Read Online Some Enchanted Season by Marilyn Pappano - Free Book Online
Authors: Marilyn Pappano
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restaurant.”
“You did?” It was news to him. He didn’t know she’d had any interest in restaurants besides eating in them regularly.
“For a while. I even went so far as to scout out locations and plan a menu.”
“I never knew.”
Maggie shrugged. “You don’t invest in restaurants, and at the time, you weren’t very invested in me.”
Though he wished he could dispute the accuracy of her response, he couldn’t, not truthfully. “Why didn’t you give it a shot?”
“Frankly, I didn’t think our marriage could survive both of us up to our necks in business matters.”
“It’s not too late. As I recall, Bethlehem has a couple of places downtown, a steak house, and the restaurant at the inn. They’d probably be happy with someplace new.”
“Great. I find a good market, and I can’t even fry bacon.”
“So … you want to feel sorry for yourself?”
She gave him a long, wry look before shifting her gaze to the windows. “No. I want to go out.”
“Out as in outside or out into town?”
“Into town.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“To a—a—” She grimaced, and her cheeks turnedpink. “A place that sells flowers and bulbs and—and gardening things.”
“A nursery,” he supplied quietly.
“Nursery.” She repeated it softly to herself, as if doing so might ensure that she wouldn’t forget again. “I want to go to a nursery.”
“Why don’t you check the phone book for one?”
With a look around, she spotted the phone above the built-in desk near the fireplace. The phone book was on its side in a cubbyhole underneath, a slim volume only a fraction of the size of the Buffalo directory. She flipped through the Yellow Pages, passed the N’s, and returned. “There’s only one,” she said after a moment’s scrutiny. “Melissa’s Garden. On Eighth Street. Do you have any idea where that is?”
“The street on the side here is Fourth.”
“So Eighth is four blocks in one direction or the other.”
Ross nodded. “What are you looking for?”
“Bulbs. Irises, tulips, daffodils.”
“Isn’t it kind of late for planting flowers?” The instant the question was out, he wished he could call it back. Before the accident, he would never have questioned her knowledge of anything. But she’d awakened from the coma knowing nothing about a lot of common, everyday things. His careless question was now making her wonder whether she knew anything about gardening.
For a moment she looked as if the insecurity might win. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, and the determined look came into her eyes. “I don’t know. But the Winchesters said if the groundcan be worked, then it’s not too late, and they’re across the street, planting, right now.” A faint humor crept into her expression. “What can go wrong? Bulbs are forgiving. Even if you plant them upside down, they grow down an inch or so, then turn and come up anyway.”
“Then get your coat while I take care of the fire.”
He hadn’t even reached the fireplace, when the phone rang. Maggie’s jaw tightened as she passed it. “It’s for you.”
She was right. It was Lynda, looking for someone to vent her frustration on. With the phone balanced between his shoulder and ear, Ross half listened while he banked the fire and moved the metal screen into place.
“You have to do something, Ross,” Lynda finished in a hot-tempered rush, “or he’s going to blow this whole deal. You have to talk to him.”
He wavered. It would be so easy to agree, to tell her to call Tom to the phone, to mediate this dispute just as he’d mediated countless others. But if he did, then Lynda would have just one more question. Tom would want his input on one other issue, and before he knew it, it would be as if he’d never left the city.
“I’m not going to talk to him for at least a few more months,” he said, hoping he sounded more determined than he felt. “You two are in charge, remember? Work it out.
“You did?” It was news to him. He didn’t know she’d had any interest in restaurants besides eating in them regularly.
“For a while. I even went so far as to scout out locations and plan a menu.”
“I never knew.”
Maggie shrugged. “You don’t invest in restaurants, and at the time, you weren’t very invested in me.”
Though he wished he could dispute the accuracy of her response, he couldn’t, not truthfully. “Why didn’t you give it a shot?”
“Frankly, I didn’t think our marriage could survive both of us up to our necks in business matters.”
“It’s not too late. As I recall, Bethlehem has a couple of places downtown, a steak house, and the restaurant at the inn. They’d probably be happy with someplace new.”
“Great. I find a good market, and I can’t even fry bacon.”
“So … you want to feel sorry for yourself?”
She gave him a long, wry look before shifting her gaze to the windows. “No. I want to go out.”
“Out as in outside or out into town?”
“Into town.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“To a—a—” She grimaced, and her cheeks turnedpink. “A place that sells flowers and bulbs and—and gardening things.”
“A nursery,” he supplied quietly.
“Nursery.” She repeated it softly to herself, as if doing so might ensure that she wouldn’t forget again. “I want to go to a nursery.”
“Why don’t you check the phone book for one?”
With a look around, she spotted the phone above the built-in desk near the fireplace. The phone book was on its side in a cubbyhole underneath, a slim volume only a fraction of the size of the Buffalo directory. She flipped through the Yellow Pages, passed the N’s, and returned. “There’s only one,” she said after a moment’s scrutiny. “Melissa’s Garden. On Eighth Street. Do you have any idea where that is?”
“The street on the side here is Fourth.”
“So Eighth is four blocks in one direction or the other.”
Ross nodded. “What are you looking for?”
“Bulbs. Irises, tulips, daffodils.”
“Isn’t it kind of late for planting flowers?” The instant the question was out, he wished he could call it back. Before the accident, he would never have questioned her knowledge of anything. But she’d awakened from the coma knowing nothing about a lot of common, everyday things. His careless question was now making her wonder whether she knew anything about gardening.
For a moment she looked as if the insecurity might win. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, and the determined look came into her eyes. “I don’t know. But the Winchesters said if the groundcan be worked, then it’s not too late, and they’re across the street, planting, right now.” A faint humor crept into her expression. “What can go wrong? Bulbs are forgiving. Even if you plant them upside down, they grow down an inch or so, then turn and come up anyway.”
“Then get your coat while I take care of the fire.”
He hadn’t even reached the fireplace, when the phone rang. Maggie’s jaw tightened as she passed it. “It’s for you.”
She was right. It was Lynda, looking for someone to vent her frustration on. With the phone balanced between his shoulder and ear, Ross half listened while he banked the fire and moved the metal screen into place.
“You have to do something, Ross,” Lynda finished in a hot-tempered rush, “or he’s going to blow this whole deal. You have to talk to him.”
He wavered. It would be so easy to agree, to tell her to call Tom to the phone, to mediate this dispute just as he’d mediated countless others. But if he did, then Lynda would have just one more question. Tom would want his input on one other issue, and before he knew it, it would be as if he’d never left the city.
“I’m not going to talk to him for at least a few more months,” he said, hoping he sounded more determined than he felt. “You two are in charge, remember? Work it out.
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