“Partner up! In two weeks, we’ll be cleaning up trash along our adopted highway southwest of town, and as KayAnn and Nell have learned, it’s best to work in pairs. Just let Ivory know who your other half will be.”
Austin Rocks! the e-newsletter of the Austin Rock Garden Society
“Ta-da,” Twyla said, holding up her hands in presentation. “Thought I’d never get here, didn’t you?”
“No,” Pru said, “I didn’t think that. Of course not.” Twyla cocked her head, and Pru laughed. “Well, yes, okay—I was beginning to worry. Ivory said you were busy. It’s lovely to meet you,” she added.
Twyla pulled the elastic band off her ponytail, combed her fingers through her hair, and secured it again with the band. “I’m sorry I was delayed. And once I did get here, I had to clear my head, reconnect to the place.” Twyla’s smile broadened as she looked beyond the display site and around the entire show grounds. “Can you believe that we’re doing this—capturing that moment in spring when the roadsides of Texas are the color of the sky—the color of the lakes? And putting them on display here, of all places?”
Pru nodded, entranced. “It is amazing. How did it happen? How did you get a garden at the Chelsea Flower Show?”
Twyla sat on a stack of Chiv’s stones. “It took me a while. The society—well, they weren’t the easiest sell. But I told them this, here”—she pointed to the earth below her feet—“was the only place to be for gardening.”
“You’ve spent time in England?”
“I lived here for a couple of years. It was ages ago—and I couldn’t stay. Family needed me—my crazy sister and my daddy both. I tried to take a bit of Britain back to Texas with me.” She laughed and shook her head. “That didn’t work out. But this place is in my bones—I feel like I belong here.”
“Oh yes,” Pru said. Clouds had thickened, sending a heavy mist upon them. Tiny beads of moisture settled on their sweatshirts. Pru thought she should go to the shed and get out her waterproofs, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment, and so pulled up her hood and stuck her hands deep in her pockets as she settled on another pile of stones nearby. She and Twyla fell into chatting about Texas and England.
After a while, Twyla said, “I knew you’d understand. Your mother was English.”
“Yes. You must’ve heard that from…who was it told Ivory about me?”
“I told her,” Twyla said. “I’ve always kept up with the news here. I read all the papers online—The Guardian, the Independent, The Telegraph, The Scotsman—even the Daily Mail,” she added in a whisper, and they both laughed.
But Pru’s laughter dried up. “So you’d read about me?”
Twyla narrowed her eyes at her. “Yes, I did read about you—the important stuff. I knew where you came from and I could tell how much you love it here. I know you’re a fine gardener. And it came to me that you were the one we needed—boots on the ground. It’s weird, isn’t it—here we are meeting for the first time, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Pru had been poised to dislike Twyla, now suddenly she felt a kinship.
“Have you seen the others yet?” Pru asked.
The sun sank behind the top of the plane trees on the far side of the grounds, and light faded, but not so much that Pru didn’t see the excitement drain from Twyla’s face. She shook her head.
Pru smiled. “Everyone will be happy to see you.”
“Not everyone.” Twyla frowned. She rubbed her forehead. “I’m so sorry about all this, but it isn’t enough to wait around for someone else to do what’s right. Sometimes we are the ones that have to do it.”
“You’re right—no more waiting,” Pru said with a renewed sense of purpose now that she could relinquish some responsibility. She unclipped her hair, combed through, and reclipped. “You’re here now. We’ll get the garden finished.”
They both looked round at the bare ground and pallets of stone. “I know they think I’m a tyrant,” Twyla said, “but I can’t help it. I could see this—it was my dream. But I couldn’t do it alone, could I? I had to ask for help…That hasn’t turned out as I’d hoped,” she added sadly.
“Are you a professional gardener?”
Twyla blushed. “I’ve been studying at the local junior college for the past few years—in the summer when school was out.”
“Yes, now I remember—you teach high school chemistry.”
“Taught,” Twyla said. “For twenty years all total. It’s enough to drive a sane woman batty. My ex-husband said that every September I used to recite the periodic table in my sleep.”
“You must be a good teacher—Forde spoke highly of you.”
“Ah, Forde,” Twyla said, sighing. “Every once in a while, in a sea of juniors who see you as a ticket machine, spitting out science credits toward graduation, there’ll be one standout, one kid who gets it. You never know what that one might do. I had a girl who’s gone on to become head of R&D for a big drug company, working on a treatment for liver cancer.”
“And now Forde, developing a process to take the world of energy by storm,” Pru said.
Twyla looked into the distance. After a moment, she said, “Seven years ago, when Forde sat down in my class, his very presence reminded me of what I’d left behind. It was like he was England personified, right in the front row. I’ve been working to get back here ever since.”
They were quiet, until Pru had added up what she knew.
“Is this your design?”
Twyla looked round them. “Do you think it works?”
“I think it’s fantastic.”
“The hill country is an important place,” Twyla said, laying one hand on a flat stone. “I’ve been reminded of that more than once. This is our heritage—our bluebonnets. We can’t let anyone take that away from us.”
“But if it’s your design, why is Roddy’s name on it?”
“Well, that’s it, isn’t it? It’s Roddy’s name. I needed him for that. Although I forgot how grabby he can be.”
“So you do know him—and Chiv?”
“Chiv,” Twyla said, in a voice so intimate that Pru blushed. “You’d never suspect the depth of him at first glance, but when you get to know him…well. And he can work with stone like no one’s business. Look at that now.” She nodded to the cairn that covered the source of the spring. “He’s a sorcerer with rock and stone. And he’s a good teacher. Chiv’s good at just about anything he sets his mind to—although he isn’t appreciated for it.”
Pru continued to put the pieces together. “Was Forde the one who got this company—GlobalSynergy—to sponsor the garden?”
Twyla laughed. “I had help there, too—calling in my chits, I suppose. And now I’m about to blow it all sky high.” She stood and brushed the mist from her sweatshirt. “Look, Pru, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you could step in at the last minute.”
That sounds like a dismissal, Pru thought. She had known all along her role was temporary, and being relieved of the pressure was the very thing for which she’d been longing. And yet, unexpectedly, a sense of disappointment welled up inside her.
“I hope you won’t leave,” Twyla continued, “because I still need you. They’re going to blame me when this comes out, and I need you on my side.”
“You need to get the credit due you,” Pru said, “and I’m more than willing to stick around and make sure that happens. And of course I’d love to keep working at the garden—really, I’d planned on it.”
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to go on, and I’d hate to lose all this”—she looked round the site—“but it’s got to come out. We cannot let this be in danger.” Twyla stuck her hands in the front pockets of her sweatshirt. “I knew we’d get along. I knew I could count on you.”
Pru was indignant on Twyla’s behalf. No wonder Roddy showed up at the garden so seldom—it wasn’t even his, and yet he would get the glory. Twyla deserved to be known for her work.
“I promise I’ll do everything I can.”
Twyla put her hand to her chest and exhaled. “I know it sounds like I’m talking in circles— it’s how my mind is working right now, I’m that tired. I’ll explain it all to you tomorrow. I’ll show you—meet me here first thing in the morning. It’ll be safe till then.” She tapped a finger at her temple. “I figured out a way.”