~ Chapter Eight ~

Lord, I want time alone with Madison tonight. A date. I wish she saw it like a date, not just friends getting together. I don’t mind my friend, Abbi, being around, but please let her stay home this time. In Your Son’s name. Amen. Jimmy John released a heavy sigh and turned Blacky onto the main road toward the Building Supply. He glanced at the change of clothes in the passenger seat. He’d change if he got a clear signal of a date with Madison. Date? Why don’t you ask her out, numbskull?

Before going to his desk, Jimmy John made a detour to the garden center. He spotted Marshall watering the container trees. The middle-aged man had worked for his dad in the garden center since it opened. Two years ago, his wife passed away, and since then, he’d battled a bout of depression and nearly became a recluse. He finally opened up to Jimmy John about what he’d endured losing his wife from a heart attack. Glad Marshall returned to church after their heart-to-heart talk.

Jimmy John had admitted to his friend he wasn’t qualified to help him and knew nothing about grieving. No one in his family had suffered such a loss. But Marshall said all he needed was an ear. So Jimmy John gave his friend what he needed—he listened, not offering any advice, regardless of the urge to provide comfort with a word or two. No, he hadn’t said a word. When he finished, both men sobbed. One to let the burden of grief be released and the other because the Holy Spirit lightened his friend’s sorrow, if only for a short while. “Marshall.”

The tall man glanced over his shoulder, waved to Jimmy John, and turned off the garden hose. “What’s up?”

“I thought you were off today.”

“Had errands this morning.”

So that was him driving past Taylor’s place earlier. “I need some fall vegetable plants. Do you have any on sale or clearance?”

“Let’s go see. Are you planting a fall garden?”

Jimmy John kept stride alongside the employee to the vegetable plant area.

“No. Do you remember Taylor Sanderson?”

“The lady’s house we worked on during the summer?” He gave a sideways smile.

“I figured you’d recall her since you and she talked for quite a while.” He could swear that Marshall’s eyes lit up. Madison is right, after all. “She wants to plant a fall garden. I agreed to help her plow the dirt. I’ll talk to Buddy Jack to look at the well on her property. I hope it’s fixable at a minimum cost. The county water can be shut off, saving her money, if he can get it converted to the well.”

“Your plans are well-thought-out, Jimmy John. Come on. The center is low on fall plants, but we’ll have another shipment next week. The day before new stock arrives, leftovers will be on sale. Grab a cart, and we’ll get these today and the remaining when the shipment arrives. You kinda get an employee discount.” He chuckled. “The ones you buy today should give you a good start. I’ll pay for the next batch of plants when they arrive.”

Jimmy John strode to the front entrance and returned with a garden cart. “I talked to Mrs. Vanguard about getting the church ladies to help. Don’t have a clue about plants.”

“Lucky for you that I do. I’ll put them in the back of your truck. When you get home, put them in partial shade and keep them watered. Say, I’ll help you prepare the soil and plant if you like.”

“Sure. I can always use some help.” I should’ve asked for his help before he offered. Something is different about Marshall. Is he infatuated? Well, with Taylor. He chuckled inwardly at the thought.

“How’s Taylor doing?”

Jimmy John swiped his credit card through the reader. A smile teased on the corner of his lips. “Fine. I’ve never seen a person’s attitude change so much in such a short amount of time. Life really hit her hard. She has a whole new outlook. The church ladies have stepped up with several new outfits. After we finished with her house and yard, Madison, and Abbi took her to Sweet Sue’s beauty salon. She has a new hairstyle, a pedicure, and a manicure. Her manicure will take a beating if we get this garden going.” He laughed. “Women and their beauty formalities, but gotta admit those things accentuate what they have.”

Marshall tore off the receipt and handed it to Jimmy John. His furrowed brow suggested something, but what? “Most of the women in the area go to Sweet Sue’s,” he muttered. “My wife did too.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up an unhappy memory.” Jimmy John gripped his friend’s shoulder.

“No matter. It stings sometimes. I’ll put these in your truck.” Marshall pushed the cart to the parking lot.

Marshall loaded the half-decent variety of six vegetable plants in Jimmy John’s truck bed. A single tear trailed from his eye and off his cheek at memories of him and Katie working their garden every spring until the first frost. The memories hit hard today. “I miss you, sweetheart. No warning, not even a word before you left me. One day, I get to see you again. You’ll walk beside me, lead me into our Savior’s arms. I have Jesus’ promise.” He leaned his forearms across the truck’s bed. “Katie, would you be disappointed in me if I remarry? I met a lady, and she’s nothing like you. She’s a little plump around the middle and limps from an auto accident years ago. When we talked, I could feel her heart, just like the way I did with you. The moment her hand slipped into mine...I knew. Sweetheart, she’s been beaten down by a hard life. She has a story. Whatever it is, I’ll listen, and try to understand. With your blessing and the Lord’s, we’ll be together. I’ve been so lonely since you left me. Please, please don’t judge me, sweetheart.”

“Sir. Sir.”

A lady calling drew him from his reverie. “Yes, ma’am, how may I help you?” She held a small dog. Marshall hurried toward the customer. He couldn’t determine the breed of dog in her arms, but it looked cute. A year after Katie died, Bouncer, their fourteen-pound border terrier, started coughing and passed away before he could get him to the vet. The doctor said he had a heart attack. Afterward, Marshall went into a bout of depression. Seemed everyone he cared about was dying on his watch. Jimmy John helped him by being a friend and listening. Then, he finally took his pain to the Lord. The Lord urged him to attend GriefShare sessions, which helped with further closure.

“When is the best time to plant a tree? My pecan tree split at the trunk in the last storm, and I want to replace it. Do you have any pecan trees in the center?”

“We do. Follow me, and I’ll show you our varieties in stock.” Marshall nodded. “What’s your puppy’s name?”

“Princess. She’s a Shih Tzu, about three months old.”

“She’s cute.” Better not go any further about dogs, it might be too much for me. One thing I’ve learned in the last two years is to keep myself out of situations that carry those hurtful memories.

The woman followed Marshall to where he had been watering earlier. From her description, the trees in the center were too small, but he had an alternative plan. “Ma’am, you’ve missed the right time to plant a pecan tree in this area. The best time is in the spring. Are you still interested in looking at what we have in stock? We can always order what you want for the spring and deliver it to your property after the first frost.”

“Oh, dear. I want to replace it with an identical type. My finances are limited, so I must get a smaller tree. Is there a catalog available I can look through?”

“Yes, ma’am. Let’s go over to the counter. There are several to choose from.”

When Marshall helped at Taylor’s place, he’d noticed several fruit trees, evergreens, oaks, and pine trees scattered throughout the property. Jimmy John’s idea of a fall garden had him thinking where the perfect place would be to till up.

By the end of the day, Marshall had sketched a preliminary of a garden on the back of an envelope.

Jimmy John couldn’t keep his mind on his work. He’d watch the clock on the opposite wall as it slowly ticked off the minutes until he could see Madison, hoping Abbi wouldn’t be there. Today, his phone was silent like never before. So, he withdrew it from beneath the counter and swiped the screen. Ugh. The battery is dead. I forgot to charge it last night.

Pulling the charger cord from the drawer, he plugged it in. After the phone came alive again, he checked his messages—two from Madison—no one else mattered. The breath in his lungs stilled as he opened the first one. Abbi can’t come to Toodie’s tonight. See ya there. He scrolled to the second message. I’ll be late to Toodie’s. I have to help Mom, sorry. See ya there.

The air returned to Jimmy John’s lungs, and he could’ve jumped on top of the counter and danced a jig or the Texas two-step. But no, he wouldn’t do that. He sent a reply. Madi, sorry Abbi can’t come. No problem about the time. See you there.

The afternoon sailed by faster with the messages from the woman he loved. Granted, this wasn’t an actual date, and he hadn’t asked Madison out officially, but Jimmy John remained persistent in his head by still counting it as one.

Minutes before the store closed, Jimmy John hurried to Blacky and grabbed the clothes off the seat. Tonight, he’d have the opportunity to be alone with Madison on what he considered a date. As he crossed the parking lot, Marshall waved to him as he shut and secured the garden center gate. Jimmy John returned the gesture and quickened his steps inside.

He stepped out of the men’s room dressed in a freshly starched, white button-down shirt and a clean pair of jeans. He avoided dressing up too much. They were going to a burger joint, the same one they’d frequented throughout their teen years. But tonight, the visit would be different. He hoped to finally get the nerve to tell Madison how he felt about her.

With the Building Supply doors locked and the employees making their way to their vehicles, Jimmy John started Blacky and then turned off the engine. He opened the glove compartment and withdrew a bottle of cologne—the scent Madison said she liked him to wear. He avoided splashing on too much. Didn’t want to smother her. After replacing the bottle, he withdrew his Bible. He needed a Word from God, His assurance. The Bible fell open to Jeremiah 29:11-12. Whenever he needed uplifting, he’d read the verses highlighted in green. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.”

His lungs filled with air, and he lifted his chin. “Thank You, Lord.”

Within five minutes, Jimmy John pulled Blacky into Toodie’s parking lot. Madison’s truck wasn’t in sight. He checked his cell for messages, but there were none. A nervous tic began with his right leg and moved upward to his hands—both of them. His heart seemed set on bursting from his chest. Taking a few deep breaths didn’t relieve the uncontrollable actions of his limbs.

He opened the truck’s door and stepped onto the asphalt. Pocketing his keys, he strolled inside to find a booth. The same booth they’d shared on so many occasions.

When Jimmy John slid onto the seat, a repeat from the truck incident returned, and his right leg bounced furiously. He fisted his hands on the table, grateful they were calmer. Lord, give me the words so I can tell Madison how I feel. Soften my approach, please, ‘cause sometimes I can be too straightforward, and it’s taken the wrong way. Holy Spirit, guide me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

When he’d finished, he looked up, and Madison stood at the table staring at him.