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“Ugh!” Yoko blurted. She grabbed a napkin and removed the excess from her nostrils. Izzie was doubled over laughing. Once she regrouped, Yoko announced, “You can add, ‘sitting six feet away from someone who is eating a cone.’ ”
Izzie looked at Yoko’s face. She still had a mustache of dairy and sprinkles hanging above her lip. Izzie went into a tailspin of hysterics while Yoko continued to clean up her mess. Yoko sneered as she dabbed her face with the balled-up, used napkin. “Yes, there should be an ‘eat your ice cream alone’ rule.”
Izzie jumped up and dashed back into the shop, grabbed a bottle of water and a few more napkins. She plunked down several one-dollar bills. “My friend doesn’t know how to use a cone,” she joked.
Ruby, the owner, smiled. “If you say so.” She gave a wink and gestured toward the front window, where she’d had a bird’s-eye view of the incident. While Izzie and Yoko weren’t regulars, everyone knew each other in the village green area.
Izzie returned to a sticky Yoko and offered her the cleanup items. As Yoko removed the last of the red and yellow sprinkles, Izzie marched back into the shop and bought another cone for Yoko. “Make it a double.” Izzie leaned on the counter and peered over the edge. “Got any towels back there?” she asked jokingly.
Ruby handed her a stack of paper towels. “This should do it.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If not, I can’t help ya gals.” She snickered as Izzie took the cone and carefully returned to her ice-creamed friend.
Izzie held out the cone with one hand and a pile of napkins in the other. “Sorry, Choco-Yoko.”
“Funny. Ha. Ha.” Yoko swapped the soiled, ice-cream-laden napkins for the clean paper towels and grabbed the cone from Izzie’s fist. “You may have redeemed yourself.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, concentrating on their cones, before Izzie spoke. “Depending on who Zoe can recommend, we may need to adjust our budget,” she said contemplatively.
“And our profit,” Yoko added between licks.
“As long as we don’t lose money we should be alright. We have about twenty thousand in reserve, although I’d hate to have to dip into that.”
“Agreed.” Yoko took another wipe at her chin.
“Well, let’s not worry about it until we must worry about it. Remember what Annie always says: ‘Worry is like paying a debt you don’t owe.’ ”
Yoko gave her a sideways look. “I agree with that concept. Wait until it becomes a problem and then put energy into solving the problem.”
“Bingo!” Izzie resisted the temptation to poke Yoko again. One ice cream mess was enough for the day.
When they had finished their treats, they strolled back to Izzie’s office. “Let’s check out your samples.” Izzie looked at the long, white box Yoko had carried in earlier.
Yoko pointed to some of the more unusual plants. “We can do Achillea millefolium, also known as white yarrow, for the summer. It has clusters of creamy white flowers. I’ll leave room for some exotic annuals.” She pulled the sketches of the gardens from her messenger bag. “This will have hydrangeas and boxwood. Then in this corner we’ll do a winter mixture of purple moon grass and euonymus.” Yoko’s passion for plants came through like a giant beam of light. “Then we’ll put these in the shaded area,” she said, tapping on the photos of the hostas, hellebore, Epimedium and spiderwort. “Together, these varieties should create a tapestry of green.”
“Yoko, I think you have outdone yourself. It is going to be magnificent.”
Yoko bowed in gratitude. “I want people to really look at the plantings as something artful. Not just a bunch of bushes and flowers.”
“I think you have that mastered.” Izzie gave her a fist bump. High fives had been the “Sister Salute,” but after COVID they’d adopted the fist bump as their new gesture of appreciation and accomplishment. “Floral and landscaping design is an art form for sure.”
“That reminds me—do you remember Myra’s friend Camille Pierce? From New York?” Yoko asked.
“Vaguely. Involved in the arts? Married to a banker?”
“Yes. Myra told me that Camille introduced her to a woman outside of Ashville, North Carolina. Ellie Stillwell. Ellie built an art center and had the interior and exterior landscaped by a local artist, and it’s gone on to win awards.”
“I heard about that place. Sounded remarkably interesting.”
“Yes. Made me think about expanding my business.” Yoko looked at Izzie. “After our project, of course.”
“Well, if we can get this masonry issue sorted and we accomplish what we have in mind, you will be in high demand. That much I am certain of.”
“I feel as if I need to stretch myself a bit. Don’t get me wrong. Our business is doing very well. But I think I would like to create more spaces with the plants that I grow,” Yoko said thoughtfully. “I nurture them while they grow, and then I sell them. Once they leave the nursery, I have no control over what happens to them.”
Izzie chuckled. “Aw, you sound like a mommy whose kids are all grown up and are leaving home.”
“Well, it’s not that different.” Yoko pouted.
“I know. I know. They are your babies. I get it.” Izzie winked. “But I also think you have a very good idea.”
