Nipped in the Bud (26 page)

I reached the end of the row where my large stall sat waiting for plants. I entered the space and thought about sitting down to mope.
But why?
What good would that do? I could choose to wallow in my troubles, or I could prepare for tomorrow and not think about the potential for jail at all.
Far healthier.
Far easier.
I chose work.

Suddenly energized, I rushed out of the space and nearly collided with Briny. Standing as tall as I did, the mascot held his or her ground. Which was it, him or her? I voted for him. A woman had never played Briny before. I sidestepped the pickle and headed for my shop. Briny kept pace, following me like a puppy dog all the way to the end of the park.

At my shop, I gathered signage, tables, and display stands and loaded them into the bed of my truck. I made three trips to the park. Each time Briny rushed forward and in silence—as a giant pickle can’t speak—he helped carry items to my booth. On the final trip, I thanked him for his help and told him I could handle things from here. I never imagined a fake pickle could pull an attitude, but he did. With bent head and shuffling feet, he clomped away as if I’d hurt his feelings but remained within eyesight.

I happily arranged laminated cubes by the entrance to my stall, humming and aligning them just so. A commotion down the way erupted, and I looked up. Lisa, Perry, and Adam, in animated conversation, hurried down the main pathway. Near my booth, Briny suddenly leaped in front of my friends and stopped their forward progress. He danced in zigzag steps, keeping them at bay.

Seeing the interest of the onlookers
grow
, I rushed over to my buddies. “Briny,
give
it a rest, and let my friends through.” I felt like Moses asking Pharaoh to let his people go.

Briny stepped back, and Lisa darted into the opening. She rushed forward like a teenage girl spotting her favorite male celebrity and grabbed me into a hug that felt like a bone-crushing effort for the little sprite. “Where have you been?”

Not waiting for an answer, she released me, and Adam took over. He held me so tight I thought I might explode from the pressure.

“I was worried. When I went to the station and neither you nor Mitch
were
there, I thought something bad had happened.”

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “I should have called you.”

He drew me closer, and as much as I wanted to hug this man, the sight of me sitting behind bars and this wonderful man on the other side flashed into my mind, and I pushed back to look at Lisa and Perry. Both faces were tight with worry.

I could understand Adam being upset because I wasn’t at the police station, but why were they so concerned? “What’s wrong with you guys?”

“We’ve been looking all over for you,” Perry scolded, in his father-knows-best tone that he usually reserved for his girls.

I shrugged. “I’ve been right here.
Setting up for tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Lisa took on Perry’s mad parent tone.

“I was busy.”

“Is that the only reason?” Lisa asked.

I waved it off. “Yeah, I’m fine.
Really.”

“Cut it out, Paige.” Lisa grabbed my arm and gave me the look that said I don’t believe you. “What’s going on?”

“Okay, fine. Stay, Briny.” I commanded the pickle as I would an unruly dog and walked back to my booth. Briny complied, and my friends tromped into the space. When we had privacy, I continued. “While I was waiting for Adam to arrive for our appointment at the police station, Mitch found out the autopsy report would be available tomorrow. He said we didn’t need to have a meeting and that this was likely my last night as a free woman.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Lisa’s voice hit the top of the scale.

“It’s not like you can do anything to stop him.” I shivered at my blunt words.

Adam inched closer and wrapped an arm around me. “You’re cold.”

I stepped away. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not,” Lisa said. “We need to talk about this.”

“No, really, we don’t.”

Lisa tipped her head at Briny, who’d advanced on us when we weren’t paying attention. “We’ll go to your apartment where we can talk without an audience.”

“Good idea.” Adam once again wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“I’ll stay here and close up for Paige,” Perry said to Lisa. “Then I’ll pick up the girls and take them home. You go with Paige. Spend the night with her.”

“Hey, come on,” I cried as they railroaded me. “I don’t want to talk about this, and I certainly don’t need a babysitter.”

“Hah!” Lisa shouted. “Yes, you do. Just look at you. Don’t know enough to tell your best friend when you need her. You need a babysitter all right. And I’m not leaving your side.”

As if I had no say in the matter, Adam hurried me into the front seat of his car and cranked up the heater. Lisa, for once quiet, climbed into the back. An uncomfortable silence filled the space as we drove to my apartment, giving rise to the feelings I’d managed to stuff down at the park. With the preparation for tomorrow keeping me busy, I’d successfully put the impending arrest aside. Now it was back, nearly suffocating me.

Even when I stepped out of the car at the base of the stairs to my apartment, the air was thick and oppressive. Climbing the steps, an overwhelming desire to flee settled over me. That is if Lisa or Adam, either one, would quit imitating a hovering copter and let me
go
. We all went into the living room. I opened my mouth to offer refreshments, but Lisa took over.

“Sit, while I make you something warm to drink,” she said and went into the tiny kitchen. “I don’t get you, Paige. This defeatist attitude is so not like you. You’ve just given up and think Mitch is
gonna
arrest you tomorrow?”

“Seems practical to me.”
I sat on the sofa next to Adam, who seemed more at ease than he had last night. “I’ve run out of time and clues. I failed.”

Lisa glanced at Adam. They shared a knowing look,
then
she stared at me. “Yeah, you did.
Big-time.
That’s what you get for thinking you can do everything yourself.”

“Well, thanks for your support when I’m down. Want to kick me, too?”

She filled a teakettle with water. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

“Okay, but I’d like it a lot better if you would do something to help me instead of berate me.”

“I wish I could help.” She left the kettle on the stove and came into the room. “That’s all Adam and I have been talking about while we looked for you. Neither one of us can do anything to keep you out of jail. Just like you can’t do anything either.” She perched on the edge of the love seat. “I guess, when you think about it, you’re right. It
is
time to give up. No one can help you.”

It was one thing admitting defeat yourself. Having your biggest supporter give in was another. I looked at Adam, hoping he would take over for my now so-called friend, but he didn’t
say
a word. “I know this seems impossible but—”

“Don’t look at Adam. He can’t help you either.”

“All right, all right,” I held up my hands. “You win. No one can help me. I’m sunk. Is that what you want to hear? I can’t control my life. Never could. I’ve just been fooling myself.”

There went that knowing look again. I wanted to box the two of them upside their heads.

Adam cleared his throat. “God can keep you out of jail.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but—”

He took my hands. His were warm and comforting. “Then why not give Him a chance. Trust Him to take care of you.”

Warm hands could not make me believe something I didn’t. “That’s oversimplifying things.”

Lisa pushed off the love seat. “That’s the thing about faith. It is simple. Easy, even. We’re the ones who make it hard.”

I wish I could report that Lisa’s incredibly obvious ploy worked. That I had one of those “ah-ha” moments when everything became crystal clear, and I gave up relying on myself. My behavior was too ingrained to let it slide so fast, so easily. I could, however, agree to try.

“Enough of the sermon, okay,” I said. “I get the point. If I trust God, this night will be a lot easier. Even if Mitch comes to arrest me, if I’m trusting God, it will be easier. I’m not ready to give over total control yet. I’ll think about it, try it even, but I’m not going to give in just like that. The two of you might as well quit ganging up on me and go on home.”

“This is
Harly
Davison, reminding you that we will be broadcasting live from Pickle Fest today with a special two-hour show. For those
Through the Garden Gate
fans out there, be sure to tune back in on Monday at nine when your host Paige Turner returns with her sage advice. Get it?
Sage, the plant?
Sage, advice?
Oh, never mind. Come by the Pickle Fest.”

Lisa, my unrelenting companion, and I filled my truck bed with multicolored containers, shrubs, and larger plants that we would display at the Pickle Fest. She seemed to sense my need for quiet, or she was exhausted. Either way, we worked in silence, and I let my thoughts wander over the long night. Lisa kept trying to drill into my head that if I finally let go and let God take charge, I’d know peace that was beyond explanation. It sounded good, like something to work toward. And I did. I had tried to trust God through the night. I gave Him the good ole college try. In the end, I came into the shop exhausted from lack of sleep and with a feeling of the guillotine ready to fall.

I had learned one lesson, though. Mitch saw to that. I could not, nor would I ever be able to control all situations that I faced in the future. From now on, I would try to take things as they came and cease striving to be in charge.

When the bed was filled with fragrant blooms, I loaded Mr. T, perched in his smaller cage, into the cab of the truck. Lisa held on to his cage as we drove to the park, where we found other merchants hard at work. I was sad to see the KALM booth, reminding me that my live show from this location had been cancelled. Still, I’d go with the flow. I had plenty of work to keep me occupied. We made several trips from the truck to the booth, much like Monday when Lisa helped me haul tools, only this time we had the added assistance of Briny.

I retrieved Mr. T from the truck and set him on a table inside the booth, out of the sun and away from little children’s hands.

“Briny, Briny, Briny,” he squawked as Briny moved away with a mob of kids dragging his sorry
pickle
self down the open area. I had no idea what was with this sudden desire of Briny’s to spend time with me, but I was growing irritated.
Especially with Mr. T calling out his name.
For some odd reason, Mr. T had taken to Briny during the fall festival and loved to say his name whenever he laid eyes on him. Maybe birds have a natural fondness for pickles.

I sure didn’t. I wanted to march over to Briny and demand he stay away.

Relax, Paige. Remember the new you. No need to control things.

At nine we opened for business, and Lisa worked alongside me, helping customers, restocking plants, and not glaring at the ever-present Briny as I did, until it was time to pick up her preschoolers.

She gathered her things to leave, stopped, and looked at Briny. “What’s up with Briny, anyway?”

“Briny,” Mr. T said.

I groaned.

Lisa laughed. “He’s been hanging around you like a bad cold. I’m surprised you didn’t go over there this morning to tell him to get lost.”

“This is the new me,” I announced with a bit too much pride in my voice. “If the silly pickle wants to follow me around all day long, let him. I don’t have to control things.”

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t wait to see how long this will last.”

Before I could come up with a witty defense for myself, my cell pealed in the ringtone I’d assigned to Adam last night when I couldn’t sleep.

“Adam,” I said to Lisa then greeted him with a warm tone. He, unlike Lisa, had complied and left me alone last night.

“I just got off the phone with Perry,” he said in an unexpectedly cheerful tone. “He has
some
news from the police station.”

“Wait. I’m putting you on speaker so Lisa can hear.” I clicked to speaker.

“Perry’s source confirmed that the autopsy report has come in and that Lawson is not ready to release the details. He also said that Lawson has no plans to arrest you.”

When Lisa’s eyes grew excited, I controlled the hope that sparked in mine. “What do you think this means?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps the report showed cause of death as something other than the shovel, and he’s looking at someone else.”

There it was, a spark flaming up. “Do you really think so?”

He sighed. “Honestly? No, but we can hope.”

Sizzle, out went the flame, and my face fell. Lisa slipped her arm around my waist.

“Paige, are you still there?” Adam asked.

Adam didn’t need to know I was down. “Yeah, I’m here. Will I still see you later?”