46. ~ Char ~
CHAPTER 46
~ Char ~
T wo days. I had just two days before my deadline to pay back everything I owed to Estelle. I was possibly on track, but it was impossible to know since karma math wasn’t like regular addition. It compounded. It dipped and flowed.
But I had a feeling I might get my account with Your Fairy Godmother to zero by Thursday’s deadline. Or at least close enough that I wouldn’t be hauled into a magical court or whatever Estelle had called it.
Or so I hoped. I’d studiously not thought about it for two whole months, focusing instead on doing what I could.
And now it was all coming together like the final scenes of a book.
“The biggest trees go over there, near the playground. The area’s marked out.” I directed the idling tree planter, then turned to the man with the flatbed loaded with benches.
Samantha’s stepmom’s gardening club had donated trees from one of their tea fundraisers, which was incredible because who knew trees over a foot tall were so expensive? At the moment, the club was standing in their gardening couture next to their luxury cars, which were stuffed with potted flowers, and giving the dirt lot looks of apprehension.
Josie and her spreadsheets were supposed to be here, directing everyone. Where was she?
I gave the bench man directions, then stood back. So much was going on. Too much for one day. Top soil had been delivered and raked out, my hands aching with blisters. Anywhere someone went, they trailed black dirt with them. The paths and basketball court were already coated with the stuff. But, I reminded myself, trees were going in along with benches. Flower beds next. The fence was partway finished. Sod was tomorrow.
Then it would be done. Complete.
The biggest issue was keeping the kids out of the park while the big machines worked.
Although it was a Tuesday, so at least many of them were at daycare or school. Still, the number of parents and small kids that had come by the park today was astounding. It still surprised me how many children were tucked away in my old, tiny neighbourhood. I supposed it made sense, though. The families were young, just starting out. Where else could you afford in the city, other than Everstone?
“How’s it going?” Tamara asked, sliding on a pair of brand-new work gloves. I gave her a giant hug, happy to see her. She’d taken most of the day off from her new job as an educational assistant in order to be here.
“It’s coming together. Did Kade come?”
“He couldn’t get off work. He says hi.”
“Hi back.”
Tamara surveyed the lots. “I guess in two days we find out if this all worked.”
“Cross your fingers for me.”
“Where’s James?” she asked, gazing around the park.
“Also at work.” I felt a flicker of fear due to his absence, my mind leaping to the erroneous, persistent assumption that Estelle’s magic had finally worn off on him and he was in the process of leaving me. My old wishes no longer mattered where he and his love were concerned. It was real, and he was really mine and here to stay. But it was so hard to retrain my mind to remember that, to fully trust this blissful reality. I was still learning to love with all of my heart, and with nothing held back, and some days were easier than others.
“He’s at the new one already?”
“No, this is an event at the Saddledome. He’s doing security. He starts the new one tomorrow.” He’d landed a very cool job with a mapping company. “I think he’ll enjoy it. He said he wasn’t sure about sitting at a desk, but it sounds like once he’s been there a few months, and knows the map software a bit better, he can go out in the field for some projects. Honestly, it sounds perfect for him.” The right blend of homey routine and adventure.
Personally, this week, I was avoiding work to spend more time here at the lot or working on last-minute details or paperwork. It was annoying Joan, who’d lined me up for a few different temp jobs this week in hopes of dazzling me with variety. I think she could tell my heart wasn’t in it any longer.
The man installing the benches had made us a chess table, even though we hadn’t ordered it due to a lack of funds. He sent us to check it out, letting us climb onto the back of his flatbed truck.
“How did he know we wanted one of these?” Tamara asked, running a hand over the table’s surface. It was beautiful. The top was alternately covered with black-and-white, one-inch by one-inch tiles. It was similar to the table in her plans, only more intricate.
“The park can’t afford this,” I said, well aware that my latest pay cheque would be covering the last few costs that donations and grants hadn’t covered.
“He’s donating it.”
I met Tamara’s brown eyes, and she pulled me into a warm hug as we sniffed back tears of gratitude. She rubbed my back, knowing I was completely overcome by the man’s generosity.
She released me so we could admire the table again. “This is exactly what I had in mind.” Tamara dragged a finger over the etched design that ran along the table’s wide metal edging. “Even better with this detail.” She stopped and bent over, peering at the artwork. “Are those…”
Tamara straightened, and we looked at each other. We bent over it again. The table maker had added fairies. They were among cute, squat mushrooms and tiny doors set into tree trunks all along the edge of the table.
“Estelle?” I whispered.
We both looked up as though expecting to see her waiting off to the side in her leather pants and bright red hair. She was nowhere to be found. But from our new vantage point on the truck, the difference in the old lots was astounding.
“Wow,” I breathed.
No more weeds. No warehouse. No garbage. No sagging chain-link.
I looked at the street and beyond. Was it my imagination, or was there less garbage in the streets than before? Had the windows been washed on the empty brick buildings? Even the one James and I cracked had been fixed.
I glanced back at the park. Community pride?
Was it already starting to happen in Everstone?
The park looked great. And this was such a perfect, central spot for it. And sure, there was a heck of a lot of topsoil being tracked around, but there were several leafed out trees already in place, a playground, a half-basketball court, a doggy area, and even concrete paths that wound through it all. Soon there would be fencing, flowers, and grass. There’d be places to sit as well as a chessboard.
It was going to be perfect. A small community neighbourhood park.
We might even finish a full day ahead of schedule.
My eyes dampened as I realized that the lots were starting to look exactly like Tamara’s drawing.
We’d done it.
I hugged Tamara tightly, overcome again by everyone’s generosity.
“I want to move back,” I said.
She swayed me from side to side, her arms clamped around me. “I knew you could do it!”
“Did not.”
“Didn’t I tell you you’re a small-town girl at heart?”
“I still don’t see that.”
She released me, pointing to my chest. “The smalltown spirit is right here. Caring, kindness, community and,” she paused dramatically, her tone turning triumphantly teasing, “a big ol’ squishy heart!”
* * *
On Wednesday morning, the sod had arrived an hour early. I was alone. And I had about a million rolls of heavy grass to lay out over a half-acre, and tomorrow was my repayment deadline over at Your Fairy Godmother. I needed to get a move on, and trust that volunteers had heard my online call-out and would appear. If not, at least the GAL PALs would be coming by later on.
Next week, my life was going to look totally different. And not just because I’d have the park off my hands. Sally and Otto had returned home. I had a lead on an apartment. Joan was miffed at me for taking another day off to work on the park, and we both knew it was time for me to find something else. James was starting his new job today, and the training was taking him to Edmonton, meaning he was gone from summer’s early dawn to summer’s late dusk.
By next week, would I be penniless, jobless and homeless?
Or would I somehow have it all?
Sighing, I pushed my work gloves deeper onto my hands and inhaled the city and the scent of rolled up grass on the pallets beside me. I heaved a piece of turf off the top of a nearby pallet. It was heavier than I’d expected, and I hugged it to my body, not caring if the front of my t-shirt was a wall of dirt by the end of the day. I dropped the sod at the corner and walked back for more. Then, when I had a small pile, I got down on my hands and knees and began rolling out the pieces, staggering the rows, my mind blissfully blank as I got into the physical routine.
No thinking about James and how we were indeed better when we were together. No thinking about how hard these past two months had been with my whole being poured into the park.
I was almost there. Almost done.
Next week, it was all me. All James.
I could barely wait.
* * *
I worked steadily all day, volunteers coming and going to help me lay out the sod, the sounds of happy kids on the playground filling the air with happiness. Bliss. I loved it. There was something so wonderful about hearing children play, laugh, and shriek.
Behind me, the expanse of bright green grass grew, eating up the massive empty stretch of dirt.
By six, I was utterly exhausted, the grass almost finished. Someone had shown up with two pizzas and a case of cold water. As we ate, more people appeared. Then a few more. As people got off work, they put on their grubbies and came to help. Several of them helped while their kids played in the playground and I felt pride for creating a green space in the middle of the city for people to gather. But most of all, this was Everstone’s park, and always would be. And creating something like this, I felt like I could do anything.
I sat in the shade, sucking back water, my limbs heavy with exhaustion, watching the community of Everstone interact with each other. Gabby and Josie had come to sit beside me, having come straight from work to lay sod with me, Samantha, and Tamara.
Two men introduced themselves, then gestured toward the playground where young women were sitting on a bench, watching their kids play. I smiled and caught Tamara’s look. For a moment, a current of understanding passed between us. This was it, right here. Community. People getting to know their neighbours. If you knew them, you cared. And if you cared, the entire world opened up to kindness.
Tamara leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “You’ve done a good thing.”
“We all have.”
I felt a stab of sorrow just under my ribcage that James wasn’t here to see it all come together. He’d worked so hard on the park, and he deserved the satisfaction of seeing it completed. All day I’d expected to see him and his strong shoulders in that tight tee of his coming to help out.
All day I’d been disappointed.
Even though I knew today was the first day at his new job, and he had a ten-hour safety training session up in Edmonton, which was a three-hour drive, each way.
Clearly, he wasn’t going to magically show up, but it hadn’t kept me from watching for him.
“I’ve been doing that payback chant thing while I’ve been working,” Tamara said, looking out over our progress. “You know, to send all of today’s good deeds toward your debt with Estelle.”
“Aw. Thank you.”
“I don’t think that would work,” Josie said sagely.
“Yeah, but there’s no harm in it,” Tamara protested.
“What happened to your arm?” I pointed at the dirt-stained bandage peeking out from Josie’s long-sleeve shirt cuff. I’d been meaning to ask since she’d shown up earlier.
“Oh?” She tugged the sleeve up, revealing a white bandage, then shoved it back down. “Burned myself.”
“It looks nasty!” The edge of the bandage had been stained green. “You should get that looked at. It might be infected.”
Josie’s cheeks turned pink. “No, no. That’s an herbal remedy from the medicine man.”
“Medicine man?”
“I work with him.”
“Doing inventory?” This was seriously not adding up. What was she and her LARPing friends up to in the mountainous woods, anyway? Things were getting weird.
She looked me dead in the eye. “Yes, inventory.”
I relented, something still feeling off about her wound. “Well, I hope it heals okay.”
“I’m sure it will.”
Samantha was nearby, arguing with someone on the phone, waving a hand around, looking like her usual million bucks in her poshly patched overalls. Gabby was near the street, joking with Lamonte and giving his dark arm a touch, push or tug whenever she had half an excuse. She was crushing hard. Obviously, living with the man hadn’t burst her bubble of infatuation.
“I think we’re going to get this done tonight,” Tamara said.
Done.
The word felt like a mirage after days spent in the gruelling heat of a desert.
A man was walking toward us, who reminded me of our old landlord, Randy. Except this guy didn’t have a bad comb-over and seemed slimmer. He was also carrying a shoebox.
“Ladies,” he said, stopping in front of us.
“Randy?” It was actually him.
“This is nice. A park so close by.” He gave me a sly look. “Now I can raise my rents.” My jaw dropped, and he laughed. “Just kidding.”
I didn’t think so.
“Randy, get out of here,” Gabby said, rejoining us. In the distance, I could see Lamonte getting into his Jeep.
“This came for Samantha. I thought I saw her when I drove by earlier.”
“You can leave it with us,” Tamara said, snatching the box.
We watched Randy move across the park, sliding an arm around the waist of a woman about his age, giving her a peck on the cheek.
We all screeched, falling over each other as we giggled and stole extra peeks at our old landlord, and what apparently was the new love of his life.
“Well, good for him,” Samantha said, coming back to our circle. She didn’t have a speck of dirt on her.
“How have you been here for two hours and you’re still clean?” Gabby complained, scrubbing her hands down the front of her dirty jeans, like it would make her as clean and tidy as Samantha. “Haven’t you been helping?”
Samantha glowered. “Um, yeah . I’ve been doing tons.”
“Well?” demanded Josie.
“All of this grass is going to die if it doesn’t get watered.”
I felt my jaw loosen. Oh, no.
“But it’ll be the city’s by then,” Tamara said. She patted the shoebox. “Also, Randy left this for you.”
Samantha’s eyes lit up. “I thought these were lost in the mail! I must have used our old address.” She ripped open the box, pulling out a pair of old-fashioned, stitched leather shoes.
“Are those used?” Gabby asked, mouth creased into a look of disgust. “That’s disgusting. Think of all the foot germies.”
“They’re gorgeous,” Samantha said, trying one on. “Vintage.” She pointed a toe, showing off the shoe. They were nice, even if odd and old. She took the shoe off again and put it back in the box. “You have to water in the sod or it’ll be dead in two days. Less if it’s hot.”
“It’ll die that fast?” I asked. That couldn’t be right. I scanned the two lots. How could we even water this much grass? And why hadn’t I thought about that? I’d been so focused on getting this done and handed over that I hadn’t considered anything beyond the time I’d be freeing up to spend with James.
I did some mental calculations. Tomorrow was Thursday, which was my deadline with Estelle, and I also had an appointment to turn the park over to the city.
A park with already dying grass.
The kids would be back to playing in dirt within a year. “Ugh. What do we do? How do we water all of this?”
Samantha waved her phone. “Taken care of. Forget Estelle or whoever. I’m your real fairy godmother.” She gave a flirty little twist of her torso and winked at me over her shoulder while blowing a kiss. “The city’s coming by with a watering truck in forty minutes as an act of good faith, since the property isn’t actually theirs yet. So, I suggest you get the rest of this sod in place before he turns it into a mud pit. Also, he’s off shift at eight-thirty, and won’t water a second past then.”
* * *
As the city’s truck sprayed water over the park in the waning sun, I resisted the strong temptation to run through the spray to clean myself off.
The volunteers and families with children were starting to trickle home as the sun lowered in the sky, filled with tired smiles and goodbyes.
It had been nice spending the evening with my friends again. I sagged onto one of the new benches, admiring the park. My body ached, and I wondered if I’d even be able to drag myself out of bed tomorrow morning.
From my back pocket, my phone rang, and I stretched a protesting arm to retrieve it.
It was Joan. Surely to nag me into working tomorrow even though I’d booked it off?
“Hello?”
“Char? Something unusual has come in, and I think you’d be perfect for it. Can I put your name forward?”
My heart sank. When it came to temping, I felt so done. C’est fini , as the Québécois would say.
“I know, you’re looking for change,” Joan said hurriedly when I remained quiet. “And this isn’t temping.”
That made no sense. She ran a temp agency.
“Great benefits and pay. It also follows your interests. It’s an international company who’s opening a hub here. They saw you on the news and tracked you down to my agency somehow. They’ve requested an interview.”
“They saw me on the news?” I pushed myself more upright, every muscle in my body protesting. The only time I’d ever been on the news was when the police said I’d helped identify genuine artifacts in the museum’s pottery heist.
“Yes, and they were impressed. They need someone who knows about pottery artifacts or collectables or some-such, and is willing to travel.”
“But…” I began, feeling the pull of interest. There was a job like that opening up here? In Calgary? What were the chances? “Okay, you have to tell me every detail.” Working with Joan for as long as I had, I knew she had some super serious skills when it came to upselling a job and making it sound exotic and niche. I worried this was truly a retail position in disguise.
“I don’t have them yet. Can I set up an interview for you for tomorrow?”
“Uh. Sure?” What was the harm?
“I’ll arrange it all. Be in touch.”
She ended the call, and my mind whirled with questions.
“Hey,” Samantha said, coming over to join me, dusting dirt off her butt. “This looks really good. Like a real park.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“It’s missing something, though.”
I frowned, my mood darkening. “I don’t want to add anything more to this project. I’m done. I’m exhausted. I’m ready to sign it over to the city. Oh, crap.” I pulled out my phone and texted Joan, asking for her to request a Friday interview instead. Tomorrow was booked up with lawyers, the land office, the city, and lots of paperwork. Okay, so I’d probably just be signing one or two documents to turn the park over to the city. But it felt like it should be a full day affair. Especially if I was too stiff and sore to move.
Samantha laughed and gave me a playful shove. “No. This.” She held up a shiny new loonie.
“What are you talking about?” For a second I thought she was going to stick the one-dollar coin in the sidewalk like some Canadian hockey arenas did at centre ice for good luck. But the park’s sidewalks were already set, meaning she couldn’t press it into the surface. Anyway, somebody would likely chip the concrete to dig out the loonie, leaving a hole in our pretty new sidewalks.
“Bury a coin to bring good luck,” Samantha said, traipsing over to the shade of a new tree. Earlier, she’d given the playground kids the box from her new shoes for some game they were playing. Since then, she’d been carting them around by their laces. Now she tied them together and slung them from a branch above her before bending to scoop a hole in the dirt by the tree trunk and planting the coin.
Beside me, the man working the water truck’s sprayer stopped to watch. “Did she just plant a coin?”
“Yes.”
“Yee like leprechauns?” he called out to Samantha as she straightened from her work. His accent was a thick Irish one, and Samantha bounded to his side, her new shoes completely forgotten.
“Why?” she asked, eyes sparkling with mischief and intrigue.
“Don’t forget your shoes,” I muttered, but her focus was on the man beside me.
“You just buried a coin, dinnya?”
“It’ll bring the park luck.” Samantha squared her shoulders and flicked her recently dyed blue streak behind her ear.
“It’ll also summon some wee leprechauns on St. Patrick’s Day.”
“They’re not real.” She narrowed her eyes, glancing at me for confirmation. What did I know about leprechauns? And was she finally starting to believe in the magical world? I’d have to remember to ask her later.
“I don’t make up the legends,” the man claimed, hands out in surrender.
“Well, whatever. St. Patrick’s Day isn’t for another eight months. I’m hardly worried about it.”
“Like I said, I don’t make up the legends,” the man repeated like a warning.
I eyed the tree where Samantha had buried the coin. She might not yet believe in the magical world, but I knew I believed in the possibility of leprechauns.
* * *
Body aching, I cuddled under one of Sally’s fluffy blankets in front of the TV after my long day of finishing the sod. The park was done. The fencing was in. The flowers looked pretty. The grass was watered.
I was done. I still couldn’t believe it. It felt surreal.
Tomorrow, I’d take care of transferring the land to the city. On Friday, I had a job interview. And next week, thanks to my bank account’s overdraft, I could move into a newly created, sunny, above-the-garage suite over at the edge of Kensington, not that far from James, the downtown, or Sally and Otto’s.
Otto was clicking through the channels, waiting for the late-night news to come on. Us watching together had become a nightly habit with him in his favourite armchair and me on the couch. I was going to miss this. Hanging out with James’s dad seemed to fill a void I hadn’t even realized existed.
There was something grounding about living here with Sally and Otto and becoming part of their routines. Maybe because there were enough unexpected moments where they took off on road trips, or suddenly knocked out a wall to join two rooms together like they’d done as soon as they’d got back.
Otto increased the volume on the TV as the news started. “There was a teaser about your park.”
“Really?” I leaned forward, kicking the fuzzy cocoon off me, as if I’d be able to hear better without it. I pressed my palm against my hot cheeks, barely breathing.
I’d given the local television crew a soundbite when they’d popped by, but they’d made it sound like it wouldn’t air as there was some bigger international news blowing up at the moment.
The front door opened, and James called out a hello.
I popped up; the TV forgotten.
“In here,” Otto said.
“Got you this.” James passed me a strawberry milkshake from Peter’s after kissing me hello, one arm squeezed tight around my waist like he’d missed me.
I gasped in delight, taking the chilly cup in hand. “My love language!”
“Your love language,” he confirmed, leaning in to give me a more heated, lingering kiss that made me want to drag him away for more privacy.
“Also my love language,” I murmured, like a contented cat who’d found the perfect sunbeam.
“Keep it down!” Otto grumbled, cranking the volume.
“Come watch,” I said, pulling James over to the couch. “There’s a bit about the park!”
The clip finally played, and Otto hollered to Sally, “The kids’ park is on!”
The kids. I was part of ‘the kids,’ and it felt great.
I leaned into James, who was working his way through his chocolate shake. The soundbite was good. I looked exhausted and grubby from laying the sod. But even I could tell how happy and proud I was.
Sally beamed at me from the doorway. “I’m going to bake you some celebratory cookies. Confetti chip with macadamia nuts.” She reached into the room, giving my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, her eyes damp with pride.
“Well done,” Otto said, looking at me like I’d impressed him. “Really impressive.”
“Thanks. I didn’t do it alone. James helped a lot.”
“I know. But we also know how hard you worked.”
“Yeah.” I felt my eyes well from the recognition. From the feeling of being part of their circle, of feeling like family. Someone who they wanted to share the triumphs with, the people who’d backed me and housed me when I’d needed it the most.
I tipped my head back, sniffing discretely as Otto’s attention went back to the television. James wrapped an arm around my shoulders, drawing me in, placing a tender kiss on the crown of my head.
It didn’t really matter what next week brought. I could be broke, homeless, and jobless, and I wasn’t scared. Because now I had it all. All that mattered.
Family.
Coziness.
Home.