Loralee quickly slid her feet into her heels and stood. The sudden movement made her light-headed, and she gripped the back of the bench while remembering to smile. “I’m over here,” she said, not wanting to risk her balance by waving. Waving would probably annoy Merritt anyway.
Merritt approached the bench, then stopped, her hands on her hips. “There’s a stone rabbit statue on my front porch. Do you have any idea where it came from or why it’s there?”
“I found it at Walmart over on Robert Smalls Parkway when I took Owen to the grocery store this morning, and all of their garden statuary was on sale. Isn’t he adorable? I left him there so you could decide where you’d like him, although if you ask me, I’d say this old guy here could use some company.”
Merritt blinked rapidly, like she was hoping each time she opened her eyes she’d see something different.
Loralee continued. “You can dress him up for each holiday. I actually have a Santa outfit and an Uncle Sam hat and jacket. I think it makes a house look more festive for the holidays.”
Merritt didn’t smile. “I find that hanging out a flag or putting up a Christmas tree usually does the trick.”
Loralee had a brief flash of her old homeowner association meeting, where she could insert Merritt at the head of the table. Loralee sat carefully, her eyesight still spotty. “Yes, well, you don’t have to put the bunny in the front yard. Like I said, I think it would look great back here.”
Merritt was about to speak, but her attention was distracted by something next to Loralee. Loralee followed her gaze to her pink book, held open by the elastic band.
“Do you like it? It’s just a rough sketch, but I wanted to show you what your garden is supposed to look like.” She picked up her journal and held it out for Merritt. “You can still see the original beds, and I recognize a lot of the plants, since they also grow in Gulf Shores. Same climate, I guess.
“Anyway, when we knew we’d be in the same place for a while, Mama always grew pretty flowers, and she had a nice vegetable garden so I wouldn’t miss out on eating my greens. When we moved into the trailer, we had flower boxes so we wouldn’t notice the rust so much. I think I could make this place look real nice again. A lot of the work will be removing all these weeds, although I hate to do that, because I feel like I’m judging which plant is right and which is wrong, and I was raised not to judge, because then I might be judged.” She forced a smile, trying desperately to get Merritt’s face to soften, to stop looking as if she were always bracing for a crash. “I thought maybe I could help you bring the garden back to its original beauty, give you a nice place to sit and read or drink sweet tea. There’s even enough green space for a little pitchback for Owen. He’s not great at baseball, but maybe he just needs more practice.”
When Merritt still didn’t smile, Loralee felt her own smile faltering. Desperate, she blurted out, “My mama always said that to plant a garden meant you believed in tomorrow.”
“A pitchback for Owen?” Merritt asked through lips that looked like they were made of glass.
Loralee was relieved Merritt chose to mention the pitchback instead of bringing up her mama again. She relaxed. “Yes. I think once we get all the overgrowth cleaned up, there will be plenty of room. . . .” The last word trailed off as she watched Merritt’s expression.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “We’ll make sure that it’s not near any windows, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Merritt sat down heavily on the bench and took a deep breath. She flattened her hands, with their short unpolished nails, against her shapeless black skirt. “You’re planning on staying longer than a week, aren’t you?”
Loralee bit her lip, tasting lipstick, and realized her mistake. It seemed all her hopes and plans had lunged ahead of where she actually was. Which was nowhere, really. She’d made it past the front porch and inside Merritt’s house, but not really much farther than that. Definitely not far enough to where she could tell Merritt that she and Owen planned to stay awhile.
Loralee considered denying it, but knew there was no point. The truth would come out eventually. It always did—something else her mama had taught her. So instead she nodded, not taking her eyes from Merritt’s, almost afraid that if she did, Merritt would bolt like a scared deer.