Thyme to Depart Copy, page 2
“I’m sorry Nora, Harry saw an opportunity, and he took it.” Lizzie said, gasping for air from her sprint to catch the cat.
“It’s not any different from any other day. Harry and I wage an ongoing battle. But he does no harm, and the bacon was going to go in the garbage, anyway. It’s Harry’s weight I worry about. But maybe now that he’s not roaming the hallways of the college, he can hunt mice in the greenhouse and work off some of that weight.”
Lizzie and Nora stared at each other for a second and then burst out laughing. The idea of Harry chasing a mouse was funny. Harry was quite content to watch a mouse, but chase them? Not a chance. That was for the barn cats. He was so above that type of work.
“Harry’s going to have to get used to some new rules now that we’re here full time, isn’t he?” Lizzie asked.
“I have a feeling he’s not the only one who’s going to need to get used to a new routine,” Nora said as she handed Lizzie a glass of cold water.
Lizzie gulped the water down, thinking about what the woman had said. She was the third person who, within a matter of an hour, had basically told Lizzie she needed to find a hobby. She smiled ruefully at the older woman and gave a shrug.
“Don’t worry, it won’t take me long to find a project. And I promise I won’t disrupt your routines around here.”
Nora Meadows gave an unladylike snort. She knew full well that Lizzie was going to want to get her hands into the operations of the B&B. It was best she found a project quickly for the sake of all the staff. Lizzie put the glass in the sink and looked out the window, watching Harry meander his way across the grounds toward the greenhouse. She didn’t worry about him wandering the property. He had his own favorite haunts, and everybody looked out for him. He was too lazy to run away and seemed to have that sixth sense, like most cats, to watch out for danger. If only he’d use those senses to stay out of trouble.
Lizzie let her gaze wander from the troublesome cat to the view that greeted her from the window. Individual cottages with classic gingerbread trim painted in pretty pastel colors, each with an individual little garden, sat across from the greenhouses. One or two of the cottages had their front door open as guests were carrying their suitcases inside to begin their weekend at the bed-and-breakfast. There were seven cottages in all, each one individually painted and surrounded by custom landscaping so the guests would have a unique experience. Returning guests often deliberately asked for a different cottage so that they could find the hidden treasures that each one offered.
The main house, from where Lizzie looked out the window, was a three-story southern plantation home. Over the years, her family had converted it into a bed-and-breakfast, and in all, there were nine rooms that could be rented out. Mrs. Meadows had her own room off the kitchen, and of course, Lizzie had her suite, one of three on the top floor. The bed-and-breakfast was all part of an old plantation. Over the years, the acreage had dwindled down as the family sold acres off for need of money or to reduce upkeep. Now there were just twelve acres, and much of that was devoted to gardens.
“We’re booked full for the weekend, right?” Lizzie asked.
“That’s right, and most of the guests are here for your retirement party. So, there will be no disappearing into your suite or the gardens this weekend; you’re going to have to play hostess,” Mrs. Meadows answered, and Lizzie could hear the warning in her voice.
The older woman knew her well, and after years of living together, understood that Lizzie would just as soon work in the gardens or retreat to her suite to read a book than mingle with the guests. She wasn’t snobbish or standoffish, she just liked her privacy and downtime. But now that she was retired, there would be plenty of downtime and she smiled back reassuringly at the older woman.
“Not to worry. I promise to be on my best social behavior. Actually, I’m looking forward to it; there are a few people coming that I haven’t seen in years, and I’m looking forward to catching up with them.”
“Well, let’s put you to work right now so you’re not tempted to steal away. Can you go to the kitchen garden and bring me some of these herbs?” Mrs. Meadow shoved a piece of paper in Lizzie’s hands and gave her a slight push toward the door. Glancing down at the list as she picked up the basket that sat on a chair by the door, always ready and waiting to collect flowers, herbs, veggies, or plants from greenhouses, Lizzie nodded in agreement. But Mrs. Meadows wasn’t paying any more attention to Lizzie. She’d given her the instructions and was moving on to her next task in the kitchen. Smiling to herself, Lizzie walked out the back kitchen door and followed the pathway that led to the kitchen gardens which sat between the greenhouses and the guest dining room.
“And don’t be all day. There are plenty of other chores that need to be done before the rest of the guests arrive.” Mrs. Meadows’s voice followed Lizzie as she closed the door behind her, and she smiled to herself. Mrs. Meadows was in her glory, giving orders, and Lizzie didn’t know how the B&B would run without her.
Lizzie turned from the direction of the cottages and started following the Chattahoochee stone driveway toward the kitchen garden. She loved the sound of the crunching of the tiny stones underneath her feet, and when a car arrived, there was no need for an announcement. The sound of the wheels against the gravel let everybody know someone was arriving. The late afternoon sun was still hot, and it beat down on Lizzie’s head, reminding her she’d forgotten to grab the hat that was always hanging by the door. With the smells of the garden guiding her, she picked up her pace, knowing there was shade just around the corner. Most of the herbs were planted in semi-shade to keep the scorching sun from burning their delicate leaves. The vegetables took advantage of the full sun, and the flowers were mixed in along the border, the brightly colored marigolds being the prominent flower. They were planted to deter the rabbits, an old wives’ tale that Lizzie wasn’t so sure worked. Especially when she saw a rabbit sitting on the edge of the bed nibbling on some parsley.
“Shoo, you better get out of here,” she scolded the rabbit, clapping her hands at the same time. The little animal looked up at her, but then continued to nibble on his favorite herb. It wasn’t until Lizzie got closer that he took off, scurrying to another part of the garden. Laughing to herself, Lizzie started collecting the herbs on her list for Mrs. Meadows. She knew full well the rabbit would be back as soon as she walked away. But there was plenty for everyone, and she didn’t have the heart to chase him off any further.
It didn’t take long to collect everything on the list, and she looked over the basket’s contents, pleased with what she saw. Everything looked healthy, bug free, and tempting. On impulse she reached into the basket and snapped off a sprig of peppermint, popping it into her mouth.
“I’m no better than the rabbit,” she snickered to herself.
“I saw that!”
Lizzie was so startled she almost dropped the basket, and she turned to see who was shouting at her from the other side of the garden. Her face lit up with a smile when she saw it was the head gardener and researcher for the greenhouse. Giving a wave, she started toward him, eager to find out what he was working on.
Chapter 3
Lizzie shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight and tilted her head back to gaze at the man standing in front of her. The enormous straw hat he wore kept his eyes in the shadow of the hat’s brim, but his smile was warm and welcoming.
“You done for the day, Josh?” Lizzie asked, instead of a greeting.
“Yea, I’ve sent the crew home for the day. I still have a few things to see to.” He hesitated for a moment and then added, “Do you want to see the flowers on our hybrid rose?”
“It’s in bloom already? I’d love to see it. Is it everything we hoped for?”
Josh Benningfield merely nodded as he turned and led the way into the greenhouse. Lizzie was used to his abrupt ways. He was a man of few words, but he was a magician with flowers. Lizzie spent the next twenty minutes oohing and awing over the beautiful rose and going over the meticulous records Josh had kept on all the crossbreeding he had done to come up with the final result. She noted that he’d already applied for the patent and smiled when she read the name he’d given the rose in honor of her family. Higgins Star.
“This is wonderful, Josh. I know you and your team have been working on this for a while.” He shrugged, and she continued, “So what is the next project you all are going to tackle?”
Josh quickly went into detail about what was next on his list. This was about the most talkative the young man got. He loved to talk about his research or flowers. Lizzie didn’t mind. They were kindred spirits, and she could spend hours talking to him about the ins and outs of his work. Until this point, she hadn’t really had a lot of time on her hands to spend in the greenhouses, but she hoped Josh would let her pitch in on the next project.
The greenhouses were mainly set up for research purposes rather than retail production, although they sold some products to the guests who stayed at the B&B. The greenhouses had been on the property for years, and Lizzie had invited the college to use her facilities. Josh had started out as an intern and quickly advanced to be the greenhouse manager. Now he had college interns under him doing what was needed for his research as well as maintaining the gardens around the plantation. It was a win-win situation. The students got firsthand experience and some excellent teaching, while the plantation got the labor to keep it up.
Lizzie was looking over some of his notes as he rambled on. When he finally paused, she looked up to ask him a question. But he was no longer paying attention to her, he was watching something outside the greenhouse, and she turned her head to see what he was looking at.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“Not sure. I’m assuming it’s one of your guests.” Josh pointed, his eyes trying to get a better look at the woman who was turning the corner of the greenhouse. “I’ve seen her before, somewhere around town.”
Lizzie looked surprised at his answer and moved as if she was going to go after the woman, but Josh put a hand on her arm and stopped her. “There’s nothing she can get into out there. All the entrances to the greenhouses are locked up. Maybe she just wants to wander the gardens.”
“Of course, I’m sure you’re right. We get many people that come in just to wander the gardens and spend some quiet time,” Lizzie agreed with him. She glanced down at her watch. “Oh shoot, I’ve been here way too long. Mrs. Meadows is going to be sending out the recruits trying to find that basket of produce I’m supposed to be gathering for her.”
“You’d better go. The last thing you want is to be on the bad side of Mrs. Meadows.”
They shared a knowing look, and then Josh started collecting his notes, stacking them neatly while Lizzie picked up the basket and hurried back toward the main house.
Nora Meadows didn’t say a word to Lizzie when she showed up at the kitchen door with the basket of cuttings from the garden. She didn’t need to; her look said it all.
“Sorry, Nora. What do you want me to do next?”
The woman was all business, and for the next couple of hours, she kept Lizzie on her toes, doing one task after another. The B&B was going to be full tonight. Not only were the regular guests coming, but several out-of-towners were coming in for Lizzie’s retirement party as well. By the time Lizzie was done making the last bed and freshening up the vase of flowers at the entry, she had a new appreciation for all Mrs. Meadows did.
There was a lot of work in running the B&B, and Lizzie had always just left it in Mrs. Meadows’s hands while she went to work every day at the college. Nora Meadows never complained; she loved her job, and she would have been offended if Lizzie had offered to do more than the occasional work. It was the perfect solution.
“Thank you, Lizzie, that’s all I need for now. You still have time to run upstairs and get ready for your guests. As you walk past the kitchen, grab Harry, and take him upstairs. I saw him sneak in there a few moments ago.” Nora was standing at the dining room entry, admiring the floral arrangement Lizzie had just completed.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?” Lizzie asked.
“No, most of the guests have checked in, so there’s just a few left, and you’ve got their rooms ready. There’s nothing else to do until the last of the guests arrive and we can sit down for dinner.”
Nora wiped her hands on her apron and made a shooing motion with her hands, pointing toward the kitchen. Lizzie grinned back at her and hurried into the room to find out what trouble Harry was into. The cat was sitting on the window seat eying the kitchen counter, and Lizzie had a feeling if she hadn’t come in at that moment, he would’ve jumped up onto the counter in search of more of that tasty bacon he had had earlier.
“Come on, Harry, you know you’re not supposed to be in here,” Lizzie said as she scooped the cat up in her arms.
Harry didn’t fight her; he knew he was in the wrong. Lizzie was sure he did most of this troublemaking just to aggravate Mrs. Meadows. She scolded the cat in a low whisper as she hurried upstairs to the third-floor suite, eager to get ready to greet the guests who were coming. By the time Lizzie came back downstairs, freshly showered and changed into casual clothes, she could hear the voices of the new arrivals in the entry. She recognized the voice of an older woman, and she picked up her speed, rushing down the stairs, almost tripping over her own feet in her hurry. She arrived at the entry, slightly out of breath, but grinning from ear to ear when she saw her old friend.
“Charlotte! It’s so good to see you,” she called out. The older woman with perfectly groomed silver hair turned to greet Lizzie, her arms open wide. Lizzie returned her hug and then stepped back, noticing a young woman had joined them and was watching the exchange.
“This can’t be Emma? Look at you, you’re a stunning young woman; you look just like your mom.” Lizzie wrapped the young redhead in a warm hug, then stepped back to stare at her. She was amazed at the resemblance she had to her mother, an old college classmate of Lizzie’s. Before either woman could answer Lizzie, the front door was thrown open by Trisha, Kevin following behind her.
“Charlotte Potter, it’s great to see you again.” Trisha rushed forward to grab the older woman’s hand and then turned to stare at the redhead. “You must be Emma Cassidy. We’re going to have such a great weekend. Emma, I can’t wait to tell you all the trouble your mother, Lizzie, and I used to get into at college.”
Before Lizzie could protest about Trisha’s plans, Kevin stepped forward, introducing himself. “I’ve heard so much about the two of you. Lizzie was so excited when she found out you were coming here for her party.” He shook Charlotte’s hand and then turned to Emma and grinned. “And I’m thrilled you’re staying on to do your internship with me. I hope you’re willing to work hard. There’s plenty to do.”
The group laughed at his words, and Emma nodded eagerly. Making a motion with her hands, Lizzie invited the others into the family room, where they could sit and catch up with each other. For the next half an hour, guests who were staying at Azalea Plantation wandered into the main house, making their way to the large family room to meet the other guests as they waited for dinner to be served. Not all of those staying at the B&B took their meals at the main house; all the cabins had fully operational kitchens, but this was a special weekend, and most who were staying were there to celebrate Lizzie’s retirement.
Old friends greeted each other warmly, and new arrivals were introduced to all as they joined the others. By the time dinner was announced, the noise level in the room had risen enough to make Harry take flight back up to the sanctuary of the suite he shared with Lizzie.
Chapter 4
Lizzie put her hands on her hips and stared down in frustration at the cat sitting in the middle of the bed. This was the third time she’d moved the cat from the pile of pillows at the top of the bed. “Fine, I don’t have any time to argue with you, cat. You’ll just have to be made into the bed.”
Grabbing the corner of the sheets, she didn’t give the cat the opportunity to even realize what was happening before she pulled the sheet up and over him with a flourish, encompassing him into the little nest he had made amongst the pillows. Next came the blankets, and she could hear Harry meowing in protest underneath.
“I warned you, Harry.”
Not giving in, Lizzie turned and grabbed her sunglasses and tote bag from the chair by the door and left the suite. But somehow Harry disentangled himself from the sheets and got down to the bottom of the stairs before her. The fat cat sat in the middle of the bottom step staring up at her, a look that said ‘how dare you’ on his face. His whiskers twitched as he stood in place, making Lizzie go around him. She walked away and then turned around and scooped the cat up into her arms, snuggling with him for a moment before putting him on the soft chair at the end of the stairs.
“You always have to have it your own way, don’t you, Harry?” She mumbled as she walked away.
Opening the front door, she found that Emma Cassidy was already waiting for her, and with a murmured apology, Lizzie motioned for the younger woman to follow her to her car.
“Who were you talking to?” Emma asked, as she did her seatbelt up and turned to look at Lizzie.
“My cat Harry, who thinks he is the master of Azalea Plantation. He is stubborn, but I love him to death.”
Putting the car in gear, Lizzie backed out of her space and headed down the Chattahoochee stone drive toward the main road. The two women shared a laugh, and then Emma turned to look out the window. “Those azaleas are beautiful. I’ve never seen any so stunning,” she said as they drove closer to the road.
“They are beautiful, aren’t they? I don’t know what the original name of the plantation was, but years ago, when my family took it over, they changed the name to Azalea Plantation after these beautiful shrubs that had been planted under the live oak trees. The only problem is they don’t bloom all the time. But when they do, they’re spectacular,” Lizzie said.
