Page 33 of Wishes on Wildflowers
Jasmine let out a long breath. “Whew, that went better than expected.”
Peter laughed. “I told you I could charm her. You really think she can’t handle the garden this year herself?”
“I’m only going by what she said,” Jasmine replied. “She told me she wasn’t up to it right now because of the cold damp weather. She insists she’ll be fine when there’s heat in the summer.”
“Some people don’t know when to slow down,” muttered Basil. “She ought to move into an apartment somewhere, or maybe even an old folks’ home.”
Peter guffawed. “I doubt that will ever happen. I’m betting she’ll keel over while working in her garden. I can’t imagine her doing anything else, or living anywhere else, either, for that matter.”
Jasmine wasn’t so sure. The guys didn’t seem to be all that observant most of the time. She and Francesca had talked about it once a couple of weeks ago, and Fran had agreed with her. Their grandmother was definitely slowing down. It was just that she refused to admit it to herself or anyone else.
Voices came from the community garden next door. Jasmine glanced through the chain-link fence to see Linnea puttering in the herb garden, while Logan brushed another coat of sealer across the cedar planks of the garden shed. A couple of families worked in their spaces, and small children played in the grassy verge. It took a second for her to realize that the figure coming toward the gate to Nonna’s yard was Nathan. How could she not have recognized him in that gray T-shirt?
He lifted the latch and stepped through. “Hey.” His gaze ricocheted off hers then to Basil and Peter’s and back to her.
“Want to give us a hand?” asked Basil.
Some people never gave up.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Nathan took a few steps into the yard and latched the gate. “What would you like me to do?”
Besides go away?
“Grab a spade and dig that bag of sheep manure in,” Basil said. “The sooner we get done here, the sooner we can go do something else.”
“Like Mrs. Essery’s yard,” put in Peter.
Basil sighed dramatically. Jasmine exchanged a worried frown with Peter. Were they foolish having hitched their wagon to Basil’s? Would he really be an asset to their company long-term?
Nathan reached for the bag of manure and split the side with a pocketknife before dumping the contents down the length of the garden bed where Basil worked. “Mind if my kid brother comes along next time we play three-on-three?” he asked casually.
Peter leaned on his spade. “Which brother?”
Good question. No doubt Peter wouldn’t mind getting his hands on young Connor.
“Jason. He seems to be a pretty messed up kid, and my Pops is too sick to do anything about raising him right. Not that he did such a great job with any of the rest of us.”
Hearing a caring Nathan was a bit of a shock to Jasmine’s system.
“Yeah, sure. We were thinking of getting together tonight at the courts under the bridge. Good idea getting some of the younger guys playing.”
“My Pops…”
Jasmine turned at the broken sound in Nathan’s voice. Against her will, she felt sympathy for him.
“I don’t think my Pops is going to live long. I asked Makenna as I was leaving, and the doctors don’t really expect more than a few months.”
“What’s Makenna getting out of all this?” asked Basil.
Nathan shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that Jason is getting the raw end of the deal no matter what.”
14
“How wouldyou like to position your business as unique from the other yard maintenance companies in Spokane?” Nathan sat in Bridgeview Bakery and Bistro and tapped his pen against his spiral bound notebook.
Across the table from him, Dan Ranta took a sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair. “My dad always did a decent business with the basics. Cutting lawns, trimming hedges, maintaining flowerbeds. My sister gave me the idea that we could do a whole lot more. Not that she’s going to be any help this season, really, what with getting married in July and all. And then moving to Everett with Logan to go to college for two years.” The young man grimaced. “I really need her here. She worked with Dad for years while I sold used cars. I didn’t figure I’d ever get a chance to work in the family business.” Dan gave a sharp laugh. “My old man didn’t have much use for me.”
Nathan had heard the story of Dave Ranta Senior’s heartattack last fall and the changes it had precipitated. He pushed the thought of his own father aside. Whatever there had been of Pops’s business was long gone. He’d been a pretty good carpenter back when he’d still somehow managed juggling alcohol and power tools. It was nothing short of a miracle the man had never taken off more than a finger.
