“Let me get this out of the way.” I wheel the lawnmower outside, making just enough room for the three of us.
After I plunk Noah down on the floor, he finds his favorite truck and a planter of dirt, which is just his to play in. While he gets busy making brrrrm brrrrm noises and digging in the dirt, I take Daphne on a tour of the small space.
“I’ve had to make the most of the area,” I explain, wondering how my small operation stacks up to other businesses she’s seen.“This is both the workroom and my storage shed.” I indicate the sketches stacked up on the bench. “Sorry it’s a mess. Cleanliness isn’t my strongest point.”
She takes notes, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of the headline. “Slovenly single mom thinks she can run a business.”
I shake the thought out of my head and do what I’ve been doing for the last two and a half years. I put on a confident smile and pretend like I know exactly what I’m doing.
“You’ve made great use of the space.” Daphne’s glance goes to the hooks on the ceiling where clumps of lavender are drying. “I love how innovative entrepreneurs can be.”
I’ve never been called an entrepreneur before, and my chest swells with pride. I like Daphne. Some women aim to tear others down, but she generally seems impressed.
“Thank you. I had to get creative. I needed to make it work at home so I could pop out here whenever I get the chance. You have to be flexible when you’re a single mom.”
She nods thoughtfully, making more notes, and I hope like hell theHope Mattersreaders aren’t judgy and like an underdog.
“Let’s take a look at the nursery.”
I lead her out of the shed and to the greenhouse where I keep my cuttings, scooping up Noah on the way. “I use local suppliers, but I grow the most sought after plants myself.”
I plunk Noah down by the doorway, and he plays happily with a stack of empty plastic pots.
Daphne asks me about the business and my background, and I tell her how I studied horticulture, leaving out the part aboutmissing the last few weeks of my degree and never getting around to finishing it.
“I hear you’re doing work on Jake’s Retreat, the new veterans’ center.”
“I’ve been working with Joel since the beginning, planning a garden that prioritizes rest and healing. We’ve made every area accessible, and there are quiet spaces, an herb garden, and a Zen garden. My brother is ex-military, and there are a lot of veterans in the area.”
A memory slams into my thoughts—another soldier from another time, rough hands, and the scrape of stubble on my thigh.
Daphne’s peering at me intently, and I realize I’ve stopped speaking and my cheeks have heated.
“It’s a cause close to my heart.” I swallow hard and turn away to rows of potted plants. Not a day goes by that I don’t think aboutThat Weekend,and I walk down the rows of plants until the tightness in my chest eases.
“It sounds like meaningful work.”
“It is and all voluntary. They only pay for the materials, which most businesses sponsor, and my time is free.”
She makes more notes, and I wait and smile, hoping I’m coming across okay. A write-up in the local paper could bring in new customers, which I desperately need.
“Who are your competitors, Paige? There are already landscaping businesses in Hope. Are you treading on anyone’s toes?”
I think about the shocked look on Alan Winter’s face when the Huntingtons awarded me the contract to redesign their gardens and not him. He turned up at my door red-faced and blustering, spluttering about how he’d done the original designs, and I knew nothing. That I wouldn’t last a year in this business.
“There’s a bigger firm, Wild Landscapers. They’ve been around forever. If you want cookie cutter lawns, they’re good. But if you want something different, come to me.”
She raises her eyebrows. It’s not smart to goad the competition, but I need to be bold. No one ever made friends by being bold, but mine and Noah’s livelihoods depend on this business.
“Momma.” Noah toddles over to me, clutching a watering can. “Water plant.”
“You want to help me water the plants?” He holds up the watering can, and I take him to the tap to fill it with water.
There’s a pot of flowers near the door, and I steady his hand as he tips the can up and water trickles out.
When I glance up, Daphne has her phone out and aimed at us. “Do you mind if I take some pictures of the both of you?”
Noah smiles, and she takes a shot before I can answer. “It’s a great angle, a single mom and small business owner helping veterans.”
