Chapter 8
A s soon as Ivy hung up after speaking to Rosie, Poppy pushed open the kitchen door.
“I overheard that, Aunt Ivy. I think hiring the garden club teens is a fantastic idea. I bet the Spring Fling committee would see that as a positive step.”
Ivy smiled at her niece’s enthusiasm. “Shelly isn’t fond of the idea, though I hope she changes her mind. We don’t have any time to waste. I’m sure there are things the kids can help with, even if Shelly doesn’t like it. As soon as school is out for the day, I’ll go there to meet Rosie.”
“I’m going to talk to Aunt Shelly,” Poppy said, striding toward the rear door.
“I wouldn’t—” Ivy stopped. It was too late. She peered out the window, expecting a blow-up. While she watched Poppy and Shelly gesturing to each other outside, she filled the coffee pot. She needed an extra jolt of energy for this ordeal. For good measure, she placed leftover muffins on a plate.
Within minutes, Poppy returned with Shelly, who was still muttering.
Scowling, Shelly said, “Poppy made me promise to listen to what you had to say.”
“Okay, let’s try this again.” Ivy poured coffee and perched on a stool at the stainless-steel island. Shelly sat across from her, her jaw set. Maybe after the heart-to-heart conversation they’d had earlier, her sister would soften and reconsider.
“I’ll be quick,” Ivy said. “I’m leaving shortly to meet the teacher Leilani referred me to for the garden club.”
“A bunch of high schoolers?” Shelly narrowed her eyes. “I told you I’m not interested. Have you lost your mind?”
“Hear me out,” Ivy said, touching her arm. “Those kids care for the plants at Hidden Garden for Leilani and Roy all winter long.”
“I wonder how that’s working out for them?” Shelly looked doubtful.
“They have a lot of hands-on experience,” Ivy said.
“Leilani wouldn’t have suggested it if the kids weren’t working out.
And Rosie thinks it would be beneficial for the teens to gain experience and leadership.
Seriously, Shelly. They’ll help speed up our project at a fraction of the price that company wanted to charge us. ”
“No one is leading that project but me,” Shelly said, reaching for her coffee and a blueberry muffin.
Ivy watched Shelly over the rim of her coffee cup.
“What do you think the committee will think of this idea?” Poppy asked.
“They should see it as a positive step,” Ivy replied. “I’m honestly concerned we’ll run out of time.”
“Here’s a thought,” Poppy said, her eyes flashing with excitement.
“We get the kids involved, call it community engagement, and make it look fun. From a marketing standpoint, that’s pure gold.
I can build a whole story and campaign around it.
Volunteer days, before-and-after photos, the story of restoring these historic grounds for the first Spring Fling.
People will love it. They’ll become invested in the process and want to see it first-hand. ”
Ivy could see that Poppy was getting through to Shelly.
“Imagine how proud their parents will be when they tell their friends that their children helped create a masterpiece. Like our parents used to rave about you. Remember when you worked at that resort one summer before your last year at high school? You wrote about that on your college entrance essays. Those kids deserve a chance like you had.”
Shelly stared into her cup for a moment. “Okay, we can interview them. But nobody touches my master plan. I have mapped every planting bed, every tree placement—everything. No freelancing from those kids allowed. They follow my instructions or they’re gone. I don’t care if they meant well.”
“So noted,” Ivy said, feeling hopeful. “This will be such a special project for the students.”
“You know I can’t manage them all on my own.” Shelly pressed her lips together.
“We’ll be there with you,” Poppy said, brightening. “And maybe Leilani or Roy could stop by for tutorials. They already know them.”
“That might work,” Shelly said slowly.
“The garden club kids who work at the nursery already know the basics,” Ivy added, seizing on that. Her sister looked like she was warming to the idea.
Shelly nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose they would.”
“Of course.” Ivy ticked off items on her fingers. “I’ll bet they’re familiar with soil prep, caring for plants, and adjusting irrigation.”
Shelly made a face. “Once we get the irrigation set up, that is.”
“We’ll figure that out,” Ivy said. “Come with me to the high school. The teacher wants to meet us before she recommends us to her students.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Shelly said begrudgingly.
Getting her sister on her side would be a great relief. Ivy would talk to Leilani and Roy again, as well as the committee members. This could work.
Or be a disaster. But since they were already on a course for calamity, she was willing to take the risk.
“The plan is coming together,” Poppy said, giving Ivy a high-five. “That only leaves the irrigation.”
“I’m working on that,” Ivy said, although she didn’t know how much she could negotiate with the largest irrigation company around. “We’ll get that done before fresh plantings go in.”
If she could talk her brothers and their families into pitching in as well, they might make the deadline. But the irrigation system was a large expense hurdle to overcome.
Ivy took a final swig from her cup and placed it in the sink. “Come on, Shelly. Let’s go meet the kids.”
“Okay, but if they don’t know the difference between a weed and a seedling, we’re leaving.” Shelly grabbed her straw hat from the hook by the door.
“Fair enough. I’ll drive.” Ivy picked up the orchid she’d bought at the nursery.
Summer Beach High School was near the village, its low stucco buildings shaded by mature oaks and a row of jacarandas that would soon drip with majestic purple blossoms. Ivy parked in the visitor lot and reached for the orchid.
Shelly eyed the plant. “That looks suspiciously like a bribe.”
“It’s a gesture of goodwill.” Ivy put her arm around it. “Leilani said Rosie had been admiring this one.”
“Smart move.”
They found the front office and signed in.
An aide walked them through an open breezeway to the back of the campus, past the gym and the art building, to a fenced area Ivy hadn’t known existed.
A lean-to greenhouse fashioned from corrugated polycarbonate panels was surrounded by raised beds and fruit trees in wooden boxes.
A small composting station occupied a corner. The area was tidy and well organized.
Shelly slowed her step. “Impressive. This is not what I pictured.”
“What did you picture?”
“A few pots of marigolds and a science fair poster.”
A woman emerged from the small greenhouse wiping her hands on a canvas apron. She was probably in her early thirties, with short auburn hair and sunglasses hanging on a cord around her neck. She stepped through the garden beds with ease.
“You must be Ivy,” she said, extending her hand. “Rose Gardner. Call me Rosie. Leilani speaks very highly of you both.”
“This is my sister, Shelly. She manages all the landscaping and gardens at the inn.”
Rosie shook Shelly’s hand, studying her. “Leilani told me you studied horticulture and worked in New York. And I’m impressed with how you brought back the grounds at the inn. The place was run-down when you acquired it. I imagine you have a big plan for the Spring Fling.”
A smile spread across Shelly’s face. “It will be amazing.”
“And this is for you.” Ivy handed Rosie the orchid. “In appreciation of letting us stop by and share our thoughts.”
“The school also appreciates the participation and support from local businesses and individuals.” Rosie accepted the orchid Ivy had been carrying, and her face softened when she saw the variety. “This is one Leilani had. I’ve had my eye on that.”
Ivy was pleased Rosie remembered. “She thought you’d like it.”
“She knows my taste well.” Rosie set the orchid on her desk with care. “I’m glad you came in person. A lot of people call or email and expect me to just hand over a crew. You showed up, you were honest about your situation, and you’ve offered to pay the kids fairly. That means a lot.”
“These students are impressive,” Ivy said. “You’ve built something special here.”
Rosie looked pleased. “They built it. I just teach them how to keep the weeds out of their lives. I look forward to hearing what you want to do with your property.”
They spoke a few minutes about Shelly’s plan and the challenges they faced.
Rosie motioned to the structure. “Come in. I want to show you the kids’ work before you meet them. They’ll be here soon.”
She led them through the sun-warmed greenhouse. Flats of seedlings lined the wooden stands, each batch labeled by students. There was an assortment of herbs, native plants, succulents, and a section of vegetables that included heirloom varieties Ivy didn’t recognize.
But Shelly did. She stopped at a bench of young plants. “Who started these from cuttings?”
“One of my students. She has a real instinct for propagation.” Rosie opened the back door of the greenhouse, and they stepped out into a demonstration garden that wrapped around the south side of the building. “This is our outdoor classroom. The garden club plants and maintains everything.”
Ivy watched Shelly inspect raised beds watered with drip irrigation. Native grasses bordered a gravel path, and a small citrus grove bore fruit on well-tended trees. It was modest in scale but thoughtfully done.
Shelly ran her hand along the edge of a raised wooden bed. “Who built these?”
“The kids. We had a local carpenter donate the lumber and show them what to do on the first one, then they built the rest.” Rosie crossed her arms. “I want to be upfront with you both. These students are talented, and some of them are considering careers in horticulture or landscape design. But they’re students first. I’m protective of their time. ”
“As you should be,” Ivy said.