I take a final look at the violets and am satisfied that I’ve done all that I can. Then I place the violet back on its stand, put all my tools in my gardening belt, and head to the bathroom sink.
“Because we had a great conversation about her plants at your last get-together,” I say. “And I was going to poke around and see if she was interested in using Plantcy.”
“That’s a great idea. She’s in London right now, or I’d ask her.”
“Oh, I’ll talk to her. It’s not a problem.”
“If I hear from her, I’ll feel her out.Oh!” She giggles. “I’ll plant a seed. Get it?”
“You’re so funny,” I say, shaking my head and grinning. I turn on the tap and give my hands a good scrub. “I’m about done here for the day. What are you up to tonight?”
“I’m getting ready to attend a play tonight with Gretchen. Someone from her sorority’s involved somehow.”
“I take it you don’t know what play?”
She laughs. “Not a clue. I didn’t pay too much attention to the details. But plays are fun, and I don’t have any plans. So I thought, why not?”
“Well, have fun. I’m finishing up here and then heading home. Let me know how the play goes.”
“Will do. Love ya, girlie.”
“Love you. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I dry my hands and head back to give the workbench one last cleaning before I leave.
The sun warms my face as I work quietly, getting the room back in order. I love the days I work here in the late afternoon. The evening sky is beautiful over the fields behind the house, and I always pause to appreciate the beauty.
I stop to gaze across the lawn, and my mind goes to Gannon.
Our interaction has played through my head on repeat all day long. I’ve second-guessed everything I said, dissected every look he gave me, and wondered why he hasn’t followed up a million times. I feel things went well, even if I got more personal than I wanted and expected. A part of me fears that he’ll see that as a negative. But, in truth, I was only answering his questions honestly.
Who the heck knows how he’ll process things?
I spray the bench down and reach for a towel. As my hand passes over my phone, it rings.
My eyes fall immediately to the screen. I hold my breath … to see it’s my mother.
“Hey, Mama,” I say, wiping down my work area.
“Don’t sound so happy to talk to me.”
I sigh. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Really? Why?”
“I had a meeting atfive thirtythis morning.”
“What? Why?”
“A potential client only had that slot available, so I took it.”
There’s a pause. “It must be some client for you to get up that early.”
You could say that. “He’s not a client yet. I’m trying not to get my hopes up.”
“How’s Plantcy going?”