Angel’s Garden

Annie took the 2nd Avenue ramp as she always did on her drive home. For once, traffic had not been too bad, and she was excited that she’d still have three good hours of daylight to work in her vegetable garden. If things went well, she’d have those tomato plants in the ground and staked up before dark.

Since Vic’s death nine months before, gardening was the one thing that gave her any peace and joy. They had never wanted children as they were always busy with their careers and wanted the freedom to travel on their well-planned yearly vacations. Now she wondered at the choice they had made. Would children have made the loneliness and gut-wrenching pain any less? She’d never know.

As she pulled off the interstate and drove down the ramp, she noticed her, again. This was the third time she had seen the homeless woman in the past week. She wore an old sun hat probably picked up in someone’s trash or given out at the city’s homeless shelter where they kept a clothes closet.  Annie found herself trying to get a glimpse of the woman’s face, but she had the hat pulled too far down. She wore a long dress which had seen better days and old hiking boots.  How does one land standing on an interstate ramp selling newspapers for the homeless, she wondered.

The light changed and Annie quickly pulled past. She caught a very quick glance of dark brown eyes looking at her as she drove by the woman. Why she wasn’t old at all, thought Annie. Again, she wondered how one ended up homeless. Mental health issues? Addiction issues? She shook off the heaviness that had suddenly settled over her. As she pulled into the drive of her 1940s stone cottage, she reminded herself how grateful she was to have this place. The minute Vic and she had seen the house years ago, they knew it was home. The two had spent hours refinishing, building shelves, and placing tiles along the backslap in the cozy kitchen that overlooked the garden. They were DIYers before HGTV made it popular.

Standing in her kitchen, now changed from her work clothes into her garden togs, she stared out the window. She vividly remembered the day they placed the carefully chosen tiles from a trip to Morocco. Neither had ever tiled before and she could still hear Vic’s laughter as he had to redo a spot for the third time.

“Here we go! Third times a charm, or whatever the heck they say, right, love?” He brushed his mop of graying curls out of his face, squinting at the directions on the back of the caulking. Placing the tile once again, he turned back to her and smiled that brilliant smile that lit his whole face.

Scout, their Border Collie, nuzzled her hand and with a snap she was back in the kitchen alone. She would not cry, not today. Instead, she sighed and rubbed the top of his head. She knew that he missed Vic just as much. Vic had always been the first home and the one who took him for an afternoon stroll through the nearby nature reserve.

“Sorry bud, no walk this afternoon. You’ll have to settle for a romp in the garden with mum. We have tomato plants to get in the ground. We cannot have a summer without tomatoes, can we? Scout cocked his head and wagged his tail.

The screen door popped as they walked down the stairs into a sprawling English garden. Even though some plants native to the UK did not grow well in the US, many did thrive. They had gotten the idea from one of the garden’s they came upon while visiting the Cotswold’s years ago. Each plant had been placed strategically for the right amount of shade and sun. It was her favorite place to be and where she felt Vic’s presence the most. Over the past nine months, she had spent every available daylight hour in the garden sitting in the swing, crying, ranting, and missing him. There had even been a few moonlit nights she lay on the grass staring up at the sky wondering if Vic was looking down at her with that lazy grin he had when amused.

As she dug her small trowel into the rich soil of her raised bed, she asked for the millionth time, why? Why did you have to leave? Why couldn’t the chemo have worked like the doctors kept saying it would. Liars. All of them. There was never a response to any of her questions.

Her best friend, Emily, suggested she see a grief counselor, or maybe think about going to church. Annie had little faith in either source. How did one become a grief counselor? Grief was different for everyone. How could someone possibly understand such a personal, intimate thing as grief? As for church, no thank you. Annie’s family had never been church goers, but her grandmother was a devout Catholic. Annie’s mom drug her to mass on holidays and special days but it never made much sense to her. The idea of confessing your sins to an old man wearing musty robes in a closet seemed preposterous. If God was so loving, why was there suffering?

Her garden was her church. Nature with its wild and free spirit was her god. She found solace in watching a sunset sink before the horizon of the sea in Greece, and the wind whipping through the trees in Africa. As she removed her work gloves, she stood back to survey her work. Twelve little tomato plants were now snug in their new home and staked so they would have a place to climb. Twelve was probably six too many, but she had plans for the bounty. Salsa, pasta sauce, green tomato pickles…she envisioned jars of ruby red lining her pantry shelves.

Calling for Scout who had settled under a tree, the two mounted the steps up to the screened porch. Before Annie knew what was happening Scout lunged forward as he saw a squirrel sitting on the ledge of the porch. She tried to catch herself but plunged to the bottom of the steps, landing on her right arm. She heard a slight pop and then immense pain shot up her arm. The squirrel having exited the area quickly meant Scout was now next to her licking the side of her face. Almost to say, “I’m sorry, mum.”

Catching her breath, she tried to sit up. The pain in her right arm was horrific. Realizing it was broken, she eased off the ground as best she could and remounted the steps. Once inside the kitchen she found her cell and hit the speed dial for Emily. She answered on the second ring.

“Hey! I was just thinking about you. Did you get those tomatoes planted?” Emily’s familiar voice rang out.

“Yes, and I think I have broken my arm. Can you drive me to the ER?” Annie said as she eased onto a bar stool.

“I’m on my way.”

It was a clean break, the doctor said. No surgery; just healing and a sling for twelve weeks. Annie remembered those words as her eyes tried to focus. The pain meds had done their job because the sun was already streaming through her bedroom window. Twelve weeks? That was the entirety of the summer! How was she going to manage her garden upkeep and vegetable harvest?

She threw the comforter back and sat on the side of the bed. Scout was there immediately, nuzzling her as he was long overdue a potty break. She stroked his head. “You know, this is your fault, right? You will never catch that squirrel. He is on to your tricks and antics.” Scout merely wagged his tail and danced back and forth. ‘Okay, okay…let’s go.”

Rising slowly, she moved to the French door that opened into the side of garden and watched Scout gallop out into the day. She left the door open so he could come in when he was ready. Emily had set her coffee maker the night before, bless her. She hit the brew button and headed to the bathroom herself.

A few minutes later she was sitting on her porch with a fresh cup of coffee. Work was not an issue. She ran a small independent bookstore and her assistant manager, Wendy, could handle things if she wanted to take a few days. The sling was not necessarily uncomfortable, just cumbersome. What was uncomfortable was not being able to use her right hand properly. That would take some adjusting, but overall, she was grateful it had not been a worse break. She knew physical therapy would get the ball rolling back to full use. Surgery right now would not have been ideal. The real issue is the garden. How was she going to manage?

Emily had already recommended her yard guy, but Annie was not sold. Landscaping and grass care was different than tending a garden. She admitted she was a bit of a snob when it came to her garden. It would take someone skilled in plants and vegetables. She knew just where to seek help – Dan, and Esme at the organic grocery in her neighborhood. They had a small vegetable garden on site, and she knew they had a staff of volunteers that helped maintain things. Maybe she would feel up to making the trip later today. She had been prohibited from driving for two weeks, but it was an easy walk and Scout would love to tag along.

The sun felt good on her back as she and Scout made their way through the neighborhood later that afternoon. It was strange to be here during the daytime. You could hear the rustle of the leaves on the trees and music coming from a nearby backyard. It was peaceful. Rounding the corner, she found the small organic grocery bustling with activity. Garden of Eden was run by two aging hippies that had once lived on a commune in California. They had hung up their tent and started the grocery a little over ten years ago. Vic and Annie had become fast friends and had learned so much about planting from them.

The neighborhood dog park was conveniently next door to the grocery. As she opened the gate to let Scout enter, she waved at her next-door neighbor, Leslie, who was there with her aging basset hound, Baxter. Scout immediately joined Baxter and the two greeted one another by rubbing noses. She called out to Leslie, “Hi! Would you mind keeping an eye on him while I run inside Garden of Eden?”

“Sure! Take your time. What happened to your arm?” Leslie called back.

“Me and Scout did a dance and Scout won. Be back in a jiff.”  Annie waved with her good hand and turned toward the grocery. Leslie threw up her hand and nodded in reply.

The bell jingled on the door as she entered. The smell of soaps and candles at the front of the store greeted her nose. Ah, one of her happy places. She looked around for Dan or Esme and saw Dan at the back unloading fresh lettuce. Walking past the rows of beautiful produce, she spotted a fresh load of Brussel sprouts. Oh, maybe some roasted with balsamic and pistachios for dinner, she thought. Wait. How was she going to prepare that with one arm?

As she approached, Dan looked up from his work. “Well, hey there Ivy!” He had dubbed her Ivy because of all the vines planted in her garden. Immediately noticing the sling, he pointed, “Who have you been wrestling with?” He continued to load the fresh romaine into the display case.

Chuckling, Annie said, “Well, not sure I would call it wrestling, more like a mad dash by Scout to catch a squirrel. The squirrel won but I paid the price.” She turned to show off her sling. “I get the lovely pleasure of wearing this little jewel for twelve weeks!”

Dan whistled, “Man, what a bummer. That’s the whole of summer.”

“I know, right? That’s why I am here. I need your help. There is no way I can manage the upkeep of the garden by myself, plus I have tons of veg planted. Would know someone who is really great with vegetables?”

Dan smiled. He knew that Annie and Vic had always been very particular about their garden, and to their credit, it was like walking into a fairy tale. He stopped for a second. He knew just the person.

Placing the last bundle of romaine, he motioned and said, “Follow me.”

The two made their way to the back of the store and went into the garden. Raised beds were everywhere full of the wonders of nature’s bounty. Several workers were scattered throughout weeding or watering. Dan seeing his wife, Esme, working alongside another woman, headed to the very back of the garden to the herb section.

Talking over his shoulder, he said, “I am going to introduce you to our garden goddess. She knows everything there is about plants, herbs, and vegetables. She’s amazing.”

Hearing her husband’s voice, a lovely woman with long hair braided into a crown on her head stood up from where she had been potting basil as the two approached. Seeing Annie, her tanned face lit up.

“Ah, Annie. How ar…. hey, what’s this my friend?’ Esme advanced forward and touched Annie’s sling. The smell of patchouli and earth wafted in the air. Esme was one of the original flower children and loved the Earth and everything that grew upon it. Annie had liked her immediately the first time they met. When Annie thought of an Earth mother, Esme came to mind.

Once again, Annie recounted the story of Scout and the elusive squirrel. Esme was sympathetic and shook her head.

“You poor thing, and during the summer months too.”

Dan spoke up, “That’s why I brought Annie out. I was thinking that if she was interested that maybe Angel could help her this summer with the garden?”

Hearing her name, the woman who had been engrossed in her work behind Esme, looked up. Entangling herself from the rosemary she had been planting into tiny pots, she joined the three.

It took Annie a full minute, but she realized she was staring in the brown eyes of the homeless woman she had seen on the ramp selling newspapers.

The woman extended her hand, “Hello, I’m Angel.”