Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1) by Karin Boutall

backpack then hopped up on a stool that was
slightly too tall for him. “I talked to coach. He wants me to
stay on the team, but he says I can do something else besides be his
assistant.”
    “Really
and what is something else?”
    “He
said I could kayak on Sunday with the marine biologists. If I like
that better, I don't have to be assistant anymore.” Zack dumped
his backpack on a stool. “Can we go?”
    Joan
took a silent relief breath. Cal had done his part. “Well, if
you're sure you want to, why not?”
    Zack
smiled. “I really want to Mom. It'll be cool. But I still want
to quit baseball. I hate being an assistant. I get blamed for
everything.”
    “I
know you hate it. And of course you can quit. But how about asking
coach to make Benny his assistant?”
    “Mom!
That’s giving up.”
    “So
is quitting.”
    “Why
give that jerk my spot?”
    “Here's
why. Maybe you're a great player. We certainly know Benny isn't.”
    Zack
rolled his eyes. “He can't even hit the ball.”
    “Do
you think Benny could help coach any better than you?”
    “No
way, he's whiny.”
    “Maybe
he's whiny because he's jealous of you. You're the better player, so
he wants a chance to do something different, like assisting coach.”
    “But
he sucks at helping anybody.”
    “Well,
let's give him the chance to do better and you can concentrate on
batting practice until we find you something else, like marine
biology.”
    Zack
grinned and then chatted on about the marine biologists while she
misted the hanging baskets of flowers. He hoped to see stingrays and
turtles and if he got lucky, maybe he'd spot a dolphin. Of course
with mullets jumping, he'd stay at the back of the group. Just one of
those floppy, slimy fish was enough to flip the kayak. As he talked
about the animals he hoped to see, the color in his cheeks returned
to normal. He continued to prattle until Willie strolled up to his
legs and purred.
    “How
did he get in?” Joan threw a squinted look at Willie. He
ignored her.
    “He
must have accidentally come in when I got home.” Zack too,
ignored her peeved look and said, “it's getting late, I better
feed him.”
    Without
a word, she watched as they headed toward the kitchen. Willie
twitched his tail as if he'd won a battle while Zack cooed and
stroked his back. Willie had become more of a house cat than she
wanted. On the other hand, she hadn't seen a mouse since he moved
indoors which was a major accomplishment for one cat. After they
disappeared into the kitchen, she sighed, turned back to the rows of
flowers, and continued to mist the trays. They needed Willie whether
she liked it or not.
    Later
that evening, Joan rested her feet on white pillows and rubbed them
with almond oil. She remembered her mother telling her, keep your
feet strong, and your garden will grow long . It was a simple
rhyme, silly really, but one she gratefully remembered and used. A
small cut or step on the wrong animal could be disaster for any
gardener. Ever since her mother told her the rhyme, she'd been
careful to wear good shoes and watch her step. The advice had worked
for the last thirty-five years. When she finished, she laid her head
back and fell asleep before the rain began to pour.
    * * *
    In
the morning, Joan arranged the framed pictures of Holden's new entry.
Three square ten-by-tens hung on the wall behind the register so
customers could clearly see her work. It was a subtle, but effective
marketing tool she hoped would encourage new landscape and
maintenance contracts. To view the pictures from a different angle,
she stepped into the foyer. From there, the pictures looked even more
intriguing. The black frames captured the eye and made the pictures
vivid and rich with life.
    She
heard someone clomp up the porch. It was Roz. She opened the door and
held it until Roz swept across the foyer. As hoped, Roz stopped and
gazed at the pictures then whistled. “They're gorgeous. You
must have worked all morning to hang these. They'll