Page 45 of A Touch of Spring Magic

His question was quiet, but it felt like a shout. “It’s not,” she said. “But we aren’t touching that book. No way. Who knows what could happen? My life’s imploded. Sure, I was planning some changes but not everything all at once. Now a freak winter storm destroyed all my work from the past year. And Chloe’s engagement has hyperzoomed my timeline by months. So no you can’t use it. I can’t use it. The book is cursed.”

“I don’t think it’s a curse,” Storm said and closed the book gently, tracing his fingers over the word ‘LOVE’—which should have been sappy, but was disturbingly sexy. He looked up at her, his eyes glowing. “It’s an opportunity.”

*

Storm stayed aboutthirty more minutes after clearing up the dishes and kitchen with her. They reviewed more of the storm damage from the drone, but also started to brainstorm sections of the garden and how to have a cohesive feel even if she stylistically themed the different areas. He’d shared some rough sketches he’d worked on his tablet, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jessica brought out her drawing pad.

Her mouth and throat had felt so dry, and her heart had pounded as he leafed through, asked questions, and then started freestyling some of her ideas on his iPad sketches like he wasn’t worried about what she’d think of him—and he was the expert.

It had been so freeing to not worry about the perfect placement. Perfections. Just, in Storm’s words: ‘two people talking. Two people dreaming. Spitballing what-ifs.’

After Storm left Jessica wandered around the garden, exhausted, but keyed up in a way she couldn’t quite explain. She had loved the hard physical work today. She’d also enjoyed having the small crew helping out. It had enabled her to not just make several lists of tasks that needed to be done, dividing them into now—that she could do on her own; soon—but she’d need help or equipment or professional help she’d have to pay for; or future—meaning she’d put it in the master plan and save up for it.

Having the crew asking her for directions—not Storm—had made her nursery and garden project seem real for the first time. She was the boss and no longer felt like such an imposter, which had allowed her to relax and enjoy herself, let her imagination roam. When Storm or the others on his crew had questions, brainstormed solutions, it felt collaborative. She no longer felt she had to tussle for control.

And that was sad. Her career that she hadn’t loved, but had been proud of, had really done a number on her, that she was just beginning to understand. But so too had her traditional upbringing.

“But the future’s on me,” she reminded herself.

And she was seeing it play out in real time. She had a pad with a slew of working sketches that she and Storm had worked on this evening, along with what he put on his tablet. He hadn’t complained that she wanted to draw things out physically, that it helped her to ‘see and understand it.’ He’d shrugged that off and encouraged her to draw as it was ‘part of her process,’ which had made her felt seen and understood in a way she couldn’t remember—maybe since college.

Storm’s attention was seductive. It made Jessica realize how subtly toxic her workplace had been. She’d been successful, but she always felt she had to hide who she was, just be professional Jessica, not bring her personality or personal life to work, wear armor. But the land outside the farmhouse felt like her home office now and even the dark felt safe and full of opportunity.

This morning she’d ordered some party lights. They should arrive tomorrow and Storm’s crew was going to string them through a few strategic trees so they could work longer, and then as they built out the garden, they could move the party lights to highlight certain areas. He’d mentioned consulting a lighting designer but thought they could—at least for the first stage—create their own focal points.

Jessica wandered over to where she’d discovered part of the mosaic. She’d cleared out a portion out of curiosity once the greenhouse plants were safe. The mosaic was larger than she thought. She was tempted to put in another hour tonight, but she didn’t want to damage anything, and while the lights from the house provided a glow, it was a distant one.

Yet she wanted mysterious places in the garden. Not just for herself but for others. She’d traveled to Helsinki once for work, and the large open parks and forested area in and near the city had shocked her. She’d been intrigued to learn that ‘forest bathing’—being in nature was—considered a human right.

Perhaps that was when the seed of the idea of rehabbing Grandma Millie’s garden and opening up part of the property to others to enjoy had sprouted. She’d felt such a sense of peace and contentment in Helsinki, and yet it was a thriving capital.

Absently she swished her hands through the grasses, letting them slide through her fingers. She was closer to the center now, and she could feel the tiles instead of dirt. Pulling her flashlight out, she put the beam on low and tried to move the grasses out of place. She saw blues and greens and then something that looked more charcoal colored that seemed to swirl and loop, maybe in a pattern. She snapped a few pictures and sent them to Storm.

The tile’s in better shape than I imagined. Do you want to pull the grass or try to transplant it?

She smiled. Storm really did love plants as much as she did. Transplanting was more work.

I love the ornamental grasses, but many of them are choked so it looks like a field. We can save some to use as color and texture, but not here.

At least she didn’t think so.

I think there’s a kind of design. Not sure.

She added Chloe on the thread as she teased out more of the mosaic design. Chloe immediately said it looked like a Celtic knot and promised to google if Jessica could more pictures.

Jessica smiled. Her family was so supportive. Without her asking, Chloe, Meghan and Sarah had arranged a work party for this weekend to help with whatever needed doing, and because they were her sisters, they were already talking about who’d bring what to eat and when they should start planning the engagement party menu.

She truly was blessed with the things that were important.

Chloe texted again, promising that even Rustin and his restaurant crew would come and help Sunday as it was one of their days off.

She tipped back her head and looked up at the almost full moon. The sky was arrogantly clear after throwing a fit yesterday.

“The nursery will be a success. A destination success,” she promised herself and the neglected garden. She believed that plants communicated with each other, and she wanted them to know she had their health and happiness in mind.

Storm’s focus on ‘creating different spaces’ had really resonated with her and had made her think of that week in Helsinki. When she had a moment of down time she wanted to look back at some of the nature photos she’d taken during her walks and explore online alpine spaces, sculpture gardens, tropical gardens, and so much more. So many people in the Charlotte area didn’t have as much access to quiet spaces of beauty and contemplation. She could provide those magical moments of connection along with unusual plants that would thrive indoors and others outdoors, but when she really allowed herself to dream, she knew she envisioned offering a few classes—growing a garden to feed a family in raised beds, creating beautiful pots to last a season or a year, holiday wreaths, Mother’s or Father’s Day living gifts…so many ideas burbled up when she allowed her brain to free range.

And that’s what Storm had done for her—allowing her time to get a handle on her dreamy musings. She was starting to feel in control of her life again and no longer as guilty for accepting her sisters’ financial help, as this was all of their land and their home. Maybe they too would build something here—put their own stamp on their legacy.

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