Page 9 of Wishes on Wildflowers
He shrugged. “It was time to move out of Mom and Dad’s basement.”
“For most of us, the first step is an apartment.”
“And waste all that money? No way. But I wasn’t expecting to find this deal quite so quickly. Dad loaned me ten grand of the down payment.”
“Most likely to be rid of you,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Probably. I’ll get him paid back within the year. And it gets Basil out of their hair, too.”
Basil. He’d dropped out of college and drifted from one job to the next for a few years until landing one with City of Spokane Public Works. He’d done everything from shoveling sidewalks to fixing manhole covers to watering flower boxes. No wonder he’d been more than ready to jump on Peter’s idea for a family business.
Alex shook his head and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, Jas, I only hope he doesn’t mess up Bridgeview Backyards.”
She’d never figured out how the second-born of five kids could be so different from the others. Marco, the eldest, had been married for years to a great gal, and they had three little boys. He had a degree in geography and worked for Spokane’s planning department. In fact, it had been Marco who’d gone to bat for Basil working for the city.
Jasmine was sandwiched smack in the middle, with Alextwo years younger. Maybe Basil’s cavalier attitude toward the future had helped spur Alex to studying hard. He was a junior accountant in a prestigious firm downtown, and was definitely focused on getting ahead, right down to buying a house at the age of twenty-four. Sure, it wasn’t a mansion, but it was solid. Their youngest brother, Evan, was in law school. He’d be in their parents’ basement for a while yet.
So, yeah, she was proud of Alex. How could she not be, for helping Basil with one more chance to redeem himself? “He’ll be fine. He just needed something to focus on. I think he’s ready to do that.”
“Sure hope so.” Alex glanced at her. “So you know, Basil talked to me about the budget for hiring a marketer. He didn’t tell me whom he had in mind. I would’ve made sure you were consulted in advance.”
“I know.” Jasmine sighed. “Basil thinks it’s a big joke. I just don’t get him sometimes.”
“Yeah. Are you okay with it being Hamelin? Maybe he’s grown up a bit over the years.”
“It’s too late for my opinion to have any weight, but maybe it’s best this way. I didn’t realize how much bitterness I was still holding until I saw him again. Now I can move on.”
Oh, didn’t that sound great? So mature. So unlike the battle going on inside her, which was more related to the way her brothers had wrestled as kids, knocking over lamps and destroying furniture.
She shrugged. “Sounds like he’s run some innovative campaigns in L.A., so I guess we’ll see what his ideas are for Bridgeview Backyards. It will probably be a short-term contract, anyway.” She was counting on it.
“You two going to jaw all day?” yelled Peter. “Build agarden bed while you talk!”
Alex chuckled. “On the other hand, I think we’re all in good hands with Peter at the helm.”
Something else Jasmine was counting on.
Nathan grabbeda two-by-twelve and carried it over to where Jasmine had just pegged the corner of the second garden bed. What Logan and Peter were doing with the shed was beyond his experience level. “Where do you want this?” Maybe he could build on that almost-truce first thing this morning.
She spared him a glance. “Along this side.”
“I’ve got the drill to attach the boards.” She wouldn’t fight him for an eighteen-volt cordless, would she? The thing was heavy.
“Good. Basil cut everything to length in Dad’s shop, so it’s just a matter of assembly.” She arranged a shorter two-by-twelve at right angles to the one he’d brought.
Nathan took the hint and drove four stainless steel screws into the corner. They moved to the other end, and he screwed the next section to it. A few minutes later, they shoved the rectangular box into place and started the next one.
“How’d you guys come up with the idea to raise vegetables for sale, anyway?” Least he could do was be sociable. A truce was one thing, but friends would be better.
“It seemed a natural step. My nonna raised her kids on garden-fresh vegetables and fruit she’d canned. My parents and most of my aunts and uncles raised us the same.”
“And now it’s the in thing to do again.”
“Seems to be.” She didn’t look at him, but at least she was talking.
“You used to like picking berries and scouting for mushrooms.”
Jasmine’s face pinched.
