Under Currents Page 63

But the nursery came first, and since Joy of Best Blooms had already talked to her good friend Patsy Marsh, she wanted to talk about the planned terraces, the plantings.

The stop she’d estimated at ten minutes took closer to thirty, but she got what she needed. She hit the hardware store and another conversation. It was the South, after all, and she’d learned to roll with it.

Though she’d intended to go straight to the bungalow, when she saw Emily’s truck outside of reception, she pulled in. To check the rock garden, she took a winding route, gave a nod of satisfaction before winding back to the front door.

Inside, Emily crunched her phone between her ear and shoulder while she keyboarded. “Happy to, and I’ve got you booked, party of four, for tomorrow at eight a.m. That’s right. Yes, they’ll take good care of you. You’re welcome. Bye now.”

After pulling the phone free, she rolled her shoulders, tick-tocked her head.

“You should get a headset.”

“I keep meaning to.”

“Emily, your hair!”

Biting her bottom lip, Emily lifted a hand to her newly shorn bob. “Is it awful?”

“I love it. Seriously. It looks fun and breezy, and … you got some highlights,” Darby added as she moved closer.

“A few, just to perk it up.”

“It perked. It’s a great cut. Who did it? I’ve been trimming my own since I got here because, well, it’s hard to trust somebody with your hair. But I’d trust whoever gave you that cut.”

“Sarrie Binkum, down at Reflection Salon.”

“Do they do pedicures? I’m doing my own there, too. My work’s hard on the feet.”

“They sure do.”

“I’ll try them out. And I’m holding you up.”

“You’re not. In fact, you’re just in time, because I need a break. Come sit outside on my very pretty patio.”

“Five minutes.”

“That’s about all I’ve got, too. Time enough for a cold drink and a breath.”

Back in the kitchen, Emily poured tea, making the ice in the glasses crackle. “I was going to head over to Bungalow Eight, just to let you know the guests coming in tomorrow asked if they could check in at noon. Any way you can be finished?”

“I’ll make sure we are.”

“You’re a wonder, Darby.”

After carrying out the tea, Emily sat at the little table with its cheerful striped umbrella. “I’m taking part of our five minutes to repeat what I told you up at Zane’s the other night. I love what you’ve done, and you were right. I do look out the window and smile. Plus, bookings are up.”

With a sigh, she looked around. “I needed to get this place, and myself, out of the rut. You kicked us out of it.”

“And I’ll repeat my appreciation for the referrals. I got two new clients today.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“One of them is the family that lives in Zane’s old house.”

Emily paused, then nodded slowly. “I see. You’re worried that’s going to be a problem for Zane, for Britt, for the rest of us.”

“Yes. Well, I don’t think Britt, as she’s my referral. The client’s Dr. Charlene Ledbecker. She works at the urgent care at the clinic.”

“Good for Britt,” Emily stated.

“It couldn’t have been easy for her to make a connection with the woman who owns the house where so much happened to her.”

“Britt’s got spine. So does Zane.”

“I know it, but—”

“It’s a house, Darby. It wasn’t the house that hurt those children. Do you want my advice?”

“It’s why I’m here.”

“Talk to Zane, get it off your mind.”

“I will. I wanted to talk to you, too.”

“It’s a house.” Emily patted Darby’s hand. “I think of Eliza in it once in a while. Those moments when you can’t sleep, and your mind starts roaming to dredge up every mistake you ever made.”

“I know those moments.”

“I can wish I’d made more of an effort to be close to her, but then, would it have mattered? Would that have changed anything? I think of her now, once in a while, wonder if I should reach out to her. Our parents aren’t getting any younger, and there’s been no contact in nearly twenty years. Should there be? I’m never sure if that would matter or change anything.

“But I know Zane and Britt deserve my unwavering support and loyalty. So I don’t reach out.”

She shrugged it off. “I like seeing him happy. You make him happy.”

“I think we were both ready, both at a point where we were ready to be happy. Being happy with someone’s like a bonus. Now I’m going to go finish your bungalow.”

“I’ll come down and look as soon as I can.”

“Sit,” Darby said as Emily started to get up. She came around behind, rubbed Emily’s shoulders. “Finish your tea, smell your flowers.”

“Five more minutes.” Reaching back, Emily squeezed Darby’s hand. “Stay happy.”

“That’s the plan.”

 

* * *

 

Zane wasn’t sure what he was in for when Darby texted she planned to cook dinner. Especially since she put cook in scare quotes.

Still, he figured if it bombed, they had frozen pizza or canned ravioli.

When he walked in after a pretty damn good day, she stood in the kitchen chopping a bunch of stuff he assumed meant salad. And whatever she had in the oven smelled really okay.

A bottle of wine stood open on the counter with two glasses.

“This here’s what I’m talking about. My woman making me a hot meal.” He exaggerated the southern, gave her a light slap on the butt to punctuate it.

When she just rolled her eyes and laughed, he bent down to kiss the infinity symbol on the back of her neck. “What’s the occasion?”

“Besides being Tuesday? We finished the next-to-last bungalow and started prep work for your water feature, and I signed two more clients.”

“Big day. Sounds like I should make you a hot meal.”

“Your turn next. But you sure could pour that wine.”

He liked coming home, finding her there. Maybe he got some twinges about just how much he liked it, but one look at her and they died away.

He supposed he could work up some twinges over how easily the twinges died away, but that edged into paranoid territory.

“So, what are we having?”

“This very healthy salad, which includes some of your own nasturtium.”

“I have nasturtium? What is it?”

She tapped her finger at the bold orange and yellow flowers on the counter.

“Flowers?” That one set him back. “We’re eating flowers?”

“They’re not only edible and pretty, but very tasty—as are their leaves, which are already in the salad.”

“Okay, but you go first.”

“Coward.” She plucked a petal off a flower, popped it in her mouth. “Yum.”

“Uh-huh. What are we eating besides flowers?”

“The amazing mac and cheese I made—not from a box, but from scratch.”