox Zack,” she shouted.

Zack
hooted again.

“Time
for school.”

“Almost
ready Mom.”

Joan
spread peanut butter across his toast while she waited for him to
come downstairs. “I'll make a backup plan this afternoon, just
in case Sara forgets again,” she thought.

Zack
jumped down the stairs and sprung into the kitchen. She checked his
dress; backpack zipped, clean shirt and jeans. “He must have
scored a victory,” she told herself.

“Thanks
for toast mom.”

“You're
welcome. I take it you won from the sound of it.” Joan teased.

“You
betcha. Getting faster too.”

“You
playing a lot?”

Zack
squirmed. “Some.”

Joan
smiled at her son. She didn't mean to make him feel guilty, but his
constant Xbox playing concerned her. Since school had started, he had
become more interested in Xbox, than getting to know kids his own
age. Granted, he was helpful around the shop. Still, she questioned
whether moving so soon after his father's death had been wise. Zack
was like his father, flexible and adaptable. He absorbed information
like a sponge and that hadn't changed since the move.

“Well,
I'm glad you're perfecting the game. How about I walk you to the bus
stop? It's lovely outside.”

“Sure.”

As
they headed across Town Park, Joan noticed the grass was spongy
underfoot and the Magnolia blooms sweetened the morning air.
April
showers bring May flowers,
her
mother had always said. S
he was five years old when she
heard that rhyme for the first time and that was when her love of
plants began.

Joan
looked toward the bus stop where she heard children talking.

“Is
that Stephanie?” she nudged Zack.

“Yeah,
and Benny too.”

Noticing
Zack's frown, she patted his shoulder. “Good thing your bus
ride doesn't take long.”

Joan
waved at the kids. As soon as Stephanie glanced up, she stopped
talking to Benny and murmured hello. Benny stared at Zack, then
turned away as if searching for the bus.

She
wondered what had made them stop talking when she waved. The weather
hadn't changed. In fact, the morning was quite pleasant. Stephanie
was usually shy, unlike her vivacious and outgoing mother, Principal
Stone. Stephanie and Zack could both be shy at times. On the other
hand, Benny was not shy. In fact, Zack had called him annoying.

She
turned toward her fidgeting son. “Do you have everything? Your
phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,
call me if you need anything.”

She
watched them load the bus and decided that this morning's brush off
meant nothing out of the ordinary. It was just kids waiting for a
boring bus ride to school. She recalled getting bored with school,
especially as summer vacation and the thrill of outdoor play
approached.

After
the bus pulled away, she looked down Main Street. Cars were parked
outside Holden's. He made the best coffee she'd ever tasted and
strong too. It was so strong she thought she could smell it, even
from four blocks away. Then she looked up the hill toward the vacant
library parking lot. A few sparse blooms gave some life to the
rosebushes clinging against the library. She had chosen the empty lot
below the library to install the box gardens. The lot desperately
needed landscaping and the box gardens would be the perfect fix for
the rundown mess.

Heading
home, she looked at the park's empty gazebo and wanted to curl up and
read a book, but she had work to do. Besides, the gazebo could be
used at anytime for weddings, anniversaries or birthdays. On
weekends, the Farmer's Market also used the gazebo for guest
speakers. With her shop located just across the street from Town
Park, she could not have found a more perfect location for her garden
center. What could be better than a century old, two-story house with
a large wrap porch, a city park across the street and an acre of
garden in back. An acre she had recreated into a landscape of winding
paths and blooming gardens.

Joan
smiled and decided she could make a backup proposal that city council
would love with or without the mayor's attendance at the meeting. In
fact, it was possible that she could create such an impressive
proposal that the council would not be able to refuse the project.
She quickened her pace across the park. This was her masterpiece and
it was beginning to take shape.