Chapter Sixteen
George
The liftgate of my pickup truck squeals with rusty age as I slam it shut, the utility buckets of flowers and crates of fresh-picked produce blanketing the back end in seasonal color.
I whistle a happy tune and turn around just in time to see Kip traipsing toward me.
I immediately frown and stop what I’m doing.
“Hold up, buddy. I have a task for you when you return at lunchtime.”
I stiffen, instinctively taking a step back. “What?”
“What?” Kip mocks using an over exaggerated Southern accent. He slaps his hands against his hips, legs spread wide in a domineering stance. “Just once, it’d be great if you could say something like, ‘Hey, Kip. How’s it going? Need any help with anything today?’”
I remain passive and don’t say a word. It’s just like Kip to bait me first thing in the morning, calling me “buddy” one minute and getting snippy with me the next. It seems like his sole purpose in life is to make sure I know he’s the boss.
So much for our new friendship.
Kip harrumphs. “I’m sorry. My bad. It’s been one heck of a morning. I didn’t mean to bark at you.” He slides his arm across my shoulders and turns me toward his shiny black truck.
“You see, my truck is acting up. I think there might be a belt loose or something. Take a look at it when you get back, but don’t take too long. It’s my mama’s birthday today, and we’re treating her to an early supper.”
He eyes the flowers in the bed of my truck. “In fact…”
I fist my hands at my sides and watch as Kip confidently plucks a huge arrangement from one of the buckets similar to the one I’d gifted Madison the night before.
My premade bouquets are always a big hit with tourists and are usually the first things sold.
They’re also the most expensive items at my stand.
“I’ll take one of these to my mama as her birthday gift.”
Kip eyes the flowers with indifference, not even paying attention to the meticulous thought I’d put into my creation.
“But you better believe I won’t be telling her one of my guy friends put this together.” He playfully elbows me, his mocking laugh making me sick to my stomach.
My muscles vibrate with the urge to throw a punch. I want to smash that cocky grin right off of Kip’s face. Rip up the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. Yell at him for all the years of bullying I’ve endured.
But I know I can’t do it. Instead, I shrink into myself, my body language giving off a defeated stance, like always. No eye contact. No response, hoping I might disappear.
I rub the heel of my hand across my eyes until I see spots.
“Hey, you okay, bud?”
I open my eyes just in time to see Kip toss me the keys to his truck. “Get on it first thing when you get back. You’re the best!”
He turns and clomps away toward a group of workers ready for instructions, the pretty flowers clutched in a death grip. A few pastel petals jostle loose and dance like feathers toward the ground in an unseen current. I’m thankful for the fleeting beauty of the moment and sigh.
Shoving the keys into my back pocket, I go around to the driver’s side of my truck and get in.
With the cooler morning breeze blowing into the cab through the rolled-down window, I continue to count to one hundred.
I often use this method in an effort to calm myself down when I’m faced with a stressful situation.
It seems Kip Johnson is always a stressful situation.
“Three, two, and one,” I finish out loud with a relieved exhale.
Soon, I’m smiling again, thinking back to last night when Madison was the center of my universe.
I enjoyed spending the evening with her.
Sitting on the front porch with vanilla ice cream in pretty cut-glass bowls.
Earl lounging under the ceiling fan and my grandfather telling stories from his rocker.
It was nice seeing her relaxed, her long hair falling around her shoulders, sundress dipping just enough to show a tease of cleavage, her shoes discarded on the braided rug.
I especially liked being held in her arms, her skin sweet and soft to the touch. Lips, generous and warm.
I’d been bold and proud of myself for sharing my most private fears. And because of it, I’d sensed a deep connection to her. Especially when she said she wanted to help me.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel… relieved.
“Do you think about me?” she asked before she drove back to her hotel.
“Of course, I think about you,” I replied in a rush. A part of me unlocked when I spent time with Madison.
“I think about you too. Can I see you again tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
I liked seeing how her face lit up after my reply and the feel of her gentle lips kissing the tip of my nose.
“Good. I’ll call you after lunch when you’re not so busy with the tourists.”
True to her word, she called me in the early afternoon, and we met at my cottage, where we enjoyed lunch together and talked for hours.
At dusk, when Kip and the other farmhands were gone for the day, I held her hand and led her to a bare spot in the lavender fields where I spread my Grandma Rosie’s quilt and surprised her with a little stargazing.
The skies are rich in global clusters this time of the year, and I was anxious to point them out to her.
We watched the sky come alive with light, the surrounding summer humidity thick and sultry.
“Do you see that?” I pointed.
She followed the direction of my hand. “What am I looking for exactly?”
“It’s a star pattern called The Summer Triangle.” I traced the air in a three-point configuration, outlining three very bright stars.
“The three stars have names: Vega, Altair, and Deneb. These stars are so bright they’re even visible in a city sky like Atlanta.”
She turned her head and looked right at me. “Well, I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m home. They’ll remind me of you.”
Her words sent a shiver of joy down my spine, and I squeezed her hand. We continued to marvel at the twilight, the sweet silence not awkward but peaceful. I’d never been happier.
“George?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I help you in the morning at your stand?”
I shifted from lying on the blanket to facing her, leaning on my bent elbow. The shimmery silver moonlight shone brightly across her beautiful face, her long hair spread across the quilt like spilled ink.
“I don’t need any help. But you’re always welcome to join me. I’d love your company.”
Her immediate smile rivaled the stars and the moon. I smiled back.
The next morning, Madison arrived early and gave me a to-go cup of coffee and a generous box of blueberry muffins from the Wild Daisy Café.
“Sustenance for our morning,” she explained.
I felt like my face was going to break from my gigantic smile.
She wore shorts, athletic shoes, and a sunny yellow tank top.
Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, her face shaded by a wide-brim straw hat.
Her sunscreen scent tickled my nose, the coconut and citrus tropical and slightly sweet.
I had to pinch myself, knowing we had the entire day ahead together.
I loaded my truck, Madison standing in the back end and shifting buckets of flowers to make room for the big boxes of produce.
A few day laborers noticed, their curious looks and head turns not bothering me in the least. Thank goodness Kip was nowhere to be found, probably hunched over his desk punching numbers.
“Help me down?”
I held out my hand and helped Madison off the truck’s back end. She grinned, swiping her hands against her shorts.
“Are we ready?” she asked.
I glanced at a utility bucket of daisies, the cheery flowers spilling over in shades of white and pale pink. “Hold on,” I said.
I plucked a white flower from the bunch and gently tucked it behind her ear. She stared back at me, eyes twinkling beneath the brim of her hat.
“Now we’re ready.”
The rest of the week was a blur, each day filled with snapshots of Madison on the farm.
I hadn’t been this happy in years. I was even happier when Kip scheduled a business trip, and I didn’t have to worry about running into him with Madison by my side.
I could be myself, and the bliss I felt made me wonder if I could quite possibly run the farm alone.
By the time the weekend rolled around, Madison announced she never wanted to leave—that she’d fallen in love with farm life and spending time with me.
I could barely contain myself.
Between our stolen kisses and our uninterrupted time getting to know one another, I died and went to heaven.
By Monday morning, I’m mulling around a plan to get her to stay. She’s holed up in her hotel room on some work calls, so I go about my day like normal. But I still miss her.
One of the things I love about Monday mornings in the summertime is the local business owners who stop by. I’ve gotten to know a few over the years, warming up to them and having the same short chitchats about the weather. I like knowing what to expect from these folks who only come by once a week.
Bank worker, Miss Simpkins stops for fresh flowers to last her through the week.
The tiny woman loves decorating the lobby and teller stations with local colors to enhance the customer experience.
And then there’s Don Garcia, who picks up several crates of fresh maters for his homemade salsa, his Mexican restaurant the most popular in these parts.
But Miss Jenny from the Wild Daisy Inn is my favorite regular customer. She always brings me homemade muffins or cookies when she comes by to pick up lavender used for her hotel soaps.
Like clockwork, she arrives at half-past ten, after the breakfast rush and before the lunch crowd. I offered to deliver the lavender to her personally, but she insists she enjoys getting out for some fresh country air.
I know her big SUV by heart, and when she pulls up at ten-thirty on the dot, I anticipate what delicious treat she might have in store for me today.
“Mornin’, George,” she singsongs with a wave. Her red lips are turned up into a cheery smile from underneath her signature hat.
“Hello, Miss Jenny. I’ve got your lavender bundles right here.” I point to a box I’ve already packed, the purple stalks tied together with twine.
“Thank you.” She passes me a baggie filled with cookies. “These are cinnamon oatmeal. Made them fresh this morning.”
My grin is impossible to contain as I politely take the bag. “Thank you, Miss Jenny.”
“Do you mind loading me up?”
“Not at all.”
I set the bag of cookies to the side and hoist the bundle of lavender over my shoulder. Her car beeps when she presses her key fob, the back end rising electronically.
“There you go.” I step back and watch it close with another beep.
“Thank you, George. Say… how’s your grandfather doing? How’s Ralph?”
I look at the ground and shuffle my cowboy boots in the gravel. I never discuss my true feelings, preferring to give short snippets of very direct answers. “Okay. A little more tired these days.”
“Mmmhmm.” She pats my shoulder. “Please let me know if you ever need anything. We’re all praying for him.”
“Thank you,” I mumble. I’m suddenly not in the mood for homemade cookies anymore.
“I saw Madison this morning.”
My wide-eyes flick to Jenny’s. She grins from ear to ear. “She had some very nice things to say about you.”
I swallow hard. “Oh?”
“Yes. She’s decided to stay in town for a little longer. I think she likes you, George.”
My cheeks feel hot, and I can’t look Jenny in the eye. I want to ask her more. I want to ask her what Madison is wearing. Did she sleep well last night? Was she enjoying the flowers I gave her? Did Miss Jenny know what time Madison and I were supposed to get together today?
Her laugh brings me out of my daydream. “I think you like her too.”
I freeze.
“It’s too bad she doesn’t live around here. But maybe the two of you can plan some visits? Unless you plan on moving out of Heartsboro if your grandfather decides to sell the farm.”
My eyes snap to Jenny’s again. “Sell the farm? What are you talking about?”
“Oh.” Jenny seems confused. “Well, that’s why Madison is here, right?
She had dinner with your grandfather the first night she checked in.
And her company’s paying for her stay at the Wild Daisy.
I’m super impressed by her. She’s a girl after my own heart: professional, hard-working, gets the job done.
Although, I do hope y’all don’t sell. The last thing we need is some big manufacturer taking over our town.
But I’ve always known it’s bound to happen someday. ”
My entire body is buzzing, and my perception morphs as if I were outside my physical body. An out-of-body experience.
“George? George, are you okay?”
Beads of sweat trickle down my face, and I blink several times. In a daze, I offer Miss Jenny an over exaggerated beaming smile through gritted teeth. “Of course I’m okay.”
“Good. I know this is a trying time for you and Ralph. I’ll be praying y’all make the right decision.” She hands me twenty dollars for the bundle of lavender and gets into her SUV before I will myself to move.
“Miss Jenny?” I rap my knuckles against her window.
Her smiling face appears from behind the tinted glass as she rolls the window down with the push of a button. “Yes?”
“What’s the name of her company again? I can’t seem to remember it.”
Her red smile beams. “Global Dynamics.”