Red Lily
Page 81
Her life might’ve been strange at the moment, but she didn’t think a dog could have moved the umbrella or brought her a blanket.
Even as she cleared sleep from her throat and pushed herself up, Stella came out the back door bearing two glasses of iced tea.
“Nice nap?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I slept through it. Thanks,” she added as she took a glass of tea. “What time . . . Wow.” She blinked at her own watch. “I was out for almost two hours.”
“Glad to hear it. You look better.”
“I hope to God. Where are the kids?”
“Logan picked them up after school. They like going to jobs with him. Gorgeous out, isn’t it? The perfect day for drinking tea on the patio.”
“Everything okay at the nursery? This kind of weather brings people in.”
“And it did. We were busy. Look at those crepe myrtles. I love this yard,” she said with a sigh.
“You and Logan have done an amazing job. I was thinking that before. What a good team you are.”
“Turns out. Who’d have thought a cranky disorganized know-it-all and an anal-retentive overachiever could find true love and happiness?”
“I did. Right from the start.”
“I suppose you did. Smartie. Have you eaten?”
“I wasn’t really hungry.”
Stella wagged a finger. “Somebody in there might be. I’m going to fix you a sandwich.”
“Don’t fuss, Stella.”
“PB and J?”
With a shake of her head, Hayley gave in. “No fair. You know my weaknesses.”
“Sit right there. The fresh air’s good for you. I’ll be back in a minute.”
True to her word, Stella was back not only with the sandwich, but a sprig of purple grapes, bite-size wedges of cheese. And a half a dozen Milano cookies.
Hayley looked at the plate on her lap, then up at Stella. “Will you be my mommy?”
With a laugh, Stella sat on the chaise at Hayley’s feet. And began to rub them in a way that had every muscle in Hayley’s body sighing in relief. “One of my favorite things about being pregnant was getting pampered once in a while.”
“Missed that the first few months the first time out.”
“So, you’ll make up for it with this one.” Stella patted Hayley’s leg. “How you feeling—gestating-wise?”
“Good. Tired, you know, and up and down on the emotional scale, but pretty good. Better now,” she added after another bite of the sandwich. “And I hate admitting that—a long nap, comfort food, it’s doing the job. I’m going to take care of myself, Stella, I promise. I was careful carrying Lily, and I’ll be careful this time, too.”
“I know you will. Besides, nobody’s going to give you a choice.”
“I get . . .” She moved her shoulders restlessly. “Funny when everybody’s worried about me.”
“Then you’ll have to get funny, because we can’t help it. Not with everything that’s going on.”
“Last night, it was so . . . I’ve used all the words before. Strong, strange, bizarre, intense. But this was the most of all of them. Stella, I didn’t tell Harper everything. I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t tell him what I felt. He’d wig, the way guys do. I’m counting on you not to.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s a feeling—and I don’t know if it’s just stress or if it’s real. But I feel. Stella, she wants the baby. This baby.” Hayley pressed a hand to her belly.
“How—”
“She can’t. No power on this earth, no power anywhere, is strong enough to push me aside. You know, because you’ve had a child inside you. Harper, he’d freak.”
“Explain this to me, so I don’t.”
“She gets mixed up is the best way I can explain it. From the here and now, to back in her own time. She wavers back and forth. When she’s in the now, she wants what I have. This child, the life, the body. Even more, wealth and privilege. She wants the sensations and the payoff. Do you understand?”
“All right, yes.”
“She’s much more frightening, much more selfish when her mind’s in the now. When it’s back, when she’s caught up in what happened to her, it’s like it is happening. Then she’s just angry and vindictive, so she wants someone to pay for what happened to her. Or she’s sad, and pitiable, and she just wants it all to stop. She’s tired. Harper thinks she committed suicide.”
“I know. We talked a little.”
“He thinks she hanged herself in the nursery. Right there while the baby slept. She could’ve done it. She was lost and crazy enough to have done it.”
“I know that, too.” Stella rose, walked to the edge of the patio to look out over the yard. “I’ve been having dreams again.”
“What? When?”
“Not here, not at night. Daydreams, you could say. At work. On Harper ground. Images like before of the dahlia. The blue dahlia. Only it’s monstrous. That’s how she wants me to see it. Petals like razors, waiting to slice your fingers to ribbons if you touch it. It’s not growing out of a garden this time.” She turned back; met Hayley’s eyes. “But out of a grave. Unmarked, black dirt. The dahlia is the only thing that grows there.”
“When did they start?”
“A few days ago.”
“Do you think Roz has had them, too?”
“We’ll need to ask her.”
“Stella, we have to go up to the old nursery.”
“Yes.” She walked back, took the hand Hayley held out to her. “We will.”
IT WAS EASY to talk without men when the announced activity was wedding planning. Men, Hayley noted, scattered like ants when terms like guest lists and color schemes were mentioned.
So they were able to sit on Stella’s patio in the balm of the evening with Lily being passed from one pair of arms to another, or playing in the grass with Parker.
“I didn’t think it would be so easy to chase Harper off,” Hayley complained. “You’d think he’d want some input into the wedding plans. He’s getting married, too.”
Roz and Stella exchanged amused looks before Roz reached over, patted Hayley’s hand. “Sweet, foolish child.”
Even as she cleared sleep from her throat and pushed herself up, Stella came out the back door bearing two glasses of iced tea.
“Nice nap?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I slept through it. Thanks,” she added as she took a glass of tea. “What time . . . Wow.” She blinked at her own watch. “I was out for almost two hours.”
“Glad to hear it. You look better.”
“I hope to God. Where are the kids?”
“Logan picked them up after school. They like going to jobs with him. Gorgeous out, isn’t it? The perfect day for drinking tea on the patio.”
“Everything okay at the nursery? This kind of weather brings people in.”
“And it did. We were busy. Look at those crepe myrtles. I love this yard,” she said with a sigh.
“You and Logan have done an amazing job. I was thinking that before. What a good team you are.”
“Turns out. Who’d have thought a cranky disorganized know-it-all and an anal-retentive overachiever could find true love and happiness?”
“I did. Right from the start.”
“I suppose you did. Smartie. Have you eaten?”
“I wasn’t really hungry.”
Stella wagged a finger. “Somebody in there might be. I’m going to fix you a sandwich.”
“Don’t fuss, Stella.”
“PB and J?”
With a shake of her head, Hayley gave in. “No fair. You know my weaknesses.”
“Sit right there. The fresh air’s good for you. I’ll be back in a minute.”
True to her word, Stella was back not only with the sandwich, but a sprig of purple grapes, bite-size wedges of cheese. And a half a dozen Milano cookies.
Hayley looked at the plate on her lap, then up at Stella. “Will you be my mommy?”
With a laugh, Stella sat on the chaise at Hayley’s feet. And began to rub them in a way that had every muscle in Hayley’s body sighing in relief. “One of my favorite things about being pregnant was getting pampered once in a while.”
“Missed that the first few months the first time out.”
“So, you’ll make up for it with this one.” Stella patted Hayley’s leg. “How you feeling—gestating-wise?”
“Good. Tired, you know, and up and down on the emotional scale, but pretty good. Better now,” she added after another bite of the sandwich. “And I hate admitting that—a long nap, comfort food, it’s doing the job. I’m going to take care of myself, Stella, I promise. I was careful carrying Lily, and I’ll be careful this time, too.”
“I know you will. Besides, nobody’s going to give you a choice.”
“I get . . .” She moved her shoulders restlessly. “Funny when everybody’s worried about me.”
“Then you’ll have to get funny, because we can’t help it. Not with everything that’s going on.”
“Last night, it was so . . . I’ve used all the words before. Strong, strange, bizarre, intense. But this was the most of all of them. Stella, I didn’t tell Harper everything. I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t tell him what I felt. He’d wig, the way guys do. I’m counting on you not to.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s a feeling—and I don’t know if it’s just stress or if it’s real. But I feel. Stella, she wants the baby. This baby.” Hayley pressed a hand to her belly.
“How—”
“She can’t. No power on this earth, no power anywhere, is strong enough to push me aside. You know, because you’ve had a child inside you. Harper, he’d freak.”
“Explain this to me, so I don’t.”
“She gets mixed up is the best way I can explain it. From the here and now, to back in her own time. She wavers back and forth. When she’s in the now, she wants what I have. This child, the life, the body. Even more, wealth and privilege. She wants the sensations and the payoff. Do you understand?”
“All right, yes.”
“She’s much more frightening, much more selfish when her mind’s in the now. When it’s back, when she’s caught up in what happened to her, it’s like it is happening. Then she’s just angry and vindictive, so she wants someone to pay for what happened to her. Or she’s sad, and pitiable, and she just wants it all to stop. She’s tired. Harper thinks she committed suicide.”
“I know. We talked a little.”
“He thinks she hanged herself in the nursery. Right there while the baby slept. She could’ve done it. She was lost and crazy enough to have done it.”
“I know that, too.” Stella rose, walked to the edge of the patio to look out over the yard. “I’ve been having dreams again.”
“What? When?”
“Not here, not at night. Daydreams, you could say. At work. On Harper ground. Images like before of the dahlia. The blue dahlia. Only it’s monstrous. That’s how she wants me to see it. Petals like razors, waiting to slice your fingers to ribbons if you touch it. It’s not growing out of a garden this time.” She turned back; met Hayley’s eyes. “But out of a grave. Unmarked, black dirt. The dahlia is the only thing that grows there.”
“When did they start?”
“A few days ago.”
“Do you think Roz has had them, too?”
“We’ll need to ask her.”
“Stella, we have to go up to the old nursery.”
“Yes.” She walked back, took the hand Hayley held out to her. “We will.”
IT WAS EASY to talk without men when the announced activity was wedding planning. Men, Hayley noted, scattered like ants when terms like guest lists and color schemes were mentioned.
So they were able to sit on Stella’s patio in the balm of the evening with Lily being passed from one pair of arms to another, or playing in the grass with Parker.
“I didn’t think it would be so easy to chase Harper off,” Hayley complained. “You’d think he’d want some input into the wedding plans. He’s getting married, too.”
Roz and Stella exchanged amused looks before Roz reached over, patted Hayley’s hand. “Sweet, foolish child.”
