“Well, since you’re the nicest person I know, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
In any other scenario, it wouldn’t be one. But something about J.P. brought out the worst in Nora. His bristly attitude clawed at her resolve until hostility and enmity seeped out.
Playing nice with J.P. was going to put Nora to the test, and she had the sneaking suspicion it was one she was going to fail spectacularly.
Chapter Six
Waylon kicked up clods of dirt double time.
“He’s the most efficient volunteer we’ve ever had,” Pearl Weatherford said as she slapped her leather gardening gloves against her thigh to free loose bits of soil. “Maybe I need to get a dog to help out here in the garden. I’m getting too old to do the backbreaking stuff all on my own.”
J.P.’s mother dropped a leafy heirloom tomato plant into the hole that Waylon’s furious digging left behind.
“Look at that. Perfect fit,” she mused. “Now, does he know how to fill it back in?”
“That’s something we’ll have to work on, but I’m sure he could learn.”
Just a few paces away from his mother, J.P. swiveled the shed door open and closed, then open once more. He’d been about to trek into town for a bite to eat when his mother had asked if he had time to swing by the community garden. There was a hinge on the potting shed that needed securing. The hefty door had wobbled loose and nearly fallen on a volunteer earlier that morning, and that wasn’t a liability J.P. wanted his mother to take a chance on. She did so much good for the town, providing so many grateful families with free fruits and veggies. Opening herself up to accidents that had easily fixed solutions wouldn’t happen on his watch.
“All set.” He twisted the handle to lock the door in its frame. “Anything else I can check on while I’m here?”
“Nope, just the shed for now.” Pearl pinched the fabric on her knees and squatted to give Waylon an appreciative pat. “You want to leave this guy here for the afternoon? I could use the company—and the help—and I think the group of Girl Scouts I’ve got coming by would love to see him. If we give him a bath, they might even be able to earn a new patch. I think animal care is one of their assignments.”
J.P. slanted his head. “Only if you’re sure he won’t get in the way. He can get pretty riled up in big crowds.”
“Ah, you know my grand-puppy can do no wrong in my eyes. We’ll be just fine.”
A lump clogged J.P.’s throat. His mother wanted to be a grandma in the worst way, and while she would never admit it, J.P. was well aware his breakup with Kenzie had been hard on her too. She’d loved the woman as a daughter, and at the time, wasn’t shy in conveying her hopes for an expanded family in the future.
J.P. supposed she might still get that wish. Maybe even get the same daughter-in-law, just married to a different son.
A shudder skittered through him, from his shoulders to his toes. The thought of Kenzie one day becoming his sister-in-law had bile rising up the back of his throat. That was a scenario he couldn’t envision without feeling like he might become sick right there in the patch of just-planted tomatoes.
“If you’re good here, I’m going to head out.” He pressed close to his mother to leave a kiss on the round apple of her cheek.
“J.P. Weatherford, what in tarnation is that?” Pearl tugged back and grasped J.P.’s chin between her fingers, angling his head side to side in a motherly once-over. “Please don’t tell me you got into a fight. I thought you left those days back in high school.”
The fat lip. Of course. “I got stung by a bee. Multiple times, actually. But this is the most annoyingly placed one.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not allergic. I’ve got a few volunteers around here that are, and we make sure they’re covered up real good when they’re working in the flowers. Can’t take any chances.”
He shouldered his tool tote and hooked a thumb under the worn leather strap. “You get a lot of bees buzzing around here?”
“Some, and honestly, couldn’t be more grateful for them. They’re what keeps this garden going, you know.”
“And you never get stung?” J.P. asked. Now didn’t feel like the best time for a deep dive into the many benefits of honeybees and their pollinating powers, but he was curious.
Pearl shook her head. “Not even once. They really keep to themselves and if you don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you. Common sense.”
Why hadn’t that been J.P.’s experience? Ah, maybe because he didn’t have that common sense she spoke of. He gave his mother another quick hug.
“You should probably ice that,” Pearl added as she walked her youngest son to the garden gate. Waylon spun in a circle near her feet before plopping down onto the dirt with a little huff that flapped his cheeks and plumed the dust around him. “Looks mighty painful.”
She didn’t know the half of it.
“Maybe a milkshake from the Campfire Café will have the same effect as an icepack,” he suggested with a shrug and a smile.
“I absolutely believe there are some healing powers in those shakes. Enjoy that, hon. We’ll see you in a bit.”
