Epilogue Two
DAHLIA
* Four Years Later *
I ced tea in hand, I sprawl in the shade on a chaise lounge, watching my six beautiful grandchildren tend what we refer to as “the kids’ garden”.
No matter what strange gardening methods they use, most of it is thriving. Despite the lemonade incident. And pulling daisies out to wear in their hair. And all the water fights.
My entire life has been about growth. When my husband took off, leaving me with three small daughters, I decided to grow. I took my inheritance and bought a building for us to live and work in. Now Palmer’s Potted Plants is so successful that two years ago I was able to buy this house just a few blocks from the store. Chad moved into the huge upstairs apartment above the shop with his new wife, Dawn, so there’s still someone there when we’re not at work.
It's funny… When life was going well, our shop also did well. Or was it when the store was doing well, that gave us all the energy to seek personal growth?
Whatever the case, I’m extremely grateful for two major times in my life: when I was brave enough to buy the building and go for my dream, and later…much later…that three-month span where my beautiful, talented daughters brought in their first corporate accounts and started us on the path to true stability.
More importantly, of course, they brought home the wonderful men they would all marry.
At first, I’ll admit, I was slightly concerned that these men were all a bit older. Worried that because they were established in their careers they might not have the capacity for significant growth. Yet all of them treat my daughters like queens. True partners. Equals. They are all growing and building their lives together.
“Gramma! Tell Zinnia to stop eating all the raspberries.”
“Have you tried asking her nicely yourself?” I call out.
Six-year-old Cedar turns to his cousin. “Zinnia, please stop eating all the raspberries.”
She pauses with her chubby hand half-lifted to her mouth. Then she holds the berry out to him. “Yours?” Although she’s barely three, she’s already learning that when she smiles, widening those big blue eyes, nobody can ever stay angry with her.
“Thank you.” Cedar eats it, then grins. “Now pick one for Forest.”
Forest loves raspberries too but isn’t quite coordinated enough yet to pull them free. Luckily, his cousins find it amusing to feed him because of his dramatic “Yum-mmm” sounds.
Sipping my iced tea, I grin to myself. What a perfect afternoon. My lovely daughters are off having their semi-annual “Sisters’ Saturday”, where they shop for clothes, get manicures, and have a fancy lunch in town.
They don’t know that their husbands brought the kids here. Usually, “Gardening with Gramma” happens on Sunday afternoons, right before a big family dinner.
At the moment, though, my three sweet sons-in-law have taken over my dining room with their laptops and notepads, planning a massive family vacation for next year. Instead of letting the girls do any of the work, they’re planning three options which they will then present to their wives to decide between.
All the proposed destinations feature incredible gardens, so they know I’m on board. It’s wonderful to learn about the flora of other regions. Discovering new plants can inspire fresh ideas. It’s something we’re teaching the little ones every chance we get.
“Ivy, will you please move Forest away from the dirt?”
“Sure, Gramma.” She drags him away from the raspberries to plop him in front of some ornamental grass swaying in the breeze. After a moment he reaches out to shake a fistful, helping it along.
Just like plants, families and good people will always grow.
If you’re enjoying the city of Kingsville, please also check out
Fake Summer Boyfriend
Mr. Right…As Rain
and Unlikely Match
Keep reading for a preview of
the Dirty Brothers …
Griffin
"Do you like pizza?"
Harper’s beautiful, full lips pull into a smile. "Who doesn't?"
"Well, you obviously don't know this yet, since you're new in town. But there's a law that on Monday nights, women aren't allowed into the pizza shop unless they're escorted by a local man."
Her lips press firmly together in a mild scowl. "Really. That sounds like an odd rule."
"Well, it's an odd town." I turn off the road onto the long driveway toward the house. "So, may I take you to dinner tomorrow night?"
It's nearly dark now, but I catch the flash in her eyes by the dim porch light. "Because it's the law, and you need me to try your wild mountain pizza?"
"Partly that, yes. Maybe I'm also the one-man welcoming committee around here." I park, then turn to face her as we slip our seatbelts off, my fingers slowly gliding through hers. She doesn't pull away from me, instead leaning closer, and squeezing my hand back.
"And maybe I've never seen a girl as pretty as you before, and I need to find some way to make you like me fast before some manure-covered farmer or splinter-filled lumberjack wins your heart."
Her mouth falls open as her eyes grow wide. Leaning in, my lips brush the shell of her ear as I whisper, "I'm just teasing. All the guys around here are pretty decent. Which means I'm going to have to make you fall for me before you meet any of them."
It's killing me not to kiss her, but I resist. Instead, I race around to her side and help her out, then walk her to the door. "I'll need your number, please." She watches as I enter it into my phone as Harper Lovely&Sweet . "Thanks. I'll text you tomorrow.”
Her smile is tentative, and the faraway look in her eyes makes me melt. Did I wish so hard for her to appear that she actually did?
My step forward is barely a shuffle. "Should I let you go inside, or can you stay another minute so I can tell you something really important?"
"Well, I'm still learning about this town, so I guess you're going to have to tell me everything."
My hand presses to her lower back, bringing us slowly together. "Out here in the forest, sometimes when we need to do uncivilized things we blame it on all of this wilderness and nature."
Harper leans closer. "Uncivilized in what way?"
"Oh, you know. Things like kissing the most beautiful woman I've ever seen when I don't even know her last name."