I was used to having a huge garden at the farmhouse, and when I heard Julia and Grady say they weren’t going to harvest the garden, I had to admit I was a little heartbroken. It was a little hard to bite my tongue and let them do with the property what they wanted since I’d given it to them without any requests to keep the garden. They didn’t even keep the family room and kitchen separate when they decided to tear down the wall and make it one big open space. My heart groaned a little more. I let out a long, deep sigh, letting all of the things I loved about the farmhouse go, and let my mind drift to the beautiful box garden I was going to harvest as I pulled the car into the parking lot of Leaf and Petal.
The extended summer hours were perfect for me. Most nights I’d get home so late from my mail route, but with daylight savings time, most stores were open well past their normal hours.
“It feels like five o’clock.” Sara Rammond, the owner of the Leaf and Petal, was elbow-deep in the black diamond mulch. She was hand scooping, or more like arm scooping, the smelly stuff into a wheelbarrow.
“It does. I love it.” There was a giddy up in my step as my eyes took in all the vibrant annuals lined up like little happy faces displayed in rows upon rows on the acres of land the Rammonds owned. “Sara, stunning crop this year.”
It was as if Mother Nature had a burst of happy all over the Rammonds property. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the customers were roaming around with smiles on their faces.
Sara stood up. She was a lean older woman who should’ve used more sunscreen in her younger days, though like most people around Sugar Creek Gap, the business and property was passed down from generation to generation.
Leaf and Petal was from Sara’s side of the family, not Larry’s, her husband’s.
“You know Larry is as stubborn as a mule.” She pushed the floppy hat up out of her eyes.
The lines around her eyes and her leathery crepe skin was the price she’d paid to have a business that required a lot of time in the elements. I knew. My job was exactly the same, but I slathered sunscreen on every morning and reapplied throughout my day, even in the cold and dreary weather.
“What’s up with Larry?” I asked.
“This.” She waved her hand over the flower gardens. “He wants to strictly do vegetables and doesn’t want to worry with the flowers, which is my passion. So that’s why I’m out here doing the mulch for customers. He even suggested we sell the back part to the bank for their new branch.”
I’d heard some rumblings on my mail route about the Sugar Creek Gap National Bank opening a second branch on the far side of the county since our little town had been growing by leaps and bounds.
“Do you need a shovel?” I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me about her and Larry or if she just needed an ear to listen, but I stood there offering some sort of suggestion so she didn’t have to scoop with her arms.
“Oh no. I know a scoop is about this size, give a few extra.” She winked and made a big circle with her arms. “Another reason Larry hates the garden center. He says I give out too much mulch by eyeballing it and we are losing money. So if we were to sell the back half to the bank, we’d make some money.”
To my surprise, Courtney Gaines walked up.
“Courtney, right?” I questioned, actually thankful not to continue the conversation with Sara. Her apparent issue with Larry didn’t stop with me. She kept on talking about him when another customer walked up.
“Great memory.” Courtney put a hand up to her forehead and rubbed it like she was trying to get a genie to pop out. “I’m not great with names. I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to be since you just moved to town. I’m Bernadette.” I was about to say my last name, but she took in a deep breath and held up her hand to stop me.
“My neighbor and mail carrier.” Her head tilted to the side. “I remember, but you know Aunt Florence. She rattles off names to me along with little details about people that I try to forget.”
I smiled, knowing exactly what Courtney meant by little details. . . gossip.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Sara spoke up. She looked at Courtney and pointed to the wheelbarrow. “I’ve got to go dig up some snapdragons for a customer. Here’s your mulch. You can just push the wheelbarrow to your car, and after you dump it, just leave it in the parking lot.” She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “At least Larry will bring those back.”
“I’ll catch you in a little bit. I’m needing some advice on a box garden I’m planting at the new house,” I told Sara before she ran off.
“Plants? Veggies?” Sara asked.
“Vegetables. Grady and Julia aren’t keeping a garden now that they moved into the farmhouse, so I’m going to plant my own at my new house.” I smiled and watched Sara rush off, knowing by the shake of her finger she knew what I was talking about.
“Box garden. Wow.” Courtney looked to be overwhelmed. “I’m just trying to keep up with the letter I got from the beautification committee about making my yard look nice. Since my aunt Florence is trying her hardest to get appointed the new beautification president, she’s practically making me learn how to garden.” She looked down at the wheelbarrow and shook her head. “I don’t even know if this is enough mulch or not.”
“You’re in luck.” It took everything in my being not to ask her about Florence wanting to be the president of the committee, since Florence didn’t have a green thumb, finger, toe, or anything else green in her body. “I’m pretty good at all things gardening. If you can believe it, I traded in a huge farm for the house on Little Creek.”
Long story short, when Mr. Macum, the former owner of my house on Little Creek Road, had died, he willed it to me. It was a perfect time to gift the farm to Grady since they were expanding their family, and it was just me, Rowena, my ornery cat, and now Buster, Mr. Macum’s dog that I’d also got in his inheritance.
“I’m more than happy to wander over the fence and help you if you need me to. It’s only my opinions, so you can use what you want and forget the rest. No feelings hurt.” I wanted to show how neighborly we on Little Creek Road were, even if her aunt Florence didn’t like ninety percent of our neighbors.
“That would be great,” she gushed. “Aunt Florence has no idea what it’s like to move to a new town and start a new job, and then she puts something like gardening over on me.”
“I’d love to help. Do you have a phone?” I asked her. “I can give you my number, and when you’re ready to work in the yard, give me a text or call or holler over the fence.”
“Thank you.” We exchanged numbers, and she pushed her phone back in her pocket and bent down to grip the handles on both sides of the wheelbarrow. The thing teetered and tottered for a second before she finally got it lined up with the one wheel in the front. “Wait.” She put the legs back down on the ground. “Earlier you mentioned Grady and Julia. Did you say your last name was Butler?”
“Yes. Bernie Butler,” I confirmed.
“You owned a farm and now live in town, last name Butler.” She rattled off my stats. “So Grady Butler is your…”