Thirty and a Half Excuses
Page 47

 Denise Grover Swank

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My eyes filled with tears at the thought. This went against everything I’d believed to be true my entire life. Momma had literally beat it into me that my visions were evil. While part of me was beginning to think differently, it was a hard lesson to unlearn.
“Your vision for me and my wedding was a beautiful thing. You said so yourself. You said it made you so happy. How can that be bad?”
I shook my head, no retort springing to mind.
“God gave you this for a reason. Rose.”
“And what if Momma was right? What if it’s a demonic talent?”
“You seriously don’t believe that, do you? You’re the sweetest person I know.”
I glanced away. “I don’t know.”
“Just think about it, okay? I hate to see you do this to yourself. Violet is wrong. Hiding yourself from people close to you can’t be a good thing and you know it. You need to give people a chance. You’re just presuming the worst of ‘em.”
I nodded. Deep down, I knew she was right. But knowing it and believing it were two different things.
Chapter Fourteen
A little after lunchtime, there was a lull in customers, so I snuck away to check on Bruce Wayne and David. I’d intended to visit before the nursery opened, but I hadn’t wanted to bring the kids. Muffy had done great around the shop, and she’d entertained several children while their parents shopped, but I decided to take her with me to the church.
When I pulled up the guys were sitting in the shade, eating their lunch. Bruce Wayne started to stand, but I waved him back down. “Don’t get up. I’m just here to see how you’re getting on.”
“We’re almost done.” David said through a mouthful of sandwich.
Muffy jumped out of the car and made a beeline through the grass.
“What is that?” David asked, watching her.
“It’s my dog.”
“It’s an ugly thing, ain’t it?”
If one more person besmirched Muffy’s looks, I wasn’t going to be held responsible for my actions. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I frowned my disapproval. I was a firm believer in if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. “She’s a good dog.” I added defensively.
Muffy wandered past David, and he began frantically waving a hand in front of his face. “I thought you said it was a dog. She smells like a skunk.”
I shrugged. “Muffy has some fiber issues.”
Bruce Wayne chuckled as Muffy stopped next to him, and he scratched behind her ears. “I think she’s cute.”
Somewhat appeased, I spun around to appraise the front of the church. “It looks beautiful.” And it did. I had a good view of the front of the church along with the east side. It had been an overgrown mess, and they’d cleaned out the weeds, trimmed the bushes, and planted the flowers.
“All that’s left is the mulching,” Bruce Wayne said, getting to his feet.
I hadn’t brought it to the job site yet since I hadn’t thought they’d be this far along. “Bruce Wayne, don’t let me disturb you on your break.”
“I’m nearly done.” But the half-eaten sandwich in his hand told me otherwise. Muffy followed him as he walked toward me.
“Are you gonna need help loading the mulch in the truck, Miss Rose?” Bruce Wayne asked.
“Um…” I hadn’t thought that far ahead, distracted by everything else.
“How about I ride back with you to the nursery and help load?”
“What do you have left to do here?” From the looks of things, they were almost done.
“We’ve got a small batch of flowers to plant. David can take care of that while I go with you.”
To my surprise, David agreed. “I can handle it.” Maybe he was worried I’d make him help load the truck. He might have gotten out of the loading, but he was going to get plenty of opportunity to unload. I kept that part to myself.
Bruce Wayne gathered the rest of his lunch and got into the truck with me. Muffy sat between us, studying Bruce Wayne, who was quieter than usual.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He swallowed, glancing at me before looking straight ahead. “Yeah.” He reached for Muffy’s head and began to rub.
“Thanks for all your hard work this week. You’ve really helped me out of a bind.”
“No, thank you. It feels good to be working. I like this job because I can see that I’m doing something that makes a difference. I’m making something better, even if it’s just plants.”
I smiled. “I understand. I started gardening when I was a girl. One of the reasons I loved it was because I could plant something and take care of it and watch it grow. It was magical. It still is.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “I like that too, but I also like how I feel when I’m working.”
“And how’s that?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s hard to explain. I ain’t necessarily good with words.”
“That’s okay, try.”
He twisted his hands in his lap. “It’s like I’m someone else when I’m working with the dirt. I feel like I’m important.” He swallowed again. “Like I’ve found somewhere I belong.”
I’d spent my entire life searching for that feeling. I’d only ever known it with Joe and the nursery. “I get that,” I finally said.