Poisoned Petals

Later in the day she was going to see Rosie again, after so many years apart. Well, at least she hoped she was going to see Rosie. She could only go and find out if it was the right person. She wished she had gone to Asheville years ago to find her friend. It was strange that Darmus’s death might finally bring them back together. Sad, too. She was sure Darmus would have liked the idea that she and Rosie might meet again.

He’d been amazed when he got back from Zimbabwe and found they weren’t friends anymore. Peggy had threatened to strangle him if he even suggested their friendship had ended because of him.

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me,” he’d said one day in Charlotte when he’d come to see her soon after she was married. “I thought you might not like me so much anymore.”

“Because you and Rosie separated? You’re still my friend, Darmus.”

He’d shrugged, his dark eyes distant. “One never knows how a friend will react to another friend’s agony.”

Peggy always wondered what he’d meant by that, but John had come home from work in his dark blue uniform and wanted to talk to Darmus, too. She’d never remembered to ask him about his strange comment.

Selena Rogers, her full-time assistant, came in around ten, just before the lunch crowd. She was a pretty girl. Her shoulder-length blond hair was clipped up on her head, and her slender, dancer’s body was clad in denim shorts and a white T-shirt that barely reached her bellybutton. She stashed her backpack behind the counter and tied on her green Potting Shed apron. “Why are men are so stupid?”

“All men aren’t stupid.” Peggy finished watering the mandevillas and adjusted a hanging pot of shamrocks. “What’s happened this time?”

But instead of pouring her heart out to Peggy like she usually did, Selena stared at her boss. “What’s up with that voice? Is this an older woman thing? Does Steve like it?”

Sam Ollson, Peggy’s landscape manager, arrived pushing a cart of grass seed into the shop from the back storage area. He was a big, muscled man who looked more like a life-guard than a student who wanted to be a surgeon. His blond hair was almost as long as Selena’s, and his smooth, tanned skin was mostly exposed in a green Potting Shed tank top. “If you ever watched anything on TV besides Survivor, or read the newspaper, you’d know Peggy tried to save Darmus Appleby’s life yesterday. He died when his house caught fire. I’m sorry, Peggy. Should you be here?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Thanks.”

“A fire?” Selena’s blue eyes were wide. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. Why don’t you come and sit down in the rocking chair?”

“I’m fine,” Peggy said again, almost wishing Sam hadn’t come in at that moment.

“Wow,” Selena whispered. “I know Dr. Appleby was your friend. I wonder who’ll take care of the Community Garden now.”

“That’s part of Feed America,” Sam answered. “Which if you watched the news or—”

“Shut up!” Selena put her hands on her ears. “Do you see what I mean, Peggy? All men are stupid!”

Steve waved to her through the big front window. It was time to go. And just in time. “I’m going to be gone until this evening.”

“Take your time,” Selena told her. “I’ll handle the shop. And this big dork!”

“Don’t worry,” Sam responded, as he always did, “I’ll handle the shop and this pitiful excuse for an assistant.”

“Pitiful?” Selena rounded on him as Peggy opened the door to leave, calling out that she would see both of them later.

She closed the door firmly behind her and smiled at Steve as the breeze blew through his thick, brown hair. “I’m ready to go.”

“How do you ever get anything done with the two of them fighting all the time?”

“They don’t fight all the time. They really love each other. It’s just kid stuff. They’re like brother and sister.”

“I’m glad they work for you and not me.” He shook his head. “They’d drive me crazy.”

“You may have to hire an assistant, as busy as you’ve been,” Peggy joked. “Selena has a younger sister looking for a summer job.”

“Troublemaker. Are we taking my Vue or your truck?”

PEGGY ALMOST LOST HER NERVE when they finally got to Asheville.

It wasn’t hard to find the reflexology clinic. There were colorful patterns painted everywhere on the building walls. It reminded her of the Volkswagen van Rosie used to drive in college. Then she and Steve followed the signs to the apartment above the clinic, and now Peggy faced the door.

There was a large sign showing the important parts of the foot right next to the green door that led into the apartment. Peggy stared at it like it was fascinating, hoping Steve would think she was too enthralled with it to notice she hadn’t knocked on the door. She continued to look at it while she considered what she would say after almost twenty-five years of neglecting her friend.

Of course, the person behind that door might not be Rosie. Maybe she should have called first. It was a long trip to find a stranger looking back at her.

But she felt sure Rosie would be there. They were so close in college, always finishing each other’s sentences and knowing each other’s thoughts. People joked that they must be psychic. Peggy felt like that now. It was as if she knew Rosie was there from the moment she first saw her name online.

“Cold feet?” Steve guessed accurately from behind her. “No sign can be that fascinating.”