The Mirror - Page 189

“Oh God. One step at a time,” she muttered. “One step at a time. I’m taking off the brake. I’m putting it in drive. Just FYI, I will not attempt to back it in again if we survive this trip.”

Holding her breath, she eased on the gas. “We’re moving.”

“If we move at this speed, we might get there in time for the end-of-summer sale.”

“All right.” Face grim, Sonya vised her hands on the wheel. “Remember, you asked for it.”

She made it down the drive, turned onto Manor Road.

“I’m driving a freaking truck.”

“I’m driving it back!”

Somewhere along the twenty-minute drive, Sonya’s legs stopped shaking. She almost enjoyed it.

What she enjoyed, thoroughly, was wandering the big garden center outside Poole’s Bay, debating with Cleo on what to buy, asking for advice from staff, other customers.

She figured what they didn’t know about gardening they made up for by knowing color, shape, texture. And they’d both studied up on the basics.

Maybe the bare basics, but the basics.

They wanted scent, too, and herbs. And because she got completely caught up, what she felt were adorable tomato plants, some peppers, bags of soil, cute gardening gloves, fertilizer, a shiny new watering can, wind chimes.

Then they saw her, the fairy with the dreaming face and spreadwings. She held a crystal ball in her hand, powered by solar, as she bent over as if to sniff the blooms.

“Son, we must have her.”

“Cleo, we must.”

In the end, they bought so much—even with the fairy and what they deemed a goddess holding a solar lantern riding in the back seat—it all barely fit into the bed of the truck.

“We lost our minds,” Sonya decided.

“I can’t argue, but God, this is fun.” Cleo rubbed her hands together. “I’m taking the wheel.”

After they got home, it took a full hour to haul everything to the back, to place the statues where they felt they belonged while Yoda and Pye sniffed at everything.

They put up and filled the hummingbird feeder, assured bears wouldn’t come calling there.

Then armed with spades, gloves, soil, and a bevy of plants, they started on the pots they’d already placed.

A kind of art, Sonya thought as she mixed colors, shapes, varied heights.

“I need one of those spilly-over things.” As she reached for one, she studied Cleo’s pot. “That’s beautiful, and you know, so’s mine. We can’t kill them, we just can’t.”

“We won’t. We’re going to take good care of them, and if we mess something up, we’ve got Jerome. Plus, if Eleanor takes care of the solarium plants, maybe she’ll keep an eye on these, too.”

Pausing, she looked over at Sonya.

“You had to see where he—it had to be Jerome—prepped that area where I can put the herbs. I can walk out of the kitchen and cut what I need. The tomatoes and peppers can go over there, too. It’s good light.”

By the time they finished the pots and realized they had enough left for half a dozen more, Anna dropped by.

“I heard you two loaded up the truck. And now I see my information was accurate. Just wow.”

“We went overboard.” Sonya pulled off her gloves.

“Not possible. You can use what’s left to fill in the beds, and still go back for more.”