Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [62]
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they go and do something nice.”
For a moment they leaned together, reveling in the moment. Then Lindsay asked, “What are we going to do about the smell?”
Bridget hesitated. “Scented candles?”
Lindsay gave her a dour look.” I don’t think so.”
“Maybe there’s some kind of—I don’t know—odor neutralizer for fertilizer. I’m going to call Farley.”
Lindsay suppressed a groan. “Don’t call Farley. Don’t call anybody. He’ll just try to fix it and make things worse. Noah tried to fix things. Dominic tried to fix things. That’s the trouble with men—they’re always doing something when there’s absolutely nothing to be done.”
“Well, what are we going to do? Even if we serve lunch inside, they’re going to want to tour the gardens, and the wedding planner will have to do measurements and whatnot, and after all this work they’re going to cancel everything because of the fertilizer, I just know it.” There was genuine panic in her eyes as she confessed, “I spent over $250 on the food for the tasting. We can’t lose this job!”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to us,” Lindsay said, barely mustering the energy to get the words out. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve slept?”
“At least as long as it has been since I have. And I have twelve hours to prepare a meal that should take two days to do right.”
They looked at each other for a long, bleak moment. Then Lindsay said, “I guess we’d better get started, then.”
After her shower, Cici decided to close her eyes for just a minute, and when she woke up it was after five. By the time she made it back to the hospital, Lori was finishing her dinner, and she and her father were joking about the quality of the Jell-O while CNN played on the overhead television. Cici came forward and kissed her hair, and Lori said, “You smell good.”
“I also come bearing gifts.” Cici opened the bakery bag she carried and brought out two chocolate cupcakes.
Lori’s eyes lit up. “I love you, Mom.” She began peeling the paper cup off one.
Richard occupied the chair that had been pulled up close to the bed. He took out his phone and dialed in to check his messages. Cici gave him a hard look and after a moment he understood. “Right,” he said. He stood and offered the chair to her.
“So,” Cici said as she took her seat, “what have you been up to all day?”
“Well,” Lori answered, swallowing a bite of cupcake, “first Prince William came to visit, then we took in an opera, and after that ...”
“Very funny.’
“That phone of hers hasn’t stopped ringing all day,” Richard said. Then he spoke into his own phone. “Hi, sweetheart, I thought I told you we’re not taking any meetings with Caplin ... no, let him stew in his own juices for a while ... Yeah, that’s fine, let me know.”
Cici smiled mirthlessly. “What a nice visit the two of you must have had then,” she said. “Of course”—she turned a meaningful look on Richard—“it might have been easier to do it by phone.”
He ignored her and dialed another number.
Lori said, “Kelley came by with my stuff. And look.” She pointed to an array of teddy bears that had joined the dozens of pink roses that were arranged in jars and vases around the room, along with a cluster of balloons. “People have been sending things all afternoon.”
Cici smiled. “Now you’re starting to get the hang of being sick.”
The nurse pushed open the door. “I don’t remember seeing cupcakes on the menu,” she remarked with an admonishing smile as she took Lori’s tray. “You know the rule is that no outside food can be brought in unless you share with the nursing staff.”
“Talk to my mom,” Lori said. “I have half a cupcake left,” she added generously, holding it up.
The nurse laughed. “Thanks, but you look like you need it more than I do. You have some friends waiting outside,” she added, “but we only allow three visitors at a time. Shall I send in one?”
“Oh,