They'd both forget he'd even brought it up.
* * *
Because she felt it was imperative, at least for the first six months of her management, Stella insisted on a weekly progress meeting with Roz.
She'd have preferred a specific time for these meetings, and a specific location. But Roz was hard to pin down.
She'd already held them in the propagation house and in the field. This time she cornered Roz in her own sitting room, where she'd be unlikely to escape.
"I wanted to give you your weekly update. "
"Oh. Well, all right. " Roz set aside a book on hybridizing that was thick as a railroad tie, and took off her frameless reading glasses. 'Time's zipping by. Ground's warming up. "
"I know. Daffodils are ready to pop. So much earlier than I'm used to. We've been selling a lot of bulbs. Back north, we'd sell most of those late summer or fall. "
"Homesick?"
"Now and then, but less and less already. I can't say I'm sorry to be out of Michigan as we slog through February. They got six inches of snow yesterday, and I'm wat
ching daffodils spearing up. "
Roz leaned back in the chair, crossed her sock-covered feet at the ankles. "Is there a problem?"
"So much for the illusion that I conceal my emotions under a composed facade. No, no problem. I did the duty call home to my mother a little while ago. I'm still recovering. "
"Ah. "
It was a noncommittal sound, and Stella decided she could interpret it as complete non-interest or a tacit invitation to unload. Because she was brimming, she chose to unload.
"I spent the almost fifteen minutes she spared me out of her busy schedule listening to her talk about her current boyfriend. She actually calls these men she sees boyfriends. She's fifty-eight years old, and she just had her fourth divorce two months ago. When she wasn't complaining that Rocky - and he's actually named Rocky - isn't attentive enough and won't take her to the Bahamas for a midwinter getaway, she was talking about her next chemical peel and whining about how her last Botox injection hurt. She never asked about the boys, and the only reference she made to the fact that I was living and working down here was to ask if I was tired of being around the jerk and his bimbo - her usual terms for my father and Jolene. "
When she'd run out of steam, Stella rubbed her hands over her face. "Goddamn it. "
"That's a lot of bitching, whining, and venom to pack into a quarter of an hour. She sounds like a very talented woman. "
It took Stella a minute - a minute where she let her hands slide into her lap so she could stare into Roz's face. Then she let her own head fall back with a peal of laughter.
"Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, she's loaded with talent. Thanks. "
"No problem. My mama spent most of her time - at least the time we were on earth together - sighing wistfully over her health. Not that she meant to complain, so she said. I very nearly put that on her tombstone. 'Not That I Mean to Complain. '"
"I could put 'I Don't Ask for Much' on my mother's. "
"There you go. Mine made such an impression on me that I went hell-bent in the opposite direction. I could probably cut off a limb, and you wouldn't hear a whimper out of me. "
"God, I guess I've done the same with mine. I'll have to think about that later. Okay, on to business. We're sold out of the mixed-bulb planters we forced. I don't know if you want to do others this late in the season. "
"Maybe a few. Some people like to pick them up, already done, for Easter presents and so on. "
"All right. How about if I show Hayley how it's done? I know you usually do them yourself, but - "
"No, it's a good job for her. I've been watching her. " At Stella's expression, she inclined her head.
"I don't like to look like I'm watching, but generally I am. I know what's going on in my place, Stella, even if I do occasionally miss crossing a T. "
"And I'm there to cross them, so that's all right. "
"Exactly. Still, I've left her primarily to you. She working out for you?"