Poisoned Petals

“Did Darmus know?”

“She said he didn’t. I don’t know. I guess we never will.”

Sam closed the tailgate. “My family doesn’t know I’m gay. My dad would flip out if he knew. You know that. Sometimes, you can’t share some parts of your lives with people you love.”

“Don’t they ask you questions about girlfriends and getting married?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes my mom asks me about those things. But mostly, they’re both hoping I won’t think too much about girls or getting married until I finish school. That’s a big deal with them. Once I’m a doctor, it might be another story. I don’t know.”

She touched his arm. “They love you, Sam. They won’t care when they know the truth.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know how they’d take it.”

“You’ll see. Sometimes a parent might not like what their son or daughter does, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love them anyway and accept it.”

“Like you and Paul with him being a cop? I agree. But you’re a different person. Anyway, I don’t plan on ever telling my parents. They might figure it out someday, but they won’t ask. It will be a stalemate.”

As she watched him drive away to the next job, Peggy felt bad about Sam not being able to talk to his parents. Anthony waved from his Caribbean cafe next door, wondering when she was coming by again for lunch. Cars moved sluggishly up College Street as the afternoon waned.

Peggy went to talk to a customer who was looking for some old-fashioned perfume roses for her garden.

“The kind my grandmother used to plant,” the diminutive woman explained.

“I have a few left, but I could order more.” Peggy showed her the three red roses she had. “How many are you looking for?”

“I’d really like white.” The woman perused the roses. “I’m doing an all-white garden on the left side of my house. My mother died last year, bless her soul, and I’d like to make a small plaque and a white garden. Mother said you always wear white roses after your mother is dead.”

“She was right.” Peggy smiled at her. “I can have some white roses in a few days. This new kind is very sweet, very strong, and the blooms are beautiful, as you can see from the red.”

“All right. I’ll take two dozen. Could I get those planted, too? I was thinking about buying a few other white flowers to go with them. Maybe some gardenias and a few white peonies. Maybe a small magnolia, too. Mother loved magnolias.”

As Peggy took the order she decided it would be a good place to start her part of the landscaping business. Sam was right. He and Keeley Prinz, her other landscape assistant, were way too busy to take on anything else. She might not be able to hire anyone in time to work on Mrs. Turnbrell’s white garden, but she could handle it alone. “I’m sure your mother will love it.”

“Thank you. I love your shop, Peggy. You always know what I need.”

4

Borage

Botanical: Borago officinalis

Family: N.O. Boraginaceae

Good in salads, this herb has a cucumber like smell and taste that is cool and refreshing. Pliny called it Euphrosinum, saying it made a man merry and joyful. Many generations have brewed the tea to bring back good humor and happiness. It was also said to bring bravery. People still preserve the pretty blue flowers and candy them for cakes.

“THEY’LL LOVE YOU,” Peggy reassured Steve as they made lunch for her parents the next day. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

Steve smiled. His question was about the soup he was stirring. And she’d already reassured him six times since he got there. “Nervous?”

“About my parents coming for two weeks? No! Don’t be ridiculous. They’re my parents. Why would I be nervous? I’m too old to get flustered over a visit from my parents.”

“Sure you are.”

She sighed as she tried to fold a red linen napkin into a rose shape and it ended up as a ball in her hand. “Yes. I’m a wreck. I can’t eat or sleep. Shakespeare keeps staring at me. I think I’m making him crazy, too.” She smoothed the Great Dane’s head that rested on her feet.

“We can take it,” Steve told her. “We’re big tough guys, right, Shakespeare?”

The dog looked up and wagged his tail, but when he didn’t see any sign of a human moving toward the door to take him outside, he put his head back down and closed his eyes.

The warm but not yet humid air called to the dog and his mistress. Peggy wished she was spending her time outside working in her garden or moving sunflowers. Instead, she was in the house, cleaning and polishing.

Not that her house didn’t need a good clean. She was appalled by the number and size of dust bunnies and cobwebs she had found. They could’ve overpowered her and taken over the place. It was good she had been forced