An Obstinate Headstrong Girl. Abigail Bok
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now she paused briefly to admire the skill with which Aunt Evelyn had laid out the garden—most drought-tolerant landscapes she had seen in photographs were casual sprawls of ill-assorted plants, but here the loose forms were arranged with discipline and respect for fundamental principles of design, and the counterpoise of tradition with an unfamiliar plant palette was pleasing and intriguing to her eye. This early in February, little was blooming save for narcissi tucked into the corners, but everything had been tidied after the last growing season, and already fresh shoots were starting to appear.
But she was here for a purpose, not to loiter about admiring a garden. Giving herself a little shake, Lizzy turned to enter the house. She had always loved the building’s wide-armed Craftsman style, but its simplicity and heavy grace were inextricably bound up with her aunt’s presence there. Now it was impossible not to fear that some of the grace might be lost—would it be just a house like any other?
It was not. Indoors as well as out, all was well-kept, though a thin film of dust coated the surfaces inside and the air felt a little stuffy; but on every side were objects her aunt had treasured, which spoke of her interests, her passions, her personality, her sense of humor. The rooms were not cluttered, but well-stocked with the signifiers of a lively mind and an active life. Reminders of places she had been, beliefs she had held, and friends she had held dear were everywhere—and the books especially told tales of the person she was. Lizzy wandered, and touched, and smiled or speculated on the meaning of all she saw.
The kitchen was the room that really brought home to her the finality of her aunt’s absence. There were no odors of food, no dishes in the drying rack, no fruits in the bowl on the counter, only a dish towel folded neatly and hanging on a hook. She had never seen anything so empty. After that, she could not quite bring herself to go into her aunt’s bedroom—not just yet.
Instead, Lizzy sat down in the dining room and unfolded the letter from her aunt. She made a list of all the things Evelyn had wanted friends to have, and then passed the next half-hour locating what she could of these items and laying them out on the table. She found her aunt’s address book and labeled each gift with the name and phone number of the recipient. The activity focused her memories on the associations inspired by this or that in the house, and it was painful to think of sending these mementos off to live elsewhere. But she was a young woman, and her mind would not look backwards for long. Soon her imagination turned to picturing how the house was to be turned into a library that would become a gathering place for all of Lambtown, and she was going from room to room, picturing a children’s story circle here, computers over there, and rows of chairs for readings and book signings in the parlor in front of the fireplace.
While she was thus occupied, she was startled by a knock at the front door. A lady of about her father’s age, who seemed vaguely familiar, was on the doorstep, eyeing her with a little suspicion. Lizzy introduced herself and added, “I think we may have met some years ago? You were a friend of my aunt’s?”
Much relieved, the lady cried, “Oh, you’re Elizabeth! I’m so glad you’ve arrived. Yes, Evelyn and I were very close, especially the last few years, and I remember meeting you when you were a child. I’m Mary Gardiner; I live across the street, and have been keeping an eye on the house since it’s been unoccupied.”
Lizzy invited her in and did the honors of the house as best she might, with nothing in the fridge or pantry save a bottle of sparkling water and an old packet of cookies. Nibbling at the cookies in the living room, Lizzy and her guest both laughed and agreed that their heyday was past. Lizzy, recalling that among the items on her aunt’s list were a few for Mrs. Gardiner, jumped up and went to collect them from the dining table. She shyly offered to her guest a first edition of Elizabeth and Her German Garden and a delicate antique Chinese perfume bottle.
“My aunt left me some instructions for gifts she wanted to offer to various friends,” she explained. “These are what I have located so far for you.”
“Your aunt and I became friends over this book!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. “I was trying to decide whether to leave my first marriage, agonizing over a choice between the troubles of a life I knew and the perils of the unknown. She lent me this book, and the story echoed my dilemma and clarified my choice for me. Evelyn had a gift for guiding people in the right direction without ever uttering a word of advice.”
“I think she’s doing that for me right now,” said Lizzy, with a little smile.
“Yes, I believe she is. I don’t want to say too much, but I did witness her will and am the one person in town, aside from the attorneys, who knows a little about what your project is. You may rely on my discretion, and any help I can offer you—though in your aunt’s spirit, I should try to avoid advising!”
“Perhaps you’ll be able to help me with insights into Lambtown and the issues that prompted her to secrecy.”
“Perhaps I can,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “In the meantime, are you here on your own? Do you plan to live in the house?”
“No, my entire family has come. We’re looking for a house to rent. I told them this house wouldn’t be big enough for everyone—and in any case I figured some construction work would be necessary here, and it would be very inconvenient to have a crowd of people in residence.”
“How many are you?”
“There are eight of us—my parents, four brothers and sisters, and my younger brother’s wife.”
“Eight of you! Good heavens. This is a small town, and there aren’t a lot of opportunities here. How will you ever find things to do?”
“Well, my mother works in the home—as in fact does my father, he’s self-employed. My elder brother, John, worked at Starbucks in Columbus, and will probably look for something similar in this area. Mary is still getting her education; Lydon’s wife, Jenny, is the daughter of an air force officer who has just been transferred to Vandenberg, and I expect he will find her a job on base. Lydon will probably look for work there, too, or somewhere nearby; and Kitty may follow his lead. I was a landscape contractor in Columbus; I’ll need to learn more about the local plants and seasons before I can do any design work, but I may be able to get some garden maintenance jobs in the meantime.”
“Well, that’s something I can help you with,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “My husband Edward owns the nursery here—Gardiner’s, out on the Old Coach Road. He can teach you what you need to know and put you in touch with possible clients. But will you have time to work, on top of all your responsibility with the foundation project?”
“I like to be busy,” said Lizzy cheerfully. “I won’t try for full-time employment, but a couple days a week of gardening will be good for me. I like working outside, and doing physical labor. I noticed that somebody has been tending the garden here—and very beautifully, I must say.”
“Yes, that’s my husband. He really admired Evelyn’s eye for plant selection and design, and it’s been his pleasure to maintain it according to her standards. I only wish he took as much care over our own garden! I grow herbs and flowers to make essential oils and perfumes, and he tends to leave the maintenance to me.”
“Oh, I remember my aunt having some wonderful noncommercial perfumes; I loved to sneak into her room and try them out. Were those yours?”
“Yes, indeed. I hope you’ll use the ones she had left over, and enjoy them—it would be sad to think of them just being thrown away.”
Lizzy confessed that she had not yet been able to go into her aunt’s room, but would be sure to rescue the perfumes when she did.
Mrs. Gardiner nodded sympathetically. “You’ll be able to face it in due time. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll all come to the memorial for Evelyn being held by our reading society, the Live Poets, and read something in her honor. I’ve taken over for her as the organizer of the group, and it’ll be at my house, on the twenty-third at seven o’clock.”
“I’m sure we’ll all want to attend,” said Lizzy, hoping silently that she could make it so. “What can I bring?”