Apples Should Be Red by Penny Watson Read Free Book Online Page B

and bunches of white daisies. They looked good with his green house. She’d tucked all kinds of foliage plants into the border. And hung pots from the old hooks on the porch.
    “Well, what do you think? Is it going into the compost pile?” Bev blew out a long breath as she assessed her work. “By the way, thanks for mowing. Now I don’t need to leave a bread crumb trail to find my way back through the forest.”
    “Not funny.” Tom lit a cigarette.
    “Hmm.”
    “What’s that?” He pointed to a fragrant green plant.
    “That’s rosemary. I like to mix herbs into my borders. They smell nice, and they’re practical.” She glared at him. “I don’t only use nonessentials .”
    Tom cringed. “I said that, didn’t I?”
    “Uh huh.”
    “Did I sound like that big of a jackass when I said it?”
    “Yes, you did.”
    Instead of apologizing, he pointed to another plant. “What’s that over there?”
    “Calendula. They’re one of my favorites. The petals are edible.”
    “How much work is this gonna be? I don’t feel like fussing with a bunch of flowers.”
    “Low maintenance. I put down a tarp with the mulch, so you shouldn’t have any weeds.”
    “Well, it would be stupid to rip this up now. It would take me all afternoon. And…uh…the truth is…” He mumbled under his breath.
    “What, Tom?” Beverly turned to face him.
    “I guess I like it well enough. Doesn’t look half-bad, not too prissy. I like the herbs, too.” He ashed in the grass. “You did good work. I feel like a big asshole for watching you all day.”
    “You did mow down the forest.”
    “That I did.”
    “Oh wait! I forgot!” Beverly ran to the BMW and lifted something out of the trunk. She carried a small statue to the garden plot and placed it next to the stairs. It was one of those grumpy looking gnomes, with the pointy red hat and bright blue coat.
    “What the fuck is that?”
    She laughed. “It’s you! I couldn’t resist when I saw it at the farm stand. Look at his face. Doesn’t he look cranky?”
    Tom turned to Bev and started to laugh. He laughed so hard, it felt like he hacked up a lung. Beverly laughed harder. They had tears running down their cheeks as they stared at the gnome.
    “Thank you. Beverly. Not for the gnome. For the rest of it.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “The gnome won’t last twenty four hours. One of the druggie teenagers will steal it. Guaranteed.”
    “That’s okay. I got it on sale.”
    He reached over and grabbed her hand. He lifted it for inspection. Small and soft. “You broke a nail. You broke a nail for this garden. Was it worth it?”
    “It was worth it. It was worth seeing you laugh, and knowing you like it. Even though that probably killed you to admit it.”
    “Yup.”
    She looked down at her hand, still clutched in his. “Maybe it’s time to trim my nails. I guess that would make life a little bit easier.”
    “I approve of that decision. I’m tired of you stabbing the shit out of me.”
    They laughed again.
    Tom sighed. “Just so you know, it’s not going to change anything. I’m not planning to host any neighborhood parties with fucking Ritz cracker snacks. I just like how it looks.”
    “Okay. That’s good enough for now.”

 

    B everly was ready to cook. She had a station laid out for stuffing. A station for the broccoli casserole. A station for potatoes and yams. And a station for pies. Each area had cutting boards, the proper ingredients premeasured, and plastic containers for storage. Tomorrow she would pop everything into the oven just before Karen and John arrived, so it would be piping hot and perfect.
    Thanksgiving would be perfect.
    “You should have gone into the military, Bev. You would have made a good general.” Tom’s gaze raked over the kitchen with amusement. “Your attention to detail is terrifying.”
    “Yes, well, I’m not much for flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants with party preparation. I have a system, and it works for me,” she