The Garden of Small Beginnings, page 10
“How romantic.” Rachel sighed.
He smiled at her. “The Native Americans were experienced and efficient horticulturalists, rather than romantics, although it’s possible to be both. The cornstalks act as supports for the climbing beans, the beans fix nitrogen in the soil for the corn and squash, and the squash provides mulch and root protection for the corn and beans. And then, just to make it all perfect, when you eat the corn and beans together, they form a complete protein.” He grinned, “Thrilling, no?”
We all looked at him. I wasn’t sure if thrilling was the word I would have used, but it was nice. He crouched down close to me and started making a mound of earth.
“Come, ladies, join me. We need to make two or three mounds about a foot tall and two or so feet across. Then we’ll plant some corn seeds in a circle, and then you’re done for now. We add the beans later, and the squash after that. While we’re waiting for the corn to start, we’ll be working on the other beds, which will hold plants that grow more quickly.” He pointed. I could see muscles working under his T-shirt and suddenly realized I found him attractive. Clearly the sun was getting to me.
Rachel looked at her nicely manicured nails. “Didn’t humankind invent a whole set of small hand tools for this kind of work?” I realized both the other women were just standing there, watching us. To be fair, I had already been sitting on the ground when he arrived, but still.
Edward shrugged. “Of course, but for what we’re doing, the human hand really is the best tool, and it’s nice to get a sense of the consistency of the earth. Trust me, it’s just mud. It washes off.”
Angie spoke up. “He’s laughing at us.”
Edward just smiled. “Humans have been growing food for themselves since the dawn of time. Indeed, many plants have developed a dependence on us, just as some plants require digestion by birds to activate their seeds. We do our part by planting seeds in healthy soil, watering them, weeding them, and leaving them in peace. They return the favor by growing fruits and seeds and flowers that we like to eat.”
Then he picked up some of the bamboo poles and turned to me.
“Would you like to help me build supports for the tomatoes?”
“Sure.” I brushed some of the dirt off my hands, and took several of the bamboo poles. He had five or six in his hand and stuck them in the ground in a loose circle. I followed his lead.
“We’re basically making a tent shape, a cone, if you know what I mean. Lean the poles together and use the twine to tie the tops together. Weave it in and around to keep all the poles balanced and supported.” He was doing it, and his hands moved quickly. Suddenly he took my hands and moved them to the poles, handing me the twine. “I’ll hold the bamboo, you wind the twine around. That work?” I looked up at him, and his eyes were warm and friendly. “You can’t really make a mistake. Just do what feels right to keep the little teepee together.”
I took the ball of green twine and tried to mimic his actions. I wound the twine around each pole and then onto the next. He was right. It just seemed natural. Pretty soon, my little cone of sticks was standing firm.
“How do we get the tomatoes to climb up it?” I frowned. “Do they even climb? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tomato plant.”
He said, “Don’t look now, but they’re right behind you.”
I turned slowly, to see a tray of spiky green plants. “They look pretty harmless.”
He nodded. “They are. Tomatoes are one of my favorite things to grow. They’re easy, they almost always set a lot of fruit, and as long as you keep the caterpillars off them, you can just stand there in the sun and eat your fill.” He licked his lips, like a little kid. “Delicious.”
“What’s delicious?” I turned, startled. Annabel had materialized right next to me, having apparently acquired the power of teleportation.
“Tomatoes,” answered Edward. “Do you want to help your mom plant some?”
“Sure. I finished my flowers.”
He smiled at her. “Can I see?” She nodded and led him away. He turned to look at me as he went. “We’re going to set up the irrigation first, so go grab some black pipe. I’ll be right back.”
I just stood there and watched them walk away, her little figure tiny next to him. Shaking myself, I turned to get the pipe.
• • •
It turns out setting up a drip irrigation system, which sounds all impressive and farmer-ish, actually involves digging troughs in rows along where you’re going to plant your seeds and then burying pipe in them. We left pipe sticking out at the ends, for someone cleverer than me to hook up to actual water, and that was it. Then Edward looked at his watch and pulled a tray of tomato plants over.
“We have time to put these in the ground. Let’s do it.”
I let Annabel show me how to do it, and together we planted the tomatoes. Once I’d done one or two, I discovered that I liked it, and that furthermore tomato plants smelled good. Not a pretty smell, but an interesting one, peppery and green. I could smell it on my hands, and in the sunny air. I suddenly realized that all my senses were getting more of a workout than normal, and maybe that explained why my brain wasn’t buzzing with its usual self-critical commentary. I was getting input from my hands, my eyes, my ears (listening out for killer bees, noticing the birds arguing about something, half listening to the voices of the rest of the class and the piping sounds of Clare teaching Lisa all about cat nipples), and my nose. I wondered why this was so relaxing when it was also so physically active. There was probably some metaphorical lesson to be drawn from it, but I was damned if I was going to hunt for it. For the first time in recent years I was going to stop thinking and just dig in the dirt.
How to Grow Cucumbers
Once your seeds are in the ground, protect them from pests by using netting, a berry basket, or a specially trained golden eagle. Whatever you have on hand.
• Occasionally put your finger in the soil to test the moisture level: If it is dry past the first joint of your finger, get out the watering can. If you can’t pull your finger out, you’re overwatering. Inconsistent watering leads to bitter-tasting fruit.
• Water slowly in the morning or early afternoon, avoiding the leaves. Water droplets on delicate leaves become magnifying glasses in the sun, burning the plant and really pissing it off.
• Spray vines with sugar water to attract bees and set more fruit.
• Cucumbers may not set fruit because the first flowers were all male. Both female and male flowers must be blooming at the same time. Be patient.
Chapter 8
After class had officially ended, we all stood around chatting. Gene continued to be in his strangely unsmiling yet obviously happy mood, which turned out to be kind of charming.
“So, Gene,” I said. I had decided to investigate my classmates. “Do you have kids?”
He nodded. “Two, one about to graduate from college, and one about to have her first baby. It’s very exciting. My wife is visiting her now. The house is very quiet without her.”
“So you should come and eat at our house,” piped up Clare, who had taken a fancy to Gene, possibly because of his support over the tractor riding. “My mom said she might order pizza for when we’re working in the garden.”
Gene smiled a little, which, as you might have guessed, was his notion of a mild frown. “Oh, that’s OK, but thank you, Clare. I’m sure your mom has plenty to do without additional guests.”
“She’s already having additional guests.” Edward had arrived, along with Impossibly Handsome Bob. “Bob and I are going over to help her create a charming oasis in her back garden.”
I smiled, a little bit embarrassed that he was telling everyone he was coming over. Rachel chimed in. “I’ll be there, too, and I was planning on mostly standing in the bathroom, examining the zit that’s appearing next to my nose. If you’re there, you’ll be able to do the work I could theoretically have done.”
I looked around at everyone else. What the hell? “Actually, if anyone else wants to come and hang out and eat pizza and laugh at my garden, you’re all welcome. Angie, Bash can hang out with the kids and play, if you like. The house is a mess, and all I was going to do was indeed order a couple of pizzas, but it would be nice.” I shrugged, trying to convey a mixture of relaxed invitingness and casual no-pressureness. I’m generally a grumpy, reclusive person on the inside, but sometimes on the outside I surprise myself with my friendliness.
Amazingly, they all said yes. Edward was thrilled.
“I think with all of us there, we can do the whole thing this afternoon! It will be fun.”
“And next week you can do mine.” Angie laughed.
“Why not? It can be a project. We will do everyone’s garden.” Edward was serious. “Do you have a garden, Angela?”
She sobered. “No, I have a balcony. Actually, I have two balconies because I live next to my mother and we ripped out the separator a decade ago. But still, no earth.”
Edward’s eyes gleamed. “Great! A container garden. They can be wonderful.”
Angie looked dubious and changed the subject.
I gave everyone my address, and we all headed for our cars. I admit I sped on the way home, in order to get home and clear the more obvious health hazards before they arrived. But apparently Eloise and Frances held the teacher land speed record, because they were standing outside the house when I got there.
Frances smiled at me. “We hurried so we could help tidy up a bit before everyone descends on you.”
For a second I thought about pretending there was no need, but common sense prevailed. “That would be fantastic. It looks like a disaster area in there. You have no idea.”
Eloise laughed. “We taught elementary school for twenty years apiece. We have every idea. You think two kids can create havoc, you should see what two dozen kids can achieve.”
Frances nodded, following us into the house that didn’t, for once, smell disturbing. “And when we started teaching there would often be thirty kids in the class, and the classroom would frequently devolve into an anarchist state.” She laughed, which was reassuring, as it was probably utterly terrifying at the time.
Eloise looked around at my kitchen, which still had all the breakfast dishes out everywhere. “It’s not too bad, actually,” she said, which was patently untrue. “Why don’t I load the dishwasher while you clear the surfaces, and Frances and Rachel and the kids can do a quick once-over everywhere else.”
She opened the dishwasher and got started. She was so . . . capable. Then the doorbell rang, and I went to get it. It was Angela and Bash.
“Hey, I tried to get here fast to help you with cleaning up. Bash, run and find the girls . . .” He had already shot into the house. She turned and grinned at me. “I think he’s in love with Clare.”
I shrugged. “She’ll break his heart, I’m afraid. She’s a fickle pickle.” I turned and led the way to the kitchen, passing the cleaning crew of Rachel, Frances, and now all three kids throwing things behind the sofa in the living room.
Angie laughed. “I see you already have a team in place.”
I nodded. “Eloise is working on the kitchen, but it could easily use all three of us. Thanks for helping.”
She squeezed my arm. “I swear, if everyone’s coming to my place next week, I’m going to need my entire extended family to take off work and come clean. Otherwise, you’ll never all fit.” She looked around at my house. “I like your house. It’s very cool.”
I tried to see past the mess. It was a nice house. When Dan and I had bought it, it was a total wreck, but we had worked hard on it. (This was before the kids, obviously, although people do strip paint and sand floors with children underfoot, hard though it is to imagine. I would always be tempted to wall one of them up when no one was looking.) It was a Spanish-style, one-story house, with dark wood floors, white plaster walls, arched doorways, and lots of original woodwork. I had mostly painted the walls white, but inside the niches I had done bright blues, yellows, oranges, and the kids’ room was colorful, too. Angie was still talking.
“Rachel told me you’re an artist, and I can see that in the house.”
I laughed, embarrassed. “I’m not really an artist. I’m just an illustrator.”
“What’s the difference?”
I thought about it. “An artist works from inspiration. An illustrator works by direction, illustrating a text.”
She thought about it. “So the only difference is who you work for.”
“I guess.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very big difference to me.”
Rachel walked in, saving me from having to respond.
“It’s all done, I’m having Eloise come to my place after. She’s an angel of cleaning. She claims it’s from not being able to leave work until the classroom was picked up, but I think it’s a God-given talent.”
“Like being an artist,” said Angie, airily, and walked off toward the kitchen.
Rachel looked at me. “Did I miss something?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Here come the guys. Did they charter a bus?”
Edward, Gene, Mike, and Lisa were coming up the front path. Gene was carrying some tools, and Mike and Lisa were chattering away. I held open the door.
“Mike’s going to teach me to surf,” Lisa said. She seemed thrilled. “We’re going today, after this.”
I made an encouraging expression. “That’s exciting. I guess there’s not much surfing in Holland.”
She laughed. “It is the North Sea! No one goes into it on purpose.” Still chuckling at the idiocy of Americans, she and Mike headed off into the house.
Gene next. “You surf already, I imagine, Gene.”
He frowned. “Not ever, but my wife would probably like me to try. She has big plans for me.” I was starting to revise my opinion of his wife. She sounded a lot ballsier than I had originally thought. Edward stopped as he came in the doorway.
“Hello, Lilian.”
I managed to say hello back without incident, but he wasn’t done. “I realized on the way over that invading your house this way might not be comfortable for you.”
I shook my head. “Hey, I invited everyone, remember? It’s nice to have new people here for a change, and I’m too old to care what people think of my messy place. Mostly.”
He frowned. People were frowning at me a lot today. “You are not old, Lilian. You are young and beautiful.” And with this he turned and followed the others. I stood there like a mushroom, a young and beautiful mushroom, but a mushroom nonetheless. I couldn’t even tell you that he was flirting with me. He was very serious and didn’t smile as he said it, but still, he had called me beautiful, and it was nice to hear. Confusing, but nice.
I went to shut the door and nearly smashed poor Bob’s face, which would have been painful for him and a loss to women everywhere.
“Oh, sorry, Bob! I didn’t realize you were there.”
He grinned. “Happens all the time. Edward asked me to drive the truck over with your plants.”
Finally, my turn to frown. “My plants?”
“Yeah, plants for your garden, I guess. Shall I bring them through the house, or is there a side way?”
I showed him the side way, and where he could park the truck, then I looked in the truck and goggled. It was full of flowers, plants, shrubs, trays of moss and ferns, bags of soil and compost and mulch. Hoses, watering cans, bamboo stakes. Paving slabs, ornamental stones. I think I saw a birdbath as the truck pulled past me. This was too much. I went to have it out with Edward.
He was standing in the backyard with Gene and Eloise, pointing at things in an impressive way. He had a printout of my picture, for crying out loud. Everyone else, from the sound of it, was playing with My Little Ponies in the kids’ room. Well, except for Frank, who was standing next to Gene and being patted. When Gene paused, Frank would stretch up on his tippy toes, which is challenging for a fat Labrador, to push his head back into range. Shameless.
As I got close, Gene turned.
“I like your dog,” he said, and actually smiled a real smile. Frank does that to people, I’ll give him that.
“Thanks.” I wasn’t going to be distracted. “Edward, why is Bob here with a truckload of plants?”
Edward looked surprised. “Because we are going to fix your garden, are we not? How are we going to do it without plants?”
I considered this. “I thought you needed to look at it first?”
He shrugged. “Surely, but then I thought I might as well bring a few things. If we can’t use everything I’ll just take it back to the botanical garden.”
I studied him in disbelief. “A few things? There’s a truckload out there. I don’t know that I can . . .” I trailed off, suddenly shy.
Edward’s face cleared. “Ah, you are worried about the cost! Do not give it a second thought. It is all paid for by my company because I am going to take before and after photos and make it a work expense. In fact, I am thinking of doing a book about the course.”
Eloise spoke. “You could do before-and-afters of everyone’s garden, as part of the book. It would be interesting to see how learning to garden has changed people’s outdoor space.”
Edward nodded. “And we can ask Lilian to illustrate it.” He smiled at me. “You’re illustrating my family’s vegetable guide, aren’t you? That’s the book you talked about the first time?”
I frowned. “Yes . . . how did you know that?”
He shrugged and looked embarrassed suddenly. “I was talking to my sister, who runs the book-publishing business, and she mentioned we were trying a new publisher and that they’d said they were going to send an illustrator . . . I just put two and two together.”
