Leota's Garden

  “She knows. I didn’t tell her about it to begin with. Big mistake.”

  “I can understand that, can’t you? It would seem to her you came on false pretenses.”

  He thought that a hard remark but conceded. “I suppose.”

  “She must’ve forgiven you.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  Annie smiled up at him. “She likes you.”

  “Yeah, right. Me and the black plague.”

  Annie laughed. “I haven’t known my grandmother very long, Corban, but I know she says what she thinks. If she didn’t want you here, she’d tell you to leave.”

  “Maybe she’s just being polite.”

  Annie chuckled. “She’s frank. We were at church this morning, and she raised a few eyebrows.”

  “She didn’t like it?”

  “I think she loved it, but the service wasn’t what she expected.”

  “I didn’t know she was religious.” He made a mental note. “What denomination is she?”

  Annie sighed. “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “Forget about interviewing Grandma and get to know her as a person.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do, Anne.”

  “Are you? Really?” There was something in her eyes that reminded him strongly of Leota Reinhardt. She was looking beyond everything he said to something deeper. Did she know what motivated him? Sometimes he wondered if he knew himself. Unlike the old lady’s, however, there wasn’t the least hint of unkindness in her expression.

  “I’m trying to do good with what I learn from her.” He wanted Anne to understand. Her clear blue eyes held his in an unwavering, uncompromising look, and his conscience twisted. Anne Gardner might as well have said, “Please don’t use her.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “No more notes, mental or otherwise.” Maybe if Anne knew what his ideas entailed, she would be more sympathetic to his cause and give him some assistance. “I’d like to take you to coffee and explain . . .”

  “We can have coffee right here,” Leota said from the doorway. “It might be good for you to spill all your beans on the table and let Annie examine them. Let’s see what she has to say about the government projects you want to see come into fruition for us poor old folks.”

  Corban took the challenge. Mrs. Reinhardt had made him think a few things over, and he now had more concrete ideas about what kinds of recreational activities might be available in the elder-care facility. Maybe the amendments would be more to her liking.

  Anne sat listening without comment.

  Mrs. Reinhardt heated water and mixed fancy cappuccino for her granddaughter, then brewed a pot of regular coffee for him. The old lady said nothing during the half an hour he talked, though he expected her to jump in and make her objections known. She served them both and then sat in the chair nearest the windows, gazing out at her garden while he talked.

  When Corban finished, he waited for Anne’s approval, knowing it would carry weight with her grandmother.

  “It sounds as though you have very admirable intentions,” she said.

  He waited for more, but she just looked at him with a perplexed frown. Her gaze moved to her grandmother and back to him.

  Her placid neutrality annoyed him. “What’s wrong with the plan?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “There’s just something about it that troubles me.”

  “Explain what you mean.”

  “I can’t explain. It’s . . .” She shrugged.

  “It’s what?”

  “Visceral.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Corban.”

  The old woman turned from the window and patted her granddaughter’s hand. When Mrs. Reinhardt looked at Corban, he saw tears in her eyes. She smiled at him, and it was the tenderest of smiles, one like he had never seen before in all his life. “Why don’t I make us some lunch?” She put her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up.

  “Oh, Grandma, I’ll do that.”

  “I’ll take out the fixings.”

  The doorbell rang as Mrs. Reinhardt moved to the cabinets. “See who that is, honey, would you, please?” Corban had never heard her use that tone before. “Honey.” Sweet, warm, a melting fondness.

  Anne left the kitchen. A moment later, Corban could hear voices and laughter in the living room. Company, he thought, annoyed. So much for his afternoon alone with Mrs. Reinhardt and her granddaughter. So much for getting into their reasons for not liking his ideas. The day was going to be a complete waste.

  Anne came back into the kitchen followed by a punk-looking girl and a man a few years older than Corban. “Grandma,” Anne said, “this is Susan Carter, my best friend and roommate—”

  Roommate? Corban looked the girl over. She was looking back at him with one eyebrow up and a half smile curving her mouth. Anne was oddly matched to this hip girl with her dangling earrings, black-dyed hair, tight jeans, black spandex top, and come-hither look.

  “—and her brother Sam. He’s a student at San Jose State University. Criminology.” Sam had his sister’s dark hair and eyes. He looked like half a million other college students Corban saw every day: Levi’s, brown sports coat, white T-shirt, deck shoes, and no socks. Grinning, Sam extended his hand to the old lady. As Mrs. Reinhardt placed her hand in his, he lifted it with great ceremony and kissed it like a European count. Corban sneered inwardly.

  “This one’s a rascal.” The old woman actually sounded pleased!

  Susan laughed. “She’s already got you pegged, Sam.”

  Corban rose as Anne introduced him to the two. “Corban is a friend of my grandmother’s.”

  Corban stepped forward to shake hands. “Pleased to meet you both.”

  Sam’s eyes were cool and assessing as they shook hands. His grip was slightly harder than necessary. Corban smiled slightly. He could guess whom this joker wanted to impress, and it sure wasn’t Mrs. Reinhardt.

  “Corban’s a student at Berkeley,” Mrs. Reinhardt said. “He comes by and walks with me to the supermarket once a week.” She gave him a mischievous look. “And he has some bright ideas about how to manage the elderly.”

  “We were just going to make some lunch,” Anne said quickly.

  “Good. We arrived just in time,” Sam said.

  A look of distress filled Mrs. Reinhardt’s face. “I don’t know if—”

  Susan grinned. “No need to worry, Mrs. Reinhardt. We didn’t come to mooch. We stopped by the deli on the way. Sam bought enough to feed an army. Sandwiches, potato salad, coleslaw, dill pickles, chips, and carrot cake.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, you’re welcome,” Mrs. Reinhardt said, and they all laughed.

  All but Corban. “I wish I could stay,” he said drolly. He looked between Sam and Susan. “My girlfriend and I have plans for later this afternoon.” He saw the hard gleam leave Sam Carter’s eyes.

  Susan gave a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “Well, my goodness, that was certainly to the point.” She put her hands up and drew back as though his announcement had just made him a pariah. “No need to worry.”

  He gave a humorless laugh and held his hand out to Mrs. Reinhardt. When she placed hers in his, he didn’t kiss it. He put his other hand over it. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Mrs. Reinhardt. Thanks for the coffee.” Releasing her, he looked at Anne. “Can I talk to you for a minute alone?”

  She followed him into the living room, where he lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “Watch out for that guy.”

  “Sam’s harmless.”

  “Yeah, right. Do you think you’ll be spending weekends with your grandmother?”

  “It’ll depend on my work schedule.”

  “Where do you work?”

  She told him. “I’ll be over to see her as often as I can.”

  “Would you mind giving me your phone number?”

  “Not at all.” She looked around and spotted a notepad beside her grandmother’s chair, then jotted her number on a
slip of paper. Tearing it off, she handed it to him. “I just hope you won’t have to use it.”

  Corban could feel the heat coming up in his face. He felt as though he had just been slapped.

  She frowned slightly, searching his face. “I’m hoping I can get to know Arba Wilson.”

  “Who?”

  “The lady next door. We saw her at church this morning. It’s kind of you to want to keep an eye on Grandma Leota, Corban, but it really would be better if she got to know her neighbors. Besides, you only come on Wednesdays. If anything happened . . .”

  So she had believed his reason for wanting her phone number. “I think you’re right.”

  As he turned away, she put her hand on his arm. “I appreciate what you’ve done for my grandmother, Corban. She was alone until you came to help her.”

  He heard laughter in the kitchen. “She’s not alone anymore.” The house was too full for his comfort.

  “I think there’s room for one more. Or even two if you’d like to bring your girlfriend by sometime.”

  His mouth tipped. Now there was an idea. “Maybe.”

  “He’s good-looking,” Susan said when Annie came back into the kitchen.

  Annie laughed. “I’m not surprised you noticed, Suzie.”

  “And he’s taken,” Sam said pointedly. “He made that clear.”

  “So what?” Susan said. “Men change their minds, too, you know. How many girlfriends have you had and dumped?”

  Sam’s eyes darkened. “Dumped isn’t the word I’d use.”

  “Discarded? Left mooning for the sun, moon, and stars?”

  Annie could see Sam didn’t appreciate Susan’s ribbing. “It’s a pretty afternoon. Why don’t we have a picnic in the backyard? Would that be all right, Grandma?”

  “I think that would be a splendid idea. There’s more room to fight out there.” Her dry comment drew a surprised chuckle from both Carters. “You’ll find an army blanket in the guest room closet, honey.”

  Sam carried one of the old, American steel chairs out to the lawn for Leota. “Where do you want to be, ma’am?”

  “Right there is just fine.”

  Annie thought her grandmother looked darling sitting in the sunshine wearing a battered straw hat. Flapping open the army blanket, Annie spread it on the grass. Sam caught the other side and smoothed it for her while Suzie set out the cellophane-wrapped sandwiches and plastic deli containers. They’d even thought to bring a package of paper plates and packets that each contained a napkin, a plastic fork, spoon, and knife, salt and pepper, and a wet wipe.

  Sam surprised Annie and said a blessing. When he raised his head, she looked into his eyes, hoping he hadn’t done it just to make a good impression on her. Suzie reached for a plate. “What would you like, Mrs. Reinhardt?”

  “A little of everything, except a sandwich. Those big rolls are too hard for me to eat.”

  Suzie grinned. “My grandmother can’t eat them this way either. She says she’s worried her store-bought teeth would come out.”

  “It happens.”

  “Not to worry.” Suzie opened a sandwich and forked the fixings onto a plate. She cut half of the roll into bite-size pieces. “There you go, Mrs. Reinhardt. You can’t beat the taste of San Francisco sourdough.” She handed the plate to Annie.

  Annie added salads, garnishes, and chips and gave it to her grandmother. Sam’s hand brushed hers as she reached for a sandwich of her own. “Sorry,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.

  “Don’t be.” Sam held the sandwich out to her, a sultry look in his eyes.

  “Sam said he couldn’t get anywhere with you Friday night,” Suzie said, dark eyes dancing at them over an open soda can. “So he thought he’d give it another try today.”

  Annie blushed. “You didn’t have to go to such lengths, Sam.”

  “You mean, all I’d have to do is ask and you’d go out with me?” His mouth tipped.

  Annie could feel her grandmother watching them. “No, I didn’t say that.”

  Sam gave his sister a rueful look. “She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Probably because she’s been hearing about your antics since we were in grade school.”

  Sam looked at Annie. “People change.”

  She could see he was in earnest. “I know they do.” She had no doubt his life was much different from his wilder days, but that didn’t change her mind about becoming involved with him. She didn’t want to become involved with anyone right now. She didn’t know enough about herself to move into any kind of relationship. She was vulnerable. It would be too easy to make a serious mistake.

  “I’m cute, aren’t I?” A hint of devilry was back in his eyes.

  “Yes, you’re cute.”

  “Entirely too cute,” her grandmother said, drawing laughter from brother and sister.

  When Sam looked at Annie again, she lowered her head. He was attractive, disturbingly so, especially when his attention was focused on her. She had things to work out, things to think about deeply. If Sam’s life could change so much, perhaps other lives could as well. Starting with her own.

  Sam leaned toward her, reaching for a sandwich. “Relax, Annie. I’m not as bad as you might think.”

  “This yard must have been beautiful,” Suzie said, looking around.

  “Nice thing to say,” Sam said under his breath.

  Suzie grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out, Mrs. Reinhardt.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re exactly right. A pity you two didn’t come by yesterday.”

  “Why?” Sam said.

  “We would have put you to work. So far, Annie’s trimmed the front bushes, mowed my lawn, and pruned the fruit trees.”

  “Corban helped a lot,” Annie said and took a bite of her sandwich.

  “Yes, he did, but he’s gone now, and there’s a lot more to be done. I think this young gentleman is so eager to woo you, we could enlist his help.”

  Annie gulped down the bite of deli sandwich. “Grandma!” Her face was hot.

  Sam laughed. “Consider me enlisted, your ladyship.”

  “All right, young man. We’ll see if there’s more to you than charm and good looks. Eat your sandwich. You’re going to need your strength. As soon as you’re finished, Annie will show you where to find the tools. And then I’m going to tell you what to do and where to do it.”

  Chapter 11

  Nora sat in Pastor Burnie’s office, waiting. She realized she should’ve called before coming. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be left sitting where anyone might see her and wonder what she was doing here. She’d forgotten there was a Bible study today. Women were milling around in the great room waiting to begin their class. She’d also forgotten Pastor Burnie taught the class.

  If she hadn’t been so upset, she would’ve stopped to think what others might say about her coming to church for counseling. Now she felt exposed, humiliated, and angry. There was no privacy in this big church. Everyone knew everything about everybody. Maybe the Catholics had the right idea about going into a confessional. At least there people had privacy. Why hadn’t she realized when she saw all the cars in the parking lot that the women’s Bible study was meeting this morning? Half a dozen women had seen her come in. She recognized two, and they were probably talking about her right now. She’d had lunch with them. She knew what they were like. How they delighted in knowing and discussing everyone’s business!

  Uncrossing her legs, Nora crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. Her palms were sweating. Her heart was pounding. She was trembling. She wouldn’t be in this miserable situation if her psychologist, Dr. Leeds, had been willing to speak with her for longer than one minute! She’d been completely undone when his secretary told her the doctor’s schedule was full for the next two weeks. Two weeks! She’d told the woman she needed to speak with him right away, but the woman insisted he was with a patient and did not want to be disturbed. The patronizing tone of her voice had made Nora want to scream. I
nstead, she simply told the secretary she would not be put off. She’d insisted the secretary get Dr. Leeds on the line immediately; it was an emergency.

  He came on the line shortly after that, as she knew he would. She’d had to insist before. This time, however, he didn’t seem to care that she was in crisis. She could tell by his tone that he was angry with her. When she’d tried to explain, he said it was old territory and he would call her back at his convenience. When she said she couldn’t wait, he told her to take a Valium! He said he wanted her calm when he spoke with her. She told him she could be calm if he would speak to her right then, but he said, “I will speak with you later, Nora,” and hung up.

  After the thousands she had paid Dr. Leeds over the past three years, that’s all he had to say? Take a Valium and wait? If he’d given her five minutes of his precious time, she wouldn’t be sitting in the church office in front of God and everyone waiting for Pastor Burnie to be free enough to speak with her. This was all Annie’s fault! If she’d gone off to college where she belonged, there would be no reason to worry.

  Nora trembled with agitation. Seeing her mother always upset her. That’s what was wrong. A few minutes in the company of Leota Reinhardt was enough to undo a month of sessions with Dr. Leeds. Nora never remembered the breathing and meditation exercises the doctor had taught her until after she left her mother’s house. Dr. Leeds had told her to be honest with her mother. And say what? Tell her mother how much she despised her for abandoning her children, how she couldn’t stand to go back to that house, how her childhood had been miserable? She’d said all that a hundred times. Her mother knew—not that she cared.

  Nora raised a hand and pressed trembling fingers to her throbbing temples. It never failed. All she had to do was think of her mother and her head started to pound.

  What was taking Pastor Burnie so long?

  Nora crossed her legs again. She started thinking about Fred and how angry he was with her for not showing up for dinner with his clients. She had tried to apologize, but he wouldn’t even look at her. He scorned the omelet she had cooked for him. “When have you ever seen me eat breakfast, Nora?”