Chapter Five
“So, you haven’t talked to them? Any of them?” Stevie was crouching down, checking the undersides of the glossy green leaves of a recent arrival at USBG’s production facility. The Cinnamomum kotoense was five feet tall and had the look of an ornamental tree. Currently on the critically endangered list, the species was part of the Care for the Rare program. “It’s been, what, two weeks?” she added. “And they haven’t called you either? Not even Abbey Road?”
“Addie Pearl,” Sunny corrected her, with a wry twist to her lips. “And no, I haven’t.”
“Nothing from Ringo or Paul, either?”
Sunny spent most of her time working with the endangered orchids that were part of the same program, but she and Stevie often worked together on new arrivals, checking them before introducing them to their specified greenhouses. In this case, the new Cinnamomum kotoense plants were on the list to be moved to the conservatory where the public could see them, along with several other endangered and rare species that would be new to public view. She stopped her own examination and straightened. “I’m afraid to ask which one you think is which. And what’s with the Beatles references? You’re way too young to remember them.”
“You knew who I was talking about, and we’re the same age.”
“Because my mother was the queen of oldies,” Sunny said. “Unfortunately, I am a walking encyclopedia of all music from the sixties and seventies.” She shot her friend a smile. “Whether I want to be or not.”
“The Beatles weren’t unfortunate,” Stevie said. “They were brilliant. And I have you trumped on the mom deal.”
Sunny laughed at that. “Oh, my young padawan, I think not.”
Stevie merely arched a brow. “Okay, Obi-Wan. My name? Stevie? It’s not short for anything. I’m not a Stephanie, or a Stevanna, or anything lovely and exotic like that. I’m just Stevie.” When that didn’t make Sunny so much as blink, she said, “You know my folks are musicians. I was named after my mother’s favorite group, Fleetwood Mac. She loved Stevie Nicks.”
That had Sunny’s eyebrows lifting. “We’ve been working side by side for, what, a year and a half now? How is it I never knew that?”
“I try not to let it come up in conversation. You don’t even want to know what my middle name is.”
Sunny’s smile grew. “Only one middle name? Good try, but again, I’ve got this. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee you that you’ve finally found the one person on earth who will think your name is downright boring. At least by comparison. But you go right on ahead.”
Stevie slid off her thin blue gloves and folded her arms. She was slightly shorter than Sunny, with enviable curves where Sunny had none, skin the color of golden mahogany, beautiful green eyes that were bright and sharp, and a thick head of reddish brown hair that she kept tamed into a bun during work, but that Sunny happened to know sprang into a full, gorgeous afro when all the pins were out of it. Stevie gestured at herself with one hand. “Do I look like a Stevie Nicks to you? Even if I donned the boots and the scarves and had a painfully thin, guitar-playing husband, do you see any Stevie in me? Do you honestly think my mama took one look at me when I was born and thought, Hey, little Stevie Nicks?”
Sunny cocked her head to the side. “Little Stevie Wonder, maybe,” she deadpanned.
Stevie’s eyes went wide but she hooted in laughter. “Oh, no, you didn’t. Okay, I see how it is. You must know we’re good friends. I can’t believe you just said that.”
Sunny smiled, knowing they were, indeed, good friends, and thankful for it. “You’re going to make me guess your middle name, aren’t you?”
“Oh, no, honey. I’m not telling you now.”
Sunny pulled off her own gloves and extended her right hand. “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sunshine Meadow Aquarius Morrison Goodwin.”
Stevie goggled. “You are making that right up. Props for creativity though.”
“Would you like to see my driver’s license?”
Stevie’s smile faltered. “You’re serious? They got all that on your license?”
Sunny just smiled. “And you think you have it bad filling out paperwork.”
“We’ve worked together for what, a year and a half now, and I’m just now hearing about this?” Stevie parroted back at her.
“I don’t like to talk about it,” Sunny shot right back. She wiggled her fingers. “So, cough it up. Stevie . . . Janis? Stevie Grace?” Her eyes widened and she grinned. “No! Could it be . . . Stevie Cher?”
“Aretha.”
That stopped Sunny. “But . . . isn’t your last name—”
“Franklin? Mmm-hmm,” Stevie said. “My father had a sense of humor. And he’d already relented on the Stevie part.”
Sunny reached out and laid one hand on Stevie’s arm as she pretended to wipe away a mock tear. “I just want you to know, I have never felt so close to another human being in my entire life.”
Stevie brushed Sunny’s hand off, but she was laughing, and she gave Sunny’s shoulder a quick squeeze before they both got back to work. “So,” she said, as they worked their way through the specially zoned greenhouse, “you never answered me. Are you going back to the mountains?”
They were in one of thirty-four greenhouses that made up the largest greenhouse facility of a public garden in the United States. The greenhouses were carefully modulated into sixteen different temperate zones, depending on the plants they housed. The production facility held all the plants that were rotated into and out of the public conservatory on a seasonal basis, as well as a significant number that were never on display, but were grown and cared for there as part of any one of a number of different programs. The Care for the Rare program was one of those, but there were others that focused on things like sustainability and conservation.
The orchids under her care were part of a joint collaboration with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center. It was, in all ways, her dream job. She spent her days tending to some of the most fantastic and amazing plants in existence, and was left largely alone in her happy place. What more could anyone want? Not a defunct, crumbling silk mill in the middle of nowhere, that’s for certain.
“Earth to Sunshine,” Stevie said, then chuckled at herself. “Ha! I like it.”
“Show some respect, Aretha,” Sunny shot back. They shared a grin, then a laugh.
“So,” Stevie prodded. “Have you decided to sell your share? What about your new baby sister? You said you thought about inviting her to come visit you. I think that sounds like a good plan. I can see why you wouldn’t want the hassle of that place, or to get tied down again in any way, but if you invited Bailey here, then she can become part of your world. Doesn’t mean you have to do the same in return. I bet she’d love to see your place, visit here, or at least tour the conservatory.”
Sunny smiled to herself as Stevie chattered away. She knew she’d be in for an earful when she told Stevie about her inheritance, and the basics about the convoluted family tree, but that was precisely why’d she’d told her about it. Sunny had never been good about talking things through out loud. Her mama had done enough talking for both of them, and it wasn’t as if Sunny could talk to her own mother about the conflicts she felt because Daisy Rose was at the heart of them. Yet, at the same time, Sunny fiercely protected her mother, so talking about her to someone else seemed like a sort of betrayal. Stevie, on the other hand, had none of those reservations. Quite the opposite. So Sunny let her good friend talk through things for her.
“I don’t know,” Sunny finally said at length. “I’ve been thinking about maybe giving my share to Bailey.”
Stevie paused, leaf in hand, and looked at Sunny. “That would give her a full third of the place, right?”
Sunny nodded. “I think of the three of us, she’s the one who could use whatever boost life could hand her. I don’t know if owning a bigger share of our inheritance will be a boon or the proverbial albatross, but Sawyer seemed optimistic about where he thought the renovations would take them, and it’s a pretty cool plan, really. So that would surely up the value of her share.”
“Don’t you worry that giving her more of a share would be too tempting for Abbey Road?”
“Addie Pearl. And what do you mean?”
“Given what I know so far, Addie and Sawyer are tight. Like, mom and son tight, to hear you tell it. So, putting her in charge of an even bigger share of the place just seems”—she shrugged—“risky.”
“I’ve thought about that, too,” Sunny admitted.
“Of course, if you hold on to your piece, then you still get a say. Which means you can watch out for how Bailey’s piece is being managed,” Stevie said.
“You’re right,” Sunny agreed, having had the same thought herself. “It’s just . . .” Now she lifted a shoulder.
“Spill it,” Stevie demanded, then motioned with her fingers.
Sunny smiled, thankful again for their friendship, even if Stevie wasn’t exactly the tea and sympathy sort. Maybe because of that. “Holding on to my share, even if I’m playing more of a monitoring or advisory role, still means staying involved with all of them.”
Stevie propped her hands on her hips. “Well, they’re your family now whether you want to stay involved directly or not.”
“A family I’d never even heard of until two weeks ago. None of us had heard about each other until then. We were doing fine without each other this long.”
Stevie clapped her gloved hands several times. “See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it? Let it out, sister. Tell me and these plants here how you really feel.”
Sunny did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at her friend, making them both laugh.
“You know, maybe it’s not that complicated,” Stevie said, going back to work as she talked. “Maybe Addie will do right by the little girl like she promised she’d do. From the sounds of it, Sawyer turned out to be a good guy and she took care of him when he was little.” She leaned around the tree she was examining and wiggled her eyebrows. “Damn shame he’s related though, from the sounds of him.” She smoothed her neatly pinned-up hair. “Maybe you could hook this sister up, though.”
Sunny just rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she continued her own work.
“So maybe you’re right and there is nothing to worry about,” Stevie went on. “They carry on, and you don’t need to do more than check in from time to time. If Addie is cool and Sawyer is sticking around, then it seems like Bailey’s life is already way better.”
Teasing aside, Sunny really listened to what Stevie was saying. “You’re right. It doesn’t have to be complicated.” But it already felt complicated. Sunny hadn’t even had the time to really get used to being free. To finally being able to put her needs, her wants, first. Heck, she didn’t even know what those wants and needs were yet.
“Don’t do anything rash. This all just happened. Sit back awhile and take it as it comes,” Stevie advised. “You have your share. They’re not coming after you to invest in the renovation, or anything. So, let them have at it, and go about your business. If things change, then you have the right to change your course of action.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks,” Sunny said. She looked at her best friend, smiled. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me feel a lot more confident in that choice. I think you’re exactly right. Thank you.” She let out a slow breath, and a good deal more stress than even she realized she’d been carrying felt like it was being released from her along with it. No immediate action was due on her part. She could just go on living her life. Her free-to-be-me life.
She laughed, feeling almost a little light-headed as the revelation sank in and took hold. “Nothing has changed, really. Unless I want it to.”
Stevie started humming “Let It Go” from the Disney epic Frozen, making Sunny snicker. There was no one else in their sector, so Stevie picked up a trowel and used it as a mic, as she went full on Idina Menzel and began to sing the iconic song in earnest. She actually had a pretty good voice—great, even—though Sunny thought better of saying as much to Stevie Aretha, or she’d never hear the end of it. Literally.
Instead, the normally far less demonstrative Sunny, who was a horrible singer, for once in her life really did let it go and added a little performance art as backup. She picked up a spare apron and swirled it over her head as she spun around Stevie, using exaggerated arm movements to match the refrain.
She was just swooping in front of Stevie as she hit a piercing high note when someone cleared his throat behind them both.
Stevie broke off mid “go” and both she and Sunny swung around in surprise, then stood, well, frozen to the spot.
Sunny found her voice first. “Sawyer?”
“Do they teach you that in horticulture school?” he asked, an amused smile on his handsome face. He cast his gaze around the interior of the greenhouse. “I have to say, it appears to be working.”
“You should see how they respond to Motown Week,” Stevie quipped, then turned to Sunny so Sawyer couldn’t see her face. She let her mouth drop open and shook her hand in front of her as if to say, “Whew!” while mouthing Oh my God!
“What—what are you doing here?” Sunny asked him, not risking looking at Stevie a moment longer. She didn’t need to be told how drop-dead gorgeous Sawyer was. Apparently, two weeks of thinking about him as her brother hadn’t done one lick of good. Then the plastic panels that separated their section of the greenhouse from the rest parted and another head poked through. “Bailey?”
At Bailey’s glance upward, Sunny realized she was still holding the apron aloft. She pulled her hand down, and balled the apron up in front of her, pasting a big smile on her face as her brain scrambled to catch up with the rest of her. “Hey! What a surprise.” She started to fold her arms, forgot the bundled-up apron, then comically tried to figure out what to do with her hands, finally plopping the apron down on a worktable and propping one on her hip and using the other to smooth back the strands of hair that had escaped the single braid she wore when at work. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Nice Elsa,” Bailey said to Stevie as she stepped fully into the space.
“I’m here all week,” Stevie said, then did a deep curtsy, complete with theatrical head drop. “Matinee’s on Sunday.”
Bailey and Sawyer both grinned at that, but then were nudged out of the way when the plastic panels rustled again behind them.
“Looks like I missed the show,” Addie Pearl said as she fought her way through the moving panels with her cane. Sawyer held them aside so she could make her way into the hot and humid temperature-controlled space. She took a sweeping look around and beamed. “Well, isn’t this something. Can’t wait to hear all about it.” She looked at a now madly grinning Stevie, who appeared downright tickled pink at this latest turn of events and gave her a big, welcoming smile. “I’m Addie Pearl Whitaker. This here is Bailey, and that’s Sawyer. We’re Sunny’s family. Pleased to meet you.”