She climbed behind the steering wheel of the van, beyond relieved when Dixie stormed across the front lawn and joined her in the vehicle. “What is going on?” she demanded.
Gretchen couldn’t answer. She put the van in reverse and set them on the Lavender Highway toward home.
“Mom, I’m not a baby. Why did we have to leave?”
“Drew kissed someone else,” Gretchen said. “I—Joel won’t sell me the farmhouse next door.” She didn’t say that it was simply too hard to be around Drew right now. Too hard to look southwest and see the land she so desperately wanted and couldn’t have.
“But I wished,” Dixie said, her own tears falling. “I wished that you and Drew would fall in love and be together.”
“Yeah, so did I, baby.” Gretchen reached over and tousled her daughter’s hair. “Sometimes wishes don’t come true.”
“But Drew said—”
“Just because Drew says something doesn’t make it true,” Gretchen said with a heavy dose of harshness in her voice.
Dixie folded into herself and stared out the window. Gretchen had seen her do this exact thing after Aaron had died, and her heart shriveled to think she’d caused this sorrow for her daughter.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m going to go to bed.” Drew pushed away from the table where he sat with his mother and Joel. The kitchen light was too bright, and it hurt his head. He’d explained everything that had happened after he’d won the title Lavender King. Even his mom didn’t have anything to say, and Drew was tired of the silence.
First from Gretchen, and now from his mother, and then the house. Everything felt too quiet with Dixie and Gretchen gone, with the house so empty without them. And he knew he wasn’t the only one missing them, which only added to his guilt.
He could not believe Yvonne had kissed him. Kissed him right in front of everyone, on top of that platform. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming. She’d been texting him for a few months now, asked to meet him, and even after her apology and the supposed closure, the communication hadn’t stopped.
He hadn’t responded again, but he should’ve known. He entered his old bedroom and found all of Dixie’s things in there. His heart constricted, and he hadn’t known what to tell her when she’d rounded on him, her innocent face scrunched up in confusion, and demanded, “What’s going on?”
He’d told her she better hurry up and go with her mom, because Gretchen obviously wasn’t taking no for an answer. Dixie had stomped away then, and his fragile heart had cracked immediately.
It struggled to beat against the sight of her clothes, her shoes, and her hairbrush. He turned and went back downstairs, avoiding the kitchen and choosing to go into the living room instead. He could sleep on the couch as easily as driving home, and he pulled a blanket and a pillow out of the hall closet and kicked off his boots.
His Lavender King crown sat on the coffee table where he’d left it, and the light from the hall glinted off the gold finish. He’d thought he’d be so happy when he won that crown, and now all it symbolized was a day he never wanted to repeat.
He couldn’t sleep, and he picked up his phone and typed a message to Gretchen. I’m so sorry. She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her back. Please let me come talk to you tomorrow.
It was Sunday, and she didn’t open The Painted Daisy on Sundays. They’d been planning a day trip to the beach, and Drew’s spirits sank even further when he realized he’d probably be uninvited from that outing.
But he didn’t send the text. Gretchen had said she wasn’t upset about Yvonne’s kiss. Though Drew knew that couldn’t really be true, when he’d asked what was the problem, she’d said her granddad’s farm.
Gretchen wanted the farm.
“Joel,” Drew said as he swung his jean-clad legs over the side of the couch and sat up. He strode into the kitchen, where the lights still burned. His mother wasn’t there, but Joel sat at the dining room table, a bowl of pickle-flavored sunflower seeds in front of him.
“What if I wanted to sell the farm to Gretchen?” Drew asked.
Joel gave him a satisfied smile, which shrank back into the man’s serious face almost as fast as it had appeared. “Why do you think I’m still sitting here?”
The next morning, Drew walked through the farmhouse with Joel, a notebook in his hand so he could write down everything the carpenter said. He’d wanted to do this walk-through with Gretchen, but he hadn’t dared call her. He hadn’t sent her the text he’d typed out.
Over bacon and eggs, he’d sworn his mother to secrecy after he’d shared his plans to win Gretchen back. She was currently next door, packing up all of Gretchen’s and Dixie’s things, which she’d take into town later that afternoon.
“The floor’s in good shape,” Joel said. “We’ll sand it down and refinish it.”
Drew added that as the first item on his list.
“It needs appliances and furniture.”
Glancing around, Drew could easily tell that the farmhouse was much bigger than the home where he lived in town. His stuff would easily fit here, and he’d have to get some new pieces as well. He pushed the bathroom door open with the eraser on his pencil. “What about in here?”
Joel stepped to his side and peered into the room. “As long as the water works, that’s a functional bathroom.” He shouldered his way past Drew and twisted the faucet. The water sputtered, but it came on. “Looks good.”
“You don’t think we need a new tub or toilet?”
“You can get them, sure. Replace it all if you want.”
Drew didn’t know what he wanted. He wished Gretchen were here to have an opinion about it. He put tub? and toilet? on his list and moved with Joel to the hall that led back to three bedrooms.
“Master back here,” Joel said. “There’s another bathroom. Honestly this all looks great. Hire a cleaning service and come get it all freshened up. Then you can repaint if you want. Maybe get new carpet in these rooms. It’ll be good as new.”
The carpet certainly did hold a lot of dirt, and on a farm, in a very windy climate, the last five years had accumulated a lot of dust as well.
“Hello?” A woman called from the front of the house, and Drew’s heart started tapping at twice the normal speed. He met Joel’s eyes, and the older man went first, his boots clomping once they reached the hard floor.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice the unfriendliest Drew had ever heard it. So it wasn’t Gretchen.
Drew moved slowly, arriving at the mouth of the hallway to find Yvonne standing just inside the front door. “I came to apologize,” she said. “Again.”
He didn’t want to hear it. “You’ve already done enough,” he said, surprised at the icy edge in his own voice. He hadn’t placed any of the blame on her last night. No, he’d directed that all at himself. He should’ve told Gretchen about the texts. About the meeting in the park. Everything about Yvonne. Then she’d have more background to believe that her advances toward Drew weren’t welcome.
But now, faced with the woman who’d caused so much turmoil in his life, Drew’s frustration grew. “You should go.”
“I’m sorry,” she tried again, her eyes and voice desperate.
“You’ve said that.” Joel stepped in front of Drew, shielding him from Yvonne. “Please go.”
“All right, I’ll go.” She shifted so she could see Drew again. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” she said. “That picture on Facebook just sounded like she was someone you’d helped once.”
“She was,” Drew said.
“Should I talk to her?” Yvonne asked. “I’ll tell her it was all my fault, and you had nothing to do with it.”
Drew almost said yes, but then he remembered that it wasn’t really Yvonne that was the problem. “No, I can take care of it.”
She truly looked sorry as she turned and left the farmhouse. Joel faced Drew. “Why didn’t you have her go talk to Gretchen?”
“I can convince Gretchen th
at kiss wasn’t my fault,” he said. “But I need to show her that I love her, and want her to be in my life permanently. She needs to know she can rely on me. I need her to know that I don’t want this farm unless she comes with it.” He drew in a big breath. “And we’ve got a long way to go before it’ll be fit for her to live in. So let’s keep going.”
Joel followed him into the kitchen and deemed all the cabinetry could be sanded and painted and be good as new before he asked, “So you love Gretchen, huh?”
Drew nodded, wishing he felt happier about that fact. Wishing Joel hadn’t been the first one he’d told.
“So maybe she doesn’t need to wait until the farmhouse is finished to know that,” he said.
Drew didn’t answer. He simply followed Joel upstairs to the two bedrooms and the bathroom up there, wrote notes about the floors, the walls, and the windows. They assessed the deck off the kitchen, and the patio beyond that. And then of course, there was the yard and the gardens and the farm.
He didn’t need to get all of that in tip-top shape before he approached Gretchen. Just the house. And so it wouldn’t take six months or more until he could talk to her again, he needed to enlist some help.
On Saturday morning, almost a week later, he stood on the back porch of the farmhouse and surveyed the crowd he’d invited out to lunch and a day of hard work. His brother, Adam, who had brought Trent and his five-year-old son with him. Russ, who had nothing better to do in the evenings. His mother and Joel. And Janey, who had taken the most convincing to come. Not only had Drew had to explain that he’d done nothing wrong, that that kiss wasn’t his fault, and that he was trying to make things right, he had to get her to bring Dixie with her.
He’d called. He’d texted. He’d stopped by her house after work and begged.
And she’d finally relented. Dixie stood next to his mother, who kept her arm around her protectively. Jess waited only a pace away, and Janey right next to him.
“Thanks for coming,” Drew said, gripping his notebook extra tight. “My mom has pizza next door, and we’ll head over there and eat later.” He glanced at the house behind him. “So I want to get this house fixed up fast. I had a cleaning crew come through this week, and we’re ready to sand floors and cabinets, paint walls and trim, and move in a few pieces of furniture.” He toed the deck, where some of the boards had come loose. “And stabilize this deck.”
Drew had already explained to everyone there what he needed their help with. “So let’s get started.” He turned and crossed the deck to be the first to enter the house, footsteps cascading behind him. He had gone with Joel to buy the bright white trim color for the ceilings and baseboards. The gray would go on all the walls. Boxes of blinds waited in the living room, along with cans of stain for the floor, two industrial sanders Joel had rented, and every other home improvement tool Drew could think of.
He’d gone to the bank and qualified for a home equity loan to pay for everything, and Adam stepped over to the painting supplies and started handing out rollers and brushes to people. He spoke in his Chief of Police voice and sent people to different rooms to do various tasks.
Soon enough, only Drew remained near the painting supplies, which had been stacked near the back door.
“Drew?”
He turned at the innocent sound of Dixie’s voice. He crouched down to her height and pulled her into a hug, hoping she hadn’t felt abandoned by him this past week. Thankfully, she willingly accepted his embrace, her slight shoulders shaking as she cried.
“I’m so sorry, Dix,” he said, his voice thick. “I messed up.”
“I guess everyone makes mistakes,” she said, pulling back.
“I’m trying to fix it. You know that’s what this is, right?”
She swiped at her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Janey told me.”
“And you can’t tell your mom.” He looked at her and wiped her eyes too. “It’s a secret until I’m ready to try to win her back.”
Alarm raced across her face. “She’ll ask me what I did with Jess today.”
“You just tell her…a version of the truth. You played, and painted some stuff, ate pizza, and had a good time.”
“That’s not lying?”
Drew couldn’t help smiling at her. “I don’t think so. And when the house is finished, I’ll somehow get your mom to come out here and see it, and I’ll apologize, and—” He cleared his throat, his plans for getting Gretchen back not quite as solid as they probably should be.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me,” he finished, speaking as strongly as he could. “Would that be all right with you?”
Dixie nodded, a fresh set of tears tracking down her face.
“Why are you crying then?” Drew never wanted to see the girl cry again. It hurt his heart too much, and Dixie had already endured so many painful things.
“Because that was my wish,” she said in a voice higher than normal. “I’ve wished everyday for three months that you would marry my mom, and I didn’t think it was going to come true.”
Surprise streamed through Drew as he hugged Dixie again. “So maybe with really big wishes that involve more than one person, it takes more than a month.”
That got her to laugh, and Drew touched his forehead to hers. “All right, Miss Dixie. If you don’t want to be a liar, you’re going to have to get some work done around here.” He straightened and handed her a paintbrush. “Go find Jess and do whatever he’s doing.”
Dixie saluted with the paintbrush and headed up the flight of stairs just to the right of the back door. Drew watched her go, his heart as light as it had been since the Lavender Festival.
He glanced up at the ceiling, which was a horrible shade of yellow, and sighed. There was still a long way to go before he could bring Gretchen out here to this farm and propose.
As he picked up a rotary sander and joined Joel on sanding down the cabinets, Drew started brainstorming ways he could get Gretchen to come out here. He hadn’t seen her once this week in the gardens, not that he was at his parents’ farm at seven-thirty anymore.
No matter what he did, he knew his first contact back with her would have to be meaningful and magnificent. Her old walls of refusing to rely on anyone else had probably been re-erected, and he’d have to find a way to break them down.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gretchen yawned and it wasn’t even noon yet. She finished the funeral pieces and set them in the refrigeration unit for the family to pick up. Her nerves assaulted her, because it was Augustus Hammond and his daughter Yvonne who needed the funeral arrangements. Glenny Hammond had passed away, after only a few months’ battle with cancer.
Gretchen hadn’t seen or spoken to Drew in almost a month. She hadn’t seen or spoken to hardly anyone in that time, except Janey and the customers she had. When Augustus had come to order the flowers, Yvonne hadn’t come with him, but she fully expected to see the woman today.
She’d never been so lonely as she had been this past month, not even after Aaron died. After the funeral had ended, after everyone had gone home, it had just been her and Dixie. But since Gretchen had taken Dixie from the lavender farm, the girl hardly spoke to her anymore.
Sabra said she was fine at the daycare. She talked to the other kids, got along great, and seemed to be having fun. Janey took her whenever possible, and all Gretchen could get out of her was that she and Jess had painted that day.
Gretchen had never known Dixie to like to paint so much. She still practiced her piano every day as requested, and she snuggled in bed with Gretchen most nights. She’d simply…lost her voice. Gretchen supposed she couldn’t blame Dixie. She’d acted similarly after her dad had died.
But Drew wasn’t her father.
As Gretchen looked at her calendar to check what the next event was, a flash of understanding hit her. Dixie had viewed Drew as her father—or at least the man she wanted to take the job.
“How did I miss that?” she asked the empty shop. The sunflowers she’d harves
ted that morning didn’t answer. She sighed, her decision to cut Drew out of their lives wavering. It did every day, sometimes more than others. She didn’t believe he’d been having a secret relationship with Yvonne behind her back. She didn’t believe he’d knowingly stolen her granddad’s farm from her. But sometimes she still felt betrayed. And sometimes she was angry. But most of the time she simply experienced sadness. Sadness that she didn’t have someone her own age to talk with after work. Sadness that she and Dixie couldn’t go out to the lavender farm anymore. Sadness that she’d lost Donna and Joel as friends. Sadness that she couldn’t kiss Drew whenever she wanted.
She heaved one of those sad sighs just as the bells on the front door jangled. Mabel Magleby walked in, clutching a fistful of papers in her hand. “I hope you’ve been keeping your roses in bloom,” she said. She smacked the papers on the desk where Gretchen sat. “Five weddings before Halloween.” She beamed at the paperwork. “One of my busiest autumns.”
“Five weddings?” Gretchen looked at the top paper. Shellie Blackbriar. Five years younger than Gretchen, she ran the nail salon on Wedding Row.
A single block on the other side of Main Street, Wedding Row boasted everything a bride needed: hair salon, nail artist, dress shop, shoe store, a tailor, a jeweler, and a travel agency for all the honeymoon necessities. There was a florist over there too, and from what Gretchen understood, Molly Panatier and her shop, The Blushing Bride, did absolutely fine.
Gretchen examined the paper Shellie had filled out at the Magleby Mansion. “She wants all dahlias?” One of Gretchen’s favorite wedding flowers, dahlias came in all shapes and sizes. She flipped the page as Mabel confirmed. “And Nancy Allen wants thistle, lavender, and other native plants.” She glanced up at Mabel. “Interesting.”