Free Jennifer's Garden by Dianne Venetta Page A

wanted her independence.  She wanted her own place.  Even if it was in a nursing home .
    “Come,” she said, patting the cotton blanket.  “Let’s visit.  Tell me all about your new garden.”
    Jennifer obliged without thinking, settling into the chair beside her.  “I have a landscaper,” she said flatly.
    “Marvelous!”
    “Maybe yes,” Jennifer tempered her enthusiasm, “maybe no.”
    “What?”
    At her mother’s confounded look, she explained.  “He’s a bartender,” Jennifer said, not bothering to conceal her concern.  “On the side of his landscaper business.”
    “Bartender?”
    “Yes.  We actually met for the first time at Michael’s party the other night.  You remember, the one he held for Catherine’s engagement?  Well, this fellow was there, tending bar.”
    “Oh, heavens!”  Beatrice exclaimed, as though this were bad news, indeed.
    “It was only a favor to Michael.  He insists landscaping is his first priority,” she assured, placating her mother’s sudden alarm.  “Seems he and Michael are friends.  In fact, it was his recommendation I relied on in my selection.”
    Beatrice’s eyes expressed disappointment over the development.  “Doesn’t Michael understand you want a professional job done?  You want design work, not someone who’s going to plant a few bushes here and there.”
    Jennifer nodded, her mood pinched by her mother’s concern.  “He does, but Michael swears this fellow is the one.”
    “Are you certain?”
    No, she wasn’t certain of anything.  “He came by this morning and had some good ideas.  He’s supposed to drop the drawings by tomorrow.”
    “So soon?”
    Her thoughts exactly.
    Beatrice eyed her warily.  “I’d be a bit leery, if I were you.”
    “Yes,” Jennifer echoed her mother’s sentiment.  She was bothered, too but time had clipped her wings on this one.  She knew of no one else to call.  “I’m willing to withhold judgment until we see what he comes back with tomorrow.”
    As if she had a choice in the matter.
    “Do you have someone else lined up in the event his work is unacceptable?”
    “Not yet.”  Jennifer’s body sagged at the admission.  “But not to worry,” she assured with a confidence she didn’t feel.  “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll find someone.”
    But what Jennifer saw in her mother’s eyes could have been a reflection of her own.  Tension.  They didn’t have time to spare, should his promises prove hollow.
    Jennifer dodged her gaze, and landed upon the fresh bouquet of roses she brought today.  Sitting atop the mobile swing-table, the flowers did little to add warmth, cheer.  They were merely a skimp of color to an already well-decorated room.
    Her gaze drifted.  The picture frames scattered across her mother’s dresser and nightstand, filled with images of family and friends, didn’t do much either. 
    While lovely memories, they were just things.
    And things didn’t matter.  Not when illness came to call.
    “When will you receive his proposal?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “So soon?”
    “That’s what he says.”
    Her mother didn’t look pleased.  “Maybe I should call someone.  In the event his design falls short.”
    Jennifer shook her head.  “Please, let’s wait.”  This was her responsibility and she would make it happen.  “His ideas actually sounded quite good this morning.  He may surprise us.”
    Beatrice lifted her brow.
    “Tomorrow I’ll have a better idea and if need be, we’ll call someone else.”  Adding more names to the list of prospective hires only added delay.
    Somewhat pacified, her mother agreed.  “Okay.  But call me first thing in the morning.  I know several people with possible connections in the landscape design business.”
    Of course she did.  Beatrice Hamilton was a venerable institution in the Gables.  If she didn’t know them, they knew her.  Of her.  The woman was a dynamo of action when she set her mind to it.
    “Now