“Maybe we will.” A bit of kale seemed to stick in Bonnie’s throat. She took several swallows of her tea, then stood. “I really have to get back to the inn now. I can’t count on the bride to serve sandwiches for me.”
“I have to run too, to make a phone call,” Cassie said. “Bye, Bonnie. I’ll call later to set up a time to deliver your dress and take your picture in it, okay?”
“Yes, I’ll look forward to it. And if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you next Sunday at your shower.”
“I can’t wait.” With a final quick wave, Cassie dashed out of the room.
Paul’s gaze met Bonnie’s, and his expression turned suddenly wry. “I think that was her oh-so-subtle way of giving me a chance to kiss you good-night.”
“I had the same suspicion,” she agreed with a laugh. “And since she went to so much trouble…”
She stepped closer to him and lifted her face. He did not hesitate to take her up on the silent invitation.
Eventually the kiss had to end, of course. “We’re still on for tomorrow night?” he asked as they reluctantly separated.
“Yes. Is seven-thirty okay? That will give me time to finish all my chores and get ready.”
“Seven-thirty is good for me.”
“Fine. I’ll cook. You bring wine.”
“Red or white?”
“Surprise me.”
“I’ll certainly try,” he murmured, and kissed her again before she made herself walk away.
They had lingered so long over the excellent dinner Bonnie prepared the next evening that it was almost dark by the time they decided to take a walk in the garden afterward. Bonnie ducked into the inn first to make sure everything was going well inside, but she felt no need to entertain the guests making use of the public parlor. A few guests were outside enjoying the pleasant weather, but other than a greeting and a friendly nod, they didn’t try to converse with Bonnie and Paul.
Though the first of August was still three days away, Paul could tell that the days were beginning to shorten just a bit, the shadows slanting longer, earlier. Summer was winding down. Within a few weeks, his daughter would be married, her other family resettled in Texas, and he would be back in front of his classes, teaching polynomials and differential equations.
Yet he’d be free to do anything he wanted when he wasn’t working, he reminded himself quickly. Hang out with the guys, do a little hiking and fishing, kayaking and mountain biking until the season changed, skiing and snowboarding afterward. With the exception of his work obligations, he wouldn’t have to check with anyone before making plans, or be back at any certain time. Wouldn’t be expected to drop everything if someone needed a ride or a sports coach. He’d experience the carefree bachelor’s life he’d never had a chance to live in his youth. It would be fun. Really. Just great.
“Is this the infamous rosebush that attacked your brother?” he asked, nodding toward the unusually variegated blooms that deepened from light pink to deep salmon. This bush sat a little apart from the rest of the garden, in a roomy, cleared niche shaded by a couple of nice trees but otherwise unlandscaped. On the far side of the clearing, a dense stand of woods marked the border of the inn’s grounds. A sign sat at the opening of
a trail that disappeared into the woods, marking the beginning of the hiking trail that had been pointed out to him on an earlier tour. He had yet to explore it, but he thought he might sometime before the wedding.
Bonnie smiled. “No, that was the big one at the other end of the garden. Kinley, Logan and I planted this one a couple of months ago, on what would have been our mother’s birthday. This was her favorite rose, but it’s somewhat difficult to track down. We finally found one, and we’ve all been babying it ever since to keep it alive.”
“That’s a nice gesture. Keeping her memory with you here in the gardens.”
She nodded. “We want to dedicate the meditation garden we plan to install here eventually to the memory of the family members who made this dream possible. Our great-grandparents, who built the place, our mom, who taught us to love it, Aunt Helen and Uncle Leo, who left it for us. We’re going to put in a nice koi pond with a little bridge over it leading to the trailhead, a few pieces of nice outdoor sculpture, more flowers and maybe some of those little LED lights that slowly change colors, though Logan’s not so sure about that. We’ve already bought a couple of nice teak benches we found on sale and that we have in storage until we decide exactly where to place them. I had the idea recently to call it Finley’s Nook—Finley was my mother’s family name.”
“That sounds real nice.”
She nodded. “Turns out koi ponds are rather expensive if you do them right. It will be a while before we get to that project because we’re putting in some new outside-access restrooms this winter, under the back deck. But we’ll get it done eventually.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“My mother loved koi ponds. When we were growing up in Knoxville, she used to take us to the University of Tennessee to see the water gardens. They were so pretty.”
She looked down at the shriveled rose in her hand. Paul laid his hand on her shoulder, thinking of his own tired, sweet mother. “I miss mine, too.”
Shaking off her momentary wistfulness, Bonnie met his eyes again. “You said your mother had a chance to see Cassie before she passed away?”
“Yes, she died when Cassie was almost two. Needless to say, my mom adored her grandbaby and spent as much time with her as she could.”
Tilting her head, Bonnie searched his face, looking interested in the turn their conversation had taken. “How did she react when you told her?”