Must Love Flowers, page 2
Jared had never seemed to mind that neither of his sons had chosen to follow him into the medical field. Steve had graduated college with a degree in supply chain management, and Nick had become an apprentice carpenter directly out of high school. Her husband had been good like that, not putting pressure on their boys, allowing them to follow their own paths. Joan was the one who had hoped either Steve or Nick would one day take over Jared’s practice, but that was not to be.
Her phone buzzed, indicating she had an incoming text.
“I think that’s Nick now,” she said, her heart leaping with appreciation that he would soon stop by for dinner. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Don’t forget to send a photo after Charlene finishes with your hair.”
“Will do. Gotta scoot.”
Joan quickly ended the call with Emmie and checked the incoming text.
It was Nick, who preferred to text over making a phone call. He apologized that he wouldn’t be able to join her for dinner after all.
No reason. No excuse.
Once again, as she had the last four years, she spent her birthday alone.
Chapter 2
Joan stared at the computer screen as she pondered which letters to choose for Wordle. This was how she routinely started each morning. The word game helped keep her mind fresh, along with the thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle of the Eiffel Tower that she was currently working on. Impossibly small pieces were spread across the top of the kitchen table. At one time this oak table was where she served her family meals. These days it was used for multiple purposes, none of which included family or eating.
It used to be…
That was what her life had become: a series of all the things that once were but were no longer.
Joan scooted her chair away from the computer and wandered into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee when she heard the front door open. For just an instant, a spark of fear shot down her spine, until she remembered the deadbolt was in place. Only someone with a key could gain entry.
“Mom?” Nick shouted, as though he expected her to be standing by the front door, awaiting his arrival.
“In here.” She came out of the kitchen, holding the coffee mug as she met him in the foyer. He stood in front of the staircase that led to the two large upstairs bedrooms. It was those bedrooms that had sold Jared on the house in this community. The master bedroom was on the main floor, away from the boys, who tended, especially in their teen years, to stay up until all hours of the night.
Her son stared at her for a minute before his dark brown eyes, so like his father’s, narrowed into a frown.
Immediately concerned, she asked, “Everything okay?”
A multitude of problems tumbled through her mind like a rockslide racing down the side of a hill. Had her son lost his job? Did he get into a car accident? Had Nick received a concerning medical diagnosis?
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he returned, sounding distracted.
“That’s good,” she said, sighing with relief. She had enough troubles of her own and felt unable to cope with anything more. “The thing is, you usually don’t show up first thing in the morning. What’s up?” She let him follow her into the kitchen, where she automatically got him a cup of coffee. Like his father, Nick was addicted to caffeine.
“We’re getting a later start this morning, waiting on an inspection,” Nick said. He sat down at the table and stared at the puzzle, which was about three-fourths completed. He picked up a piece, examined it, and then set it in place.
It was all Joan could do not to stop him. This was her puzzle, and she preferred to work it herself. The satisfaction she gained, the sense of accomplishment, was why she diligently spent hours poring over it. She didn’t need help and, furthermore, didn’t want it.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for your birthday,” Nick stated matter-of-factly.
“You sent me a text.” But he hadn’t given her a reason why he’d been unable to come. She suspected he opted to spend the day with his friends and watch the Seahawks game. The pan of chicken enchiladas remained untouched in the refrigerator. Before he left, she’d make sure he took it with him, otherwise she’d end up tossing them in the garbage.
Nick shifted his gaze away from her. “Sorry, I was working.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Mom, we’re on a tight schedule with this project. If we don’t finish our part on time, then we hold up the other trades. Let me tell you, those electricians can get downright cranky if we aren’t done when they’re ready to run the wiring.”
“I hope they’re paying you overtime.”
Glancing up from the puzzle, Nick grinned boyishly. “Yup, which brings me to the reason for my visit.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, seeing that I missed dinner with you, how about I take you out to eat?”
The invite surprised her in a pleasant way. Joan couldn’t remember the last time she dined out. She ordered DoorDash on occasion, and Uber Eats, too. It seemed nonsensical to leave the house to dine alone. It used to be…There it was again, like yeast bubbling up in dough. She and Jared had had a routine date night.
At one time, she’d kept in touch with friends. A group of classmates from college had routinely gotten together for lunch three or four times a year. That hadn’t happened since the pandemic. It seemed everyone had gone their separate ways since the lockdown.
After Jared’s sudden death from a massive brain aneurysm, Joan had been bombarded with sympathy and support from family and friends. That, however, had quickly died off, and then with COVID there was almost complete silence. It’d remained that way.
“Well, what do you think?” Nick asked, breaking into her thoughts.
For one wild moment, she struggled, thinking it best, safer, to decline, but then she changed her mind. Dinner out shouldn’t intimidate her. Becoming familiar again with leaving the house was what she needed, if she was going to move forward in life. Emmie would be pleased to know Joan was making an effort.
“Ah, sure. Where would you like to go?”
“Mom,” he said, grinning. “It’s your birthday; you decide.”
“You want me to decide?” Crazy as it sounded for a woman who managed a busy office, handled everything outside of the actual dentistry, she suddenly found it difficult to make even the smallest decision.
“Yup, I’ve got money to burn,” he said, looking well pleased with himself. “Any restaurant in town.”
“What if I say I want to dine at Canlis?” The iconic Seattle restaurant often had a several-weeks waiting list. Jared and Joan had dined there on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It was a meal she would long treasure. The staff at Canlis had made it special.
Nick didn’t even blink. “Doubtful I could get a reservation, but I’ll try.”
Joan enjoyed teasing her son. “Do you think Il Lucano survived the lockdown?” The family-owned Italian restaurant had been one of her and Jared’s favorites. Joan had never tasted a better Eggplant Parmesan anywhere.
“I don’t know,” Nick said, and grabbed his phone from his pocket. He connected with Siri and within half a second had the information he wanted. Looking up, he smiled and nodded. “Looks like they’re in business, and so are we. I’ll call and make reservations for tomorrow night at six thirty. Sound good?”
“It sounds perfect.” It astonished her how much this invitation excited her. It’d been ages since she’d had something special to look forward to. Seeing that the invitation had come from her son made it even more special.
“I better head to work,” Nick said, as he stood from the table and delivered his empty coffee cup to the kitchen sink. “I’ll come by tomorrow at six. Be ready, okay?”
“Of course, and after dinner you can take home those enchiladas.”
His eyes lit up. “My favorite. Thanks, Mom.” Nick kissed her cheek before he headed out the door.
Both excited and hesitant, Joan went straight to her bedroom closet to check what she had to wear for a night out. As she passed the full-length mirror on the closet door, she did a double take. No wonder her son had given her that strange look when he’d first arrived. She looked dreadful. She hadn’t combed her hair and had dressed in old jeans and a Seahawks sweatshirt that had faded from multiple washings. She wore slippers and hadn’t so much as put on lipstick. The contrast was striking, even to her, from the days she’d gone into the office with Jared. It used to be that she took pride in her appearance.
It used to be with a lot of things, she admitted. So much had changed, and not for the good.
Rather than stare at her reflection, she hung her head, embarrassed by the lack of attention to herself and how much of her personal appearance she’d let slide. This was the third day in a row that she’d worn the same tattered jeans and the faded sweatshirt.
Other than to step onto the porch to collect the mail, it’d been a week since she’d ventured outside. It used to be she had the most beautiful yard on the block. She was known for her love of flowers. Now it was rare for her to venture outside the house. So much loss, so much grief. Even the pride she had in herself had fallen by the wayside. Little wonder Nick had looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her as his mother. Joan barely recognized her own reflection, let alone the woman she’d become.
It was then that she remembered the birthday gift from Emmie. No better time for a hair appointment than before a dinner date with her son. Refusing to continue berating herself, Joan headed to the dresser, where she’d left Emmie’s birthday card. Opening it, she reached for the gift certificate and felt almost giddy. She was going out, and when she did, she planned to be dressed to the nines, whatever that meant. First things first, she needed an appointment, and went in search of her phone. She had a bad habit of leaving it all over the house. It took several minutes to locate it on the en suite bathroom counter.
As she swept it up, her gaze fell on the unmade bed, and it stopped her cold. While working, she’d never left the house unless the dishwasher was empty of clean dishes. And the bed made. Never. Somehow, without even realizing it, she’d let the little things that had at one time been important slide along with everything else, including her appearance.
With a vengeance, she set aside the phone and hurried around the king-size bed and put it to order, placing the decorator pillows in place. They’d been tucked in the corner for weeks, abandoned and forgotten, which was how Joan felt most days.
Once she was finished, she felt a small sense of accomplishment. She retrieved the phone and sat on the edge of the mattress while she went through her contact list for Cutting Edge salon. The receptionist answered, and Joan realized how ridiculous she was being. It was doubtful she’d get an appointment on such short notice. Charlene was often booked weeks ahead. How foolish of her to think her friend would alter her schedule at the last minute for her.
“Hello,” the receptionist repeated.
“Oh, sorry,” Joan said, realizing she hadn’t spoken. “This is Joan Sample, and I’d like to make an appointment with Charlene for a cut and style.” On the spur of the moment, she decided to leave the gray. She’d earned those silver hairs and she wasn’t going to hide them. It was what it was.
“Charlene doesn’t have anything available in the next two weeks. When would you like the appointment?”
Exactly what Joan suspected. “I thought that might be the case.”
Apparently, she didn’t hide her disappointment well, because the receptionist continued, “We have a new girl, Bailey. She’s very good and she has several openings, if you’re looking for something sooner.”
If she waited two weeks for Charlene, Joan feared she’d find an excuse to cancel. “I don’t suppose Bailey has an opening for tomorrow afternoon?” It was almost too much to hope for.
“She had a cancellation just this morning. Would three o’clock work for you?”
“It would. Yes, that’d be perfect.”
“Great. I’ll put you down. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow at three for a cut and style, Joan.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure,” the pleasant young woman said before disconnecting the call.
Joan felt like skipping around her bedroom. Once and for all, she was going to get control of this dustmop that was her current hairstyle. Enough was enough. It was a small thing and yet it felt like a huge accomplishment.
Next, she checked out her closet and spent several minutes shuffling hangers from one side to the other before she chose a silk blouse with a flower pattern that had a simple tie at the neck. The navy-blue skirt had been one of Jared’s favorites. He had never failed to compliment her when she wore it.
An unexpected wave of grief hit her, nearly swamped her with a profound sense of loss. The excitement she’d so recently enjoyed left her as quickly as it’d come, leaving her bereft. It was the little things she missed most about her life with Jared. The shared smiles, the jokes that meant nothing to anyone else but that would send them both into fits of laughter. His gentle touch before he turned out the light each night, his words of love and appreciation. All that had been taken from her, and she didn’t know if she could find a future without him being part of it.
Jared was the love of her life. They met in college and from the day they’d been introduced there had been no one else. They were meant to be together. It wasn’t half a life without him. It was no life. A mere existence.
Swallowing down the self-pity, Joan returned to the kitchen, determined not to allow herself to sink into the black hole of emotions. Tears threatened, which she furiously blinked back. Since Jared’s death, Joan had wept buckets and often woke at night, even now, her cheeks wet as she stirred awake. She carried her grief like lead weights around her heart. Some days the pain was so intense, she wondered why his loss hadn’t killed her.
It was noon before she was hungry. She turned on the local news, although she didn’t know why. All that was reported was the weather, traffic difficulties, and updates on the continuous crime spree. While half-listening to the reporter, she studied the puzzle as she munched on an apple, which she dipped in peanut butter. That was the way Steve, her older son, preferred to eat his apples. Joan had to agree it was a good way to mix fruit and protein. Thinking about her older son brought to mind their last conversation. It’d felt as if he couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. It disturbed her. At another time she would have asked what happened with him and Zoe. She’d been comfortable to let the conversation slide and regretted that now.
She heard the mailman on the porch, and, having nothing better to do, she opened the door and reached for the few items in the box, which was attached to the left side of the outside door. Most of her bills were paid online these days and almost everything that came through the post office was junk. She wasn’t expecting anyone else to remember her birthday, but she couldn’t keep from wishing.
Standing over the kitchen garbage can, she automatically tossed in the Safeway sales flyer along with several postcard advertisements. One for a hot tub sale and another wanting to replace her rain gutters. If she went so far as to call for a bid, she could receive a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card. Whoop-de-do.
The next piece of mail caught her attention. It was from the homeowners’ association, and it was personally addressed to her. Joan tore open the envelope and read the letter.
Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut and wanted to stomp her foot. According to the HOA board, she had gone against Section 104 of the homeowners’ agreement, signed and dated by both Jared and her. Her yard maintenance was below standard and had become an eyesore to the community, lowering property values. They found this especially distressing, as she’d once had such a lovely yard. Immediate action was required. She was given fourteen days to comply before a heavy fine would be assessed.
Yard maintenance. Joan so rarely left the house that she hadn’t noticed how badly the lawn needed mowing. Looking at the current condition of her flower beds depressed her, so she avoided noticing.
Jared had always taken care of the yard while she worked the flower beds. Nick had been by a few times last summer to mow the lawn, but only when she called to ask for his help. She knew yardwork wasn’t his thing and she hated to ask. Nick viewed it as a chore and could be unreliable, as evidenced by his brief text on her birthday. Feeling the weight of being single, Joan slumped into a chair, wondering how best to resolve this issue.
Setting her jaw, she refused to be a helpless female, looking for someone else to solve her problems. She had a college degree and a level head. She’d do what others in her situation did: She’d hire a lawn service.
Chapter 3
Maggie Herbert grabbed her backpack as she quietly slipped out her bedroom door. The key was to leave the house before her father woke. She had the early shift at Starbucks, and the mornings were always crazy busy, which was good, because it helped to pass the time quickly before she headed to Seattle Central College for classes.
Leanne, who handled the cash register, was down with the flu, which just happened to coincide with a trip to the ocean with four friends. The manager had asked Maggie to fill in for her until Leanne was back. Maggie wasn’t any expert on the flu, but she suspected the illness would last three days. Maggie was willing to take on any task given to her, as long as it didn’t interfere with her afternoon nursing classes and her tutoring schedule at the elementary school. Finals were coming up soon, and she’d been awake studying until almost midnight and was operating on less than four hours’ sleep.
