DROVE up to her house an hour later, a battered old blue Ford pickup was parked at the curb and a red wheelbarrow was positioned beside Charlie Fredricks, who was already digging, turning over clods of earth and putting them into the barrow.
“Hey,” he called cheerfully. He’d stripped off his green shirt and put on a ratty old, long-sleeved tee. His pants were different, too—jeans still, but old and holey in the knees. He’d changed into brown, well-worn work boots.
“What are you doing?” She eyed the growing pile of clods.
“Making a berm, first one over there and then we’ll see.” His voice was excited, eager. “You have to imagine a garden as a series of rooms. I thought we’d make this the entrance hall, raised beds of flowers, trees along here to shelter the sidewalk…Which is going to be shaped irregularly, winding slowly to the front door. It makes it interesting for guests. And it’s good feng shui.”
Entrance hall? Feng shui? She glanced at him, thinking he must be joking, but he looked as serious as he ever did—which wasn’t very. His face was so good-humored that he always seemed on the verge of a smile. Bella told herself she found that irritating. Nobody could be in a good mood all the time.
“Your youngsters are in the house. I suggested they might want to help, but they weren’t too enthusiastic.”
No kidding. Getting them to do anything remotely productive these days was almost more effort than it was worth.
“I’ll see if I can change their minds about that.” Bella decided she’d rout them out and do some digging herself before dinner. It would be good to do something out of doors, together. The day was typically overcast, but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining, both of which were bonuses.
Inside the front door, she tripped over Kelsey’s book bag and then kicked aside Josh’s trainers. A trail of cookie crumbs and tortilla chips led from the kitchen to the den. Bella followed.
Josh was sprawled on the sofa, television turned up to an earsplitting level as a NASCAR race unfolded. Two empty soda cans, a flattened milk carton and discarded cookie package lay on the carpet, along with more crumbs.
Bella picked up the remote and turned off the TV.
“Hey.” Josh sat up. “Chill, Mom. I was watching that.”
“You can watch television later. Right now I’d like you to pick up this mess, put on some old clothes and come outside. We’re all going to work in the garden.”
“Says who?” His tone was verging on insolent. “The dude out there with the old truck?”
“Says me.” Determined not to lose her patience, Bella tried reason. “I have to sell this house, and in order to do that and make some money so we can move and keep on buying groceries, it has to be landscaped. I don’t know how to do anything with a garden, but Mr. Fredricks has offered to help. C’mon, it could even be fun.”
“I’ve got homework.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly working on it. You can do your homework after dinner.”
Muttering under his breath, Josh headed for the stairs. Bella looked at the mess he was leaving behind and decided one battle at a time was just about enough.
Upstairs, Kelsey’s door was closed. When there was no answer in response to her knock, Bella opened it. Piles of clothing covered the floor. Kelsey reclined against her pillows on the unmade bed, grubby shoes resting on the sheets. She was eating chocolate ice cream and was listening to her iPod. Until Bella was standing over her, she didn’t even notice her mother was there.
Kelsey slowly removed the ear buds.
“Yes, Mother?” She took another spoonful of ice cream and raised one eyebrow.
A scant year ago, when she was twelve, Kelsey had still hugged Bella at bedtime and even kissed her goodbye before leaving for school. At thirteen, she’d become something of a changeling, who made no secret of the fact that she had no desire to be in the same room with her mother. The best Bella could expect these days was strained politeness.
“This room is a pigsty.” She hadn’t intended to say that, but the handmade, black velvet quilt Kelsey had begged for last Christmas was tossed into a corner, and the closet door was open, revealing a nest of tumbled clothing, shoes and damp bath towels. And was that Bella’s pink cashmere sweater rolled in a ball on the dresser? She walked over to reclaim it, and saw it had a huge stain across the front, something that looked like ink.
“This is my best sweater. What did you do to this, Kelsey, use it as a blotter?”
Her daughter shrugged. “So, did you come in here just to rail at me?”
“No, I did not.” Bella tried for a calming breath. “Get up and put some old clothes on. We’re going to dig up the front yard and plant a garden.”
“Garden? No, thanks.” Kelsey screwed her face into an expression of disgust. “Besides, nobody does their own gardening, Mother.”
“You’re wrong there. Lots of our neighbors on Maple Street used to grow gardens.” Bella felt homesick for their old neighborhood. She felt homesick for their old life. “I’ll bet lots of people here do, too. You just can’t see them behind those huge hedges. Prince Charles is a gardener, for heaven’s sake.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll bet Prince William doesn’t have a thing for shovels and stuff.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, you’re not Prince William. So put that ice cream carton in the garbage before it does any more damage, and from now on, do not lie on that bed with your shoes on. I’ll expect you outside in ten minutes.”
Bella got out before she lost it. Barely.
But her own bedroom wasn’t that much of an improvement over Kelsey’s, she noted. Empty coffee cups littered the floor beside the bed and a bottle of melatonin lay on its side on the bedside table.
She took off her work clothes—cords and a sweater—and put on older cords and a tee, topping it off with the purple, long-sleeved sweatshirt Niki had complained about last Sunday. It had paint splotches, but what the heck? It was fine for digging dirt.
Kelsey and Josh were waiting in the front hall. They might have looked slightly more cheerful if they were going to prison. Bella felt sorry for them. Their lives had changed almost as much as hers had. But they were all just going to have to get used to it.
She led the way out the door and down the steps. Charlie was still effortlessly moving piles of dirt from one area to another. He waved cheerfully, and Bella introduced her kids.
“Josh, Kelsey, this is Mr. Fredricks.”
“Call me Charlie. Pleased to meet you,” he said.
Josh and Kelsey didn’t reply.
Bella was about to call them on their lack of manners when Charlie said, “There’s shovels in the truck. You can start digging out the base for the sidewalk, marked out with that yellow cord. It needs to be six inches deep and relatively even. When we get it dug, I’ll put in forms for the concrete.”
Sure enough, two parallel yellow cords stretched in a gently curving line from the edge of the property to the front door.
Josh muttered, “A sidewalk? Is this guy nuts?”
Kelsey huffed, “Daddy would never make me do this.”
Too true. Daddy never did anything himself.
Bella led the way to the truck and lifted three long-handled spades from the bed. She distributed them and tried to inject enthusiasm into her tone. “Come on, let’s get started. How hard can it be?”
Within minutes, she found out. Charlie came over and showed them how to sink the spade into the ground by holding the handle tight and jumping on the blade. He made it look simple.
“Make your cuts on a slight angle, and try to make