Love Letters from Ladybug Farm (37 page)

“Well, I mean, except for the storm.”

“Tornado,” corrected Lindsay.

“That hasn’t been confirmed yet,” Bridget objected.

“And the dog,” Cici said without opening her eyes.

“And the groom’s mother.”

“And the groom.”

“And the explosion.”

“And the goat.”

“Like I said,” Bridget said uncomfortably. “All things considered.”

No one spoke for a measure of time. No one had the energy.

“You know what the problem was, don’t you?” Bridget said after a moment.

“Personally,” replied Lindsay, a rather tired smile twitching at her lips, “I blame Michelle Obama.”

Bridget smothered a giggle, and even Cici, without opening her eyes, managed a lopsided smile.

“Okay,” Cici said. “Tell me what the problem was.”

“Sex.”

Cici opened her eyes, and lifted her head to look at her two best friends. The three women thought about that for a while. Then Cici gave a slow, reflective nod of her head. “Do you know, Bridget,” she said, “this time I think you’ve got it exactly right.”

Lindsay agreed regretfully, “Sad but true.”

“But it was a beautiful ceremony,” Bridget said.

Cici glanced at one of the half-empty champagne glasses on the small table beside her chair. She had no idea to whom it belonged. She picked it up dubiously, sniffed the contents, gave the rim a cursory examination for lip marks, and drank it down.

“Yeah,” she said, and smiled just a little. “It was.”

Bridget sighed. “I’d like to think that, after all this effort, those kids will have a good marriage. But I don’t know.”

“Well,” Lindsay said, “the groom did agree not to spend his wedding night at a baseball game with his brother. That’s a step in the right direction.” The screen door squeaked open, held by Mark, and Lori clumped out on her crutches, accompanied by Noah. She had changed from her formal wedding clothes to a floral cotton skirt and T-shirt, although she was still beautifully made up, her hair cascading from a clip in curls around her shoulders. Mark had removed his tie and jacket, and Noah, in apparent solidarity, still wore his suit pants and dress shirt—although he had changed into running shoes.

“Hey, Mom,” Lori announced. “Noah’s taking us out for pizza. Do you want us to bring you some?”

Noah shrugged at the questioning look from the older women. “I lost a bet,” he admitted, deadpan. “I said you couldn’t catch that goat.”

“Very funny.” Cici deliberately removed the frozen peas to show offher black eye, and Lori winced.

“Been there, done that, Mom,” she said sympathetically. “Two words: pancake makeup.”

Mark said, “It was a great party, Ms. Burke. I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you, Mark,” Cici replied. “Please drive carefully.”

“Don’t worry.” He grinned. “I’m
much
better behind the wheel of a car.”

She couldn’t help smiling a little as she watched the attentiveness with which he helped Lori negotiate the steps. When they reached the car Lindsay commented, “Now that’s a nice young man, to take Noah along on their first date.”

“I like him,” Bridget agreed.

“Me, too,” Cici said. “Although...” Her tone grew speculative. “Sergio has a lot going for him, too.”

Lindsay slanted a grin at Bridget. “Say Bridget, Farley can really dance, can’t he? If we hadn’t invited him, I don’t think the groom’s mother would have had any fun at all.”

“You know something?” Bridget said, sounding only a little surprised. “I had a really good time. I’d forgotten how much I missed being treated like a lady—having someone hold my chair and bring me drinks and ask me to dance. And even keeping that horrid woman occupied—it all made me feel important. Taken care of.”

“Yeah,” agreed Lindsay and Cici simultaneously. Their voices were wistful.

And when the other two women looked at her questioningly, Cici shrugged. “The one thing Richard knows is how to treat a lady. And it was nice, having a date at a party.”

Lindsay nodded. “I think that’s one of the things we forgot when we were trying to list what men are good for. There’s really nothing like them when it comes to dancing at a wedding.”

Cici and Bridget laughed tiredly.

Then Lindsay added thoughtfully, “But you know, as much as I do like Dominic, at this age dating takes on a whole new meaning, doesn’t it? You’re past the looking-around stage, and you have to ask yourself really quickly where the relationship is going.”

“And?” Cici prompted.

Lindsay shrugged. “Easy decision. I like my life, and I like myself in it. I’ve worked too hard to get to who and where I am now to want to change anything. It’s like Lori said—romantic fantasy has a hard time competing with my real life.”

Bridget nodded. “Relationships are really all about meeting each other’s needs, and when you don’t need anything...” She let the sentence complete itself.

Cici nodded reflectively. “So true. But it’s kind of sad for the guys we leave behind, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Lindsay grinned. “That doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun.”

Cici chuckled, even though it made her face hurt, and so did Bridget.

“Speaking of which,” Bridget said, “is that Dominic walking back from the orchard?”

“You know him.” There was a pleasantly affectionate tone to Lindsay’s voice. “He can’t stay away from the vines.”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Cici said. “Make sure he has lots of fun. I don’t know what we would have done with the vineyard if it hadn’t been for him, and we’ve still got a long way to go.”

Lindsay threw a paper napkin at her. “Very funny.”

“All right, ladies.” Paul and Derrick came through the door, loaded down with Paul’s luggage. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and help with the cleanup tomorrow? Because we don’t mind.”

Lindsay and Bridget leapt to their feet, dispensing hugs. “Are you kidding? Like you haven’t done enough!”

“You saved our lives,” Cici told Paul. She was last in line for kisses, which were delivered cautiously, mindful of her bruises. “You know you deserve the money so much more than we do.”

“But you need it more than I do,” Paul assured them. “It was a labor of love.”

“Although,” Derrick reminded him, “now that we’re about to be property owners, you might want to think about being a bit less generous.”

Paul grinned at him.

“We love you guys,” Lindsay said.

Derrick touched his fingers to his lips, and then to each of their foreheads. “My heart,” he said.

Bridget said, “And thanks, by the way, for being my secret admirer.”

Lindsay, Cici, and Paul looked surprised, and Derrick lifted an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

“Oh, please.” Bridget gave a dismissing wave of her hand. “You didn’t fool me for a minute.”

Their eyes locked in a smile for a moment, and then there was a repeated flurry of good-byes and well-wishes and promises to e-mail as soon as they got home.

Last to leave was Richard. With his leather travel bag slung over his shoulder, he stopped on the porch to address Lindsay and Bridget gravely. “Ladies,” he said, “you are ... indescribable.”

As one, they returned broad grins. “Aren’t we, though?” said Lindsay.

Richard bent to kiss Cici’s unbruised cheek. “Sweetheart, it’s been real.”

She smiled at him. “I think I’m going to miss fighting with you.”

He winked at her. “What do you want to bet I can do something to tick you off before I get to the airport?”

They stood on the porch and waved as he got into his rental car and drove off. And then they were alone.

Rebel finally freed himself of the remnants of the veil and trotted off. A breeze caught the loose end of one of the pillar ribbons and flapped it forlornly. The silence echoed.

Bridget looked around at the tattered remnants of gaiety—the spilled drinks, crumpled napkins, wilting flowers. She said, “You know that empty feeling you get after everyone goes home and you’re all alone?”

The other two nodded somberly. “The letdown,” Lindsay said.

“The adrenaline crash,” added Cici.

Bridget smiled. “I don’t feel that.”

Lindsay stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes, looking content. “That’s because we’re not alone.”

“And we don’t need a single thing,” Bridget said.

“Well, a nap would be nice.”

Cici picked up the frozen peas and plastered them to her eye again. “You know, it really wasn’t such a disaster, when you think about it. For our first attempt.”

Bridget nodded her satisfaction. “We’ll get better, with practice.”

“And I was thinking,” Cici mused, “after all that work building the dance floor, it would be a shame to tear it all up after one use. If I put a roof over it, and maybe enclosed it with lattice, we’d virtually have an outdoor party room. And it would really set off the garden.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” said Bridget.

“And a lot of money,” added Lindsay.

“Not so much. Noah can help. And Farley.”

“Dominic,” said Lindsay warmly, standing. Cici opened her good eye to see him coming up the steps, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his eyes squinted against the low rays of the sun. “How did everything look?”

“Can we get you a cup of coffee?” offered Bridget. “Or a glass of wine?”

“No thanks,” said Dominic. “I‛ve got animals of my own to feed, and I need to get back home.”

As he reached them they could see that his expression, and his demeanor, were somber. Cici removed the pack of peas from her eye and sat up straighter. Bridget stopped rocking, and Lindsay looked at him curiously.

“I wanted to thank you for asking me to the wedding,” he said. “You ladies throw a heck of a party, and I really enjoyed myself. I can’t tell you how much I hate for it to end like this, or that I’m the one who has to tell you.”

Now alarm began to creep into each of their faces. “Tell us what?” Cici demanded, and Lindsay echoed, “What’s wrong?”

“Hail,” he said, simply. His voice was heavy. “It’s not good for any crop, but grapes, this time of year...” He shook his head slowly. “The older vines have been stripped bare, and the new ones ... well, there’s not much we can do but pull them up and start over.”

Both Bridget and Cici stood then, staring at him in disbelief. Bridget’s hand went to her heart. Cici asked, “Not all of them? Surely we didn’t lose everything!”

He said gravely, “I‛m sorry. We can protect against an early frost or a late freeze, and we can treat most diseases and pests, but a hailstorm can wipe out a farmer faster than just about anything else. I wish there was something I could do.”

Lindsay forced a weak smile. “We know you do, Dominic.”

And Bridget added, “You worked harder on the vineyard than any of us.”

Cici gazed in the direction of the vineyard with a bleak, stunned expression on her face. “Unbelievable.”

Dominic dropped his hand lightly onto Lindsay’s arm. “I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? We’ll figure something out.”

Lindsay pushed back her shoulders, forced another smile, and squeezed his fingers. “Thanks, Dominic,” she said. “Really.”

No one spoke for a long time after they watched him drive away. Then Bridget said uneasily, “We should probably check the vegetable garden, and the berry bushes. And the fruit trees, to see if there’s anything left. We were so desperate to get the wedding back on track we didn’t even think about our crops.”

Cici said, “It’s too late to save anything. And I can wait until tomorrow to see the damage.”

“What are we going to do?” Bridget asked.

Cici just shook her head.

And suddenly Lindsay grinned. “Did you hear what he called us?”

Both of them looked at her as though she had lost her mind.

“Farmers!” She answered her own question proudly. “He called us farmers.”

“That’s right,” Bridget said, looking impressed. “He did.”

“And this from a man who knows a thing or two about farmers,” Cici had to admit, and even her own shoulders straightened a little as she said it.

“And I guess we know what farmers do when they hit a setback,” Lindsay said. “They start over.”

Bridget grinned. “Which is a subject we know a thing or two about.”

Cici reached into the pocket of her pantsuit, unfolded the check, and regarded it longingly for a moment. Then she smiled. “Easy come, easy go.”

Lindsay found half a bottle of wine, and three almost-clean glasses, and poured.

“To Ladybug Farm,” she proclaimed, lifting her glass.

“To starting over,” said Bridget.

“To us,” said Cici. They touched their glasses, drank, and returned to their rocking chairs, content for the moment to simply watch the sun set.