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“Yes.”
“So. We’re on for tomorrow?”
The way he said it made their 4-H session sound like a date. It wasn’t. “Four o’clock.” She turned and shook Becky’s hand. “Thanks for turning things around, kiddo.”
“You’re welcome.” Becky’s smile and the grip of her fingers said she didn’t want Lisa to go.
Lisa had no choice.
“See you tomorrow, Lisa!” Emma grasped her other hand, then hugged her around the waist, and Lisa couldn’t resist hugging her back. Such a little thing. A hug.
But hugs came with great expectations sometimes, and Lisa wasn’t free to explore those.
Really? That’s what you’re going with? Her conscience prodded. Do you think you’re the only woman who’s gone through this?
No, but she knew the statistics. Better than they were a generation ago, but not great. Not when she held women’s hands in hospice on a regular basis the past few years.
On top of that, how did a woman bring cancer and loss of body parts into casual conversation with a man who appeared interested? Right now, she was an eighth-grader, tongue-tied and awkward.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” Alex turned, still carrying Josh. The four-year-old squirmed to get down, but Alex held tight. “You can’t be in the backyard without me, bud. Not until you’re bigger.”
“Stay with him.” Lisa stopped, faced Alex and put a hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “Give him some play time. He’s been so good this morning.”
“Mostly.” Alex head-bumped the impish boy. His grin made Lisa’s heart soften with yearning. Resolved, she resisted the urge to linger.
She raised her notebook higher. “Emma and I can plug this into the computer tomorrow and see what the landscape program suggests. Then we’ll refine it together.”
“I can’t wait.”
The way he said it...
Smiling. Deliberate. With his gaze trained firmly on hers, a frank invitation to think about him for the next twenty-eight hours...
Made her realize he wasn’t the kind of guy to be put off. And she liked that about him. But she wasn’t the woman he thought she was, and there was no changing that fact. She smiled, turned and headed for her car, sure he was watching this time, because when she climbed into the driver’s seat, he’d come around the corner of the house, just to see her leave. And his smile...
Bright. Wide. Engaging. His easy gleam drew her in. Now what on earth was she going to do about that?
* * *
Alex pulled into the garden store parking lot at 4:05 p.m. Monday afternoon. The traffic off I-86 had slogged with slow-moving tourists visiting the historic villages of Allegany County. Tourists who should be mandated by law to drive faster.
He swallowed a sigh.
Was he nervous?
Of course not.
Then why—
“Hey, guys.”
Not nervous, he decided as he climbed out of the car and answered Lisa’s smile with one of his own. Anxious. Anxious to see her once more. To smile at her.
The thought surprised him because he thought no one would ever appeal to him again. Not after losing Jenny.
But something in his stressed heart felt better whenever Lisa Fitzgerald came around with her saucy grin. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but now?
He grinned as Emma raced around the car in a desperate attempt to beat Cory and Becky to Lisa’s side. “They insisted on coming,” Emma explained, as if the younger girls were there against her better judgment.
“I do believe I invited them,” Alex corrected her. “And if they’re in the way, I’ll take them on a garden tour so you and Lisa can get your work done. And be nice.” He added the reminder with a lifted brow that said he expected more of her because of her age.
She made a face, impatient.
At him, a New York State police lieutenant. Did the child not realize he carried a gun twenty-four/seven?
He met Lisa’s look over Emma’s head and the sparkle in her eyes that laughed at him, the kids and the situation.
Said she was pretty confident he wouldn’t go to extremes without just cause.
“You got the measurements you needed yesterday?” he asked as the girls went ahead, oohing and aahing over the sea of unrelenting pink. Only today he barely noticed the calamine-lotion wash of shades, because Lisa’s nature compelled him to look at her. And that felt too nice to be denied.
“I did, yes.” She bent and picked up a stray piece of paper from the brick walk, stuffed it in the pocket of some well-fit jeans, and waved the girls to the right. “Head to the bushes first, ladies. I need your opinion on something.”
The girls led the way, Cory and Becky skip-running along, heads bent, giggling and laughing. Emma followed with just enough disdain in her bearing that it was obvious she’d outgrown such childish antics months if not years before.
“Emma was bummed that her time with you was cut short yesterday because of Becky’s tantrum. She made her pay the price for half the day.”
“Poor Becky.”
The direct look he sent her scoffed at her sympathies. “Poor Becky, nothing. Shouldn’t she have outgrown this by now?”
“Ah, she’s eight.” Lisa shrugged it off. “All kids are know-it-all brats at that age. It’s in the rule book.”
“Boys, too?” He looked her way, and she jumped at the chance to best him, and that only made him smile more.
“Boys are brats from day one. At least girls grow out of it.” She turned as they stepped onto the paved lot. “Although Josh has got to be about the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. With that shirt and tie he had on yesterday? Priceless.”
He decided not to tell her that taking Josh anywhere in a shirt and tie made them a total babe magnet. It wasn’t like he intended to use the cute kid to gain female attention, but he would have to be blind not to realize the effect. With Josh in a shirt and tie, women constantly stopped to exclaim how adorable he was.
Josh, not him.
But some of their looks said he wasn’t all that bad himself. Seeing Lisa’s sassy grin, he realized she’d appreciate the boy’s magnetism for the joke it was. Alex was pretty sure not all women would get that.
Jenny would have. She’d loved to laugh with him. She took his serious job and serious side and made their lives humor-filled and easy care. Right up until the day of her death she’d tried her best to fill him with warmth and laughter.
Much of the joy had died with her, but it didn’t feel that way today. Today he felt...better. Much better.
“Dad, can we go see the fountains? Please?” Becky grabbed Alex’s hand and tugged him left. “Do you mind, Lisa?”
“Not at all. Emma and I need to make some choices. Then I’ll input them into the computer program and see what it recommends.”
“The computer plans the garden?” Emma looked deliriously happy at the idea of a machine doing the work for her.
Lisa laughed. “It gives us a launching point. And the hard work is yet to come. Soil preparation, weed killing and planting, then mulching. Then watering and more weeding.”
“Good thing we didn’t plan a vacation this year,” Alex told Emma.
She nodded, serious. “It really is, Dad. The book from the library said new plantings require constant attention.”
Alex didn’t mention that he had no energy to plan a vacation after accepting this job with a new troop. Moving three kids. Buying a new house. Sorting. Arranging. He’d even gotten a few rooms painted on his days off.
Lisa put an arm around Emma’s shoulders and hugged her, laughing. “I love this kid. You go on and do whatever you’d like, because Emma and I can talk gardens all day and not miss you one little bit.”
He couldn’t resist the gold-plated opening. “Not in the least?” He held two fingers up with virtually no space between them. “The tiniest bit?”
Something changed in her eyes. A hint of warmth and understanding read his not-so-silent message that maybe he wanted to be missed. Just a little. And despite her shadowed reluctance, he thought she longed to play along. She sighed, glanced away, then drew her gaze back slowly. Very slowly, as if fighting reluctance and losing. “A smidge. Perhaps.”
“I’ll take a smidge. For now.” He let his gaze linger a few beats longer than necessary, letting her read between the lines, then smiled, grabbed the girls’ hands and moved toward the fountain display, whistling. He hadn’t felt like whistling in a long time.
But he felt like it today.
* * *
“Okay, we’ve got the basics.” Lisa hit the print button on her laptop. “Now let’s see what the computer gives us.”
The printer clicked, whirred and whizzed as it delivered multiple copies of the basic plan.
“Oh, Lisa, I love this.” Emma took the front view into her hands and her wide smile said they’d hit pay dirt. “I’ve never seen a prettier garden. Can we really do this?”
“If your Dad approves,” Lisa told her. She had gone with a medium level budget by downsizing the bushes and adding more annuals. Landscaping four sides of a house could be cost-prohibitive, and she didn’t want Alex to feel shackled to expensive ideas. With a young family, things had plenty of time to grow before he’d have to worry about graduation pics or prom nights in the garden, snapping pictures of Emma in a fancy ball gown.
“How’re we doing, ladies?” Alex’s voice pulled Lisa back into the present. She laughed and waved him in, then made a face at his empty hands. “Did you drown them in my fountains, Alex? Please say no.”
“Naw. They were good today so it wasn’t even a temptation, but thanks for the idea. I’ll keep it for future reference. Your sister-in-law...”
He arched a brow as if questioning the relationship or searching for a name. Lisa went to name first. “Caroline. Yes?”
“Took them for juice and cookies. That was after Becky noted how Emma got to come the other day when you were handing out freebies all over the place.”
“Caro’s a softie.” Lisa winked at Emma. “I’d have let them starve.” She turned her attention to the gardening layouts and handed a copy of the front and east side to Alex. “What do you think? This is without pockets of color from annual flowers.”
“And life as we know it would be remiss without pockets of color.”
She ignored that he was teasing her for her choice of words, and smiled. “Yes, it would. I love color.”
“Especially pink,” Emma added.
Lisa turned, perplexed, saw Emma’s gaze sweep the outdoor displays, and understood the girl’s assumption. Without pausing to consider the possible fallout, she took advantage of a God-given opportunity. “Oh, you think that because of our breast cancer campaign. I’m actually a bold color person myself. Reds, golds, fall tones. But when you’ve walked the walk, it’s important to join the mission to find a cure, right?”
Emma stared at her, confused. And maybe a little nervous?
Alex’s face stilled. He glanced around the office and paled, as if hoping he’d misheard. His crestfallen expression said he hadn’t.
Pictures of the Fitzgerald family throughout the last ten years lined the walls. Local commendations, benefits they’d hosted, people they’d helped, the growth of a family business chronicled a decade of success. But in the more recent area, photos of Lisa with the telltale chemo hats lined the wall with all the rest.
A part of her hated those pictures. Another part championed them as a battle won. And the extra curl in her current hair was an interesting change from the straight locks she’d had for twenty-eight years. Soft curls and waves? She didn’t mind them at all, but she minded the look that dulled Alex’s eyes. The pain she saw on Emma’s face.
Emma recovered first. “You had breast cancer?”
Always direct, Lisa refused to sugarcoat things. “Yes. Five years ago.”
“Oh, Lisa.” Emma reached out and took her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Lisa wouldn’t have expected grown-up empathy in ten-year-old eyes, but Emma was a one-of-a-kind kid. “Thank you, honey. As you can see, I’m doing quite well now.”
“I’m glad.”
Emma’s expression said more. Alex looked battle-worn and possibly shell-shocked, but Lisa had faced that reaction before. She’d seen it on her husband’s face every day for nearly six months, until he packed up, saying he couldn’t stand the idea of waiting around for her to die.
Yup.
She recognized the body language. And it still stuck a knife-like pain into her heart, because if the conditions had been reversed, she’d have stayed and fought with Evan.
“So.” She stood, handed Alex the four sheets of paper, handed a second set to Emma, and said, “Let me know if you approve this, Alex, and we’ll get things going. We’ve got a few weeks to get rid of old plantings and perennial weeds so we start out with good weed control.”
“Good weed control is important,” Emma told her father, repeating what Lisa had explained earlier. Emma didn’t appear to notice her father’s sudden silence. Lisa couldn’t notice anything else. “That makes our job easier in the long run.”
“Weed control. Dig up old stuff.” Politely dismissive, he held the papers up, moved outside, called for Becky and Cory to head for the car, and started toward the SUV. “I’ve got to get these guys home for supper. Thank you, Lisa. I’m sure this is all fine. I’ll get back to you on the details.”
Cool. Crisp. Concise. A business deal.
She felt ridiculously hurt, a ludicrous response, because she’d just met this man a few days before. Something in his face, the humor and warmth she’d witnessed made old wonders and wishes spring back to life inside her. And even though she couldn’t act on those feelings, she couldn’t deny it felt nice to be admired.
But he’d drawn the curtain closed on humorous repartee the minute he saw the pictures of her during her year-long fight. She’d refused to hide during chemo and radiation, and she’d scheduled her bi-lateral mastectomy for early January so she’d have plenty of recovery time without messing up Christmas-tree and wreath sales. She’d used all of her strength to battle this disease, and maybe win the war. Only time would reveal that.
She waved to the girls and walked back to the fountain area, avoiding Caroline and her father. They’d read her like a book. She needed a few minutes to recover, because somewhere inside her she’d known this would happen. Men didn’t want damaged goods. Alex was no exception. And while it shouldn’t matter, it did. And that came as a wake-up call.
She didn’t bargain on meeting Adam near the mulch station.
He and Rosie came around from the back barn. The toddler raced for Lisa, arms out, eyes wide, her broad smile easing the sting of Alex’s rejection. This was the reason she worked to raise awareness. So Rosie’s generation wouldn’t have to go through the rigorous treatments she’d undergone.
“What’s wrong?” Adam’s face said she hadn’t done a good job of hiding her emotions. Given five more minutes, he wouldn’t have been able to tell, but right now she was an open wound, raw and bleeding.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing when it makes you look like you want to cry,” Adam scolded in a none-too-gentle brotherly voice. “Who hurt your feelings? And where are they? I’ll punch them for you.”
“You can’t. You’ll get fired and then who will buy Rosie pretty dresses and fancy shoes?”
