Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

“I guess they were surprised then.” Peggy patted an errant strand of hair that was beginning to annoy her. Sometimes she thought it might be better to shave the whole mass off but never really went beyond annoyance to action. She wore her hair the way she’d worn it for twenty years. Mostly she was too busy to pay it much attention. “My father raised tobacco every summer while I was growing up. It was a stable cash crop. He even let us smoke some after it was cured. Vile stuff, but important to the farmers in South Carolina. I wouldn’t mind if research developed something to save all those tobacco farms from extinction. I love the smell of it growing after a rain as you go down the road in the summer.”

They sat through a few more speakers before the conference was over. While the others were leaving, Peggy walked with Debby to the developmental area of Longwood Gardens. She loved to see what they were working on and borrow some ideas for her own basement greenhouse.

“I’m glad Antares did so well for you,” Debby said, speaking of the huge, night-blooming water lily she’d sent her. “Your night-blooming rose was impressive. Thanks for bringing us one. We’ve been working on a variety of night- and twilight-flowering plants. Besides the water lily and the rose, we also have a dahlia and a hibiscus that are under development. I suppose you’ll be turning your eye on the magnolia now. That would be impressive at night.”

“Actually I’ve been working with a local farmer on more pest-resistant strawberries. They’ve made them big now, but they’re having problems with bugs they never had before.”

“I guess the bugs didn’t notice strawberries as much when they were the size of peas,” Debby quipped, “but now they’re the size of apples, it’s a different story.”

“That’s always the way it is.” Peggy admired a deep purple rose. “When you change one thing, you change ten more things with it. I love playing with flowers, but when I can help in a more practical sense, that’s when I really get involved. I’m also working with Darmus Appleby to help establish a community vegetable garden in Charlotte for next summer.”

Debby smiled and adjusted a water sprinkler. “When do you have time for that new beau of yours? With everything you take on, it can’t be easy to find time to hold hands while you watch a Sunday matinee.”

“It’s difficult.” Peggy’s eyes flashed as the image of two old people barely able to move filled her mind. “But don’t make it sound like I’m over a hundred and met the man in the wheelchair next to mine. I’m still capable of having a meaningful relationship. Having Steve in my life has been strange and stressful sometimes. I never expected to share my life with another man.”

Debby laughed as she held out her hands to protect herself. “I didn’t mean anything by it! Relax! You don’t have to convince me. You’ve never seemed older than thirty.”

“Oh hush!” Peggy smiled at her. “I’m a little sensitive about the whole age thing right now. I told you Steve is younger than me. I never thought about my age until I met him. Now sometimes I feel ancient. Like people look at us strangely when we’re together. I’m waiting for the first person to come up and ask if I’m his mother.”

“He’s not that much younger than you,” Debby, who’d met Steve at Christmas, reminded her. “As for anyone else, ignore them. You deserve to be happy. Steve is lucky to have you.”

“I try not to notice, but you’re talking to a woman born and raised in Charleston. When a thing wasn’t proper, you didn’t do it. I still haven’t told my parents about Steve. I know my mother will be shocked and horrified. She thinks the proper mourning time for a wife is still five years.”

Debby looked amazed. “You can’t still feel like that, can you? I thought when I got older I wouldn’t care what my parents think. You mean there’s no relief? You’ve taken all the fun out of getting old for me.”

“I suppose it might be different with different parents. Or if they die. That’s the only way it can get better for me. Not that I’d wish them harm in a million years. They might be proper and fussy, but they’re still my parents.” Peggy glanced at her watch. “I’ve loved being with you this weekend. You’ll have to come down and see us again. You can help out with the community garden. With your expertise, we could grow vegetables the size of footballs.”

“Maybe after the summer,” Debby said. “You know what my life around here is like once the weather gets warm. I never go outside the garden. I think by September I’m starting to feel a little green.”

They looked at the huge, sleeping garden outside the greenhouse. The lush green and vibrant colors of summer were months away. But the brown, drab landscape was full of promise in both their eyes. Gardeners’ eyes see more than what exists at that moment. They always see the possibilities of what could be.

The first snowflake broke Peggy’s dreamy-eyed gaze. She shivered, looking at the gray sky. Thousands of small, white flakes followed the first flake, tumbling into the garden. She wasn’t a big fan of cold weather, especially snow and ice. The idea of driving back to her hotel in Philadelphia made her cut her good-byes to Debby short. She wanted to be inside before the snow started accumulating on the street.

“Be careful!” Debby waved as Peggy backed her rental car out of the deserted parking lot. “Call me when you get to your hotel. I want to be sure you make it safely back.”

“I will. Thanks for a wonderful time! Come and see me when you have a chance.”

Despite Peggy’s dread of frozen roads, one she had in common with most Southern-born women, the drive back wasn’t as bad as she feared. The snow melted as it hit the ground, creating a slushy mix on the pavement. But the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation was out with trucks and plows. The slush never had a chance to freeze on the road. She wasn’t sure what it would be like later that night. But by then, she’d be home.

February in the Carolinas might have some frost, but snow was unlikely. And if it did snow, she wouldn’t have to drive in it. That was one good thing about living in an area that didn’t have much frozen precipitation. The city was never prepared for it. She could only hope they never would be. Let the people who moved there from other states complain that they couldn’t get out in bad weather. Sensible people didn’t want to try.

Her thoughts of home were banished by some kind of commotion at the front of the Four Seasons Hotel where she was staying. The entire street and sidewalk were blocked with people. She thought at first there was an accident, but there was no sign of an ambulance or mangled cars.

She maneuvered her car close to the hotel entrance, wondering what was going on. It looked like a rally of some kind. Her cell phone rang as she noticed the signs and banners. “Clean up your act! Give life a chance!” Some of the people were made up to look like corpses with white faces and blackened eyes. They chanted slogans about saving the planet that she hadn’t heard since she was in college.

“Hey, Peggy! How’s the conference? Did little Nick wow them?” Her assistant, Sam Ollson, asked her across the miles between Pennsylvania and North Carolina.

“They loved him,” she told him. “I thought I’d never get through the applause.”

“Really?” Surprise made his youthful voice squeak. He was in his second year of college, hoping to go to med school and have a career as a surgeon. He’d worked for her at her garden shop, the Potting Shed, since it opened two years ago.

“No. Not really. But I think I made my point. Now little Nick and I are looking forward to coming home. There’s something going on here, Sam,” she said as the hotel concierge approached her car. “I have to go.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “It’s some kind of demonstration or something. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sorry for the delay, ma’am,” the concierge said as she put away her cell phone. “We’ve called the police. This should be cleared up shortly.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at the angry people as they swarmed around the hotel. A dark limousine pulled up at the hotel, positioning itself directly in front of the entrance. She could hear the police sirens coming closer.

“Protesters. They’re holding meetings here at the hotel about drilling for oil and gas in some popular wilderness area. People are pretty worked up about it. But we didn’t expect anything like this. If you want, you can leave the car here. I’ll have it taken care of once this is cleared up.”

“Thanks.” She handed him the keys, scooped her possessions out, and headed around the limousine toward the door. As she walked past, the driver opened one of the limousine doors, and her friend, Park Lamonte, stepped out of the car. “Hey there! I didn’t know you were staying here, too.”

Mindful of the protesters who started pushing and shouting when they saw him, Park took her arm and walked quickly with her into the hotel. “It’s nice to see a friendly face, Peggy, but you picked a bad time to visit.