“I just had a feeling,” I say, because it’s the truth. I couldn’t explain it any better if I tried. The scent of the lilies slowly recedes, like a tide going back to sea. I peer up at Louis.
“Louis,” I say. “Do you have a phone?”
His brow creases. “A cell phone? No. My granddaughter keeps telling me to get one. I have a phone in my apartment, of course. Do you need to call someone?”
I shake my head. I pull out my phone and show him how to take photographs with it. “This isn’t anywhere near as great as a real camera,” I tell him. “But it’s a start. Do you want to walk around with it for a bit? I’ll be right here all afternoon. You can come find me and return it when you’re done.”
For a few moments, he stares at the phone that I’ve placed in his large hand. Then he looks down at me and smiles shyly. “You know what? Why not? I think I’ll give it a try. Thank you.”
“Just promise me one thing,” I call to him as he walks away. “No walking and snapping photos, please! One or the other. Stop your feet before you lift up the camera.”
He chuckles softly and waves a giant hand over his shoulder. “No walking and snapping,” he calls back to me. “I promise!”
As I walk up the steps to the terrace at the end of the day, I’m still glowing from seeing the bashful pride in Louis’s face when he returned my phone to me and showed me the beautiful photographs he’d taken—photographs of quiet corners in the gardens, flowers spilling over paths, streams of light falling like ribbons through the lemon trees. To my surprise, when I reach the terrace, I find Jill sitting alone at one of the tables. She’s wearing large black sunglasses that cover much of her face, but even so I can tell that she is lost in thought and doesn’t notice me. I’m debating whether or not to interrupt her to thank her for having the tables moved outside when Gully makes my decision for me and heads unhesitatingly straight for her.
Her face breaks into a smile at the sight of him, but when she pushes her sunglasses up into her hair, I’m startled to see that her eyes are red-rimmed. Has she been crying?
“Gully,” she says, taking his big face in her hands and looking deep into his eyes, “have you been a good boy today? Of course you have. What a silly question.”
Gully’s entire body shimmies in response. Jill looks over at me and nods. When her smile doesn’t entirely disappear at the sight of me, I walk toward her.
“The tables are wonderful,” I say, then hesitate. “I was worried that Donovan was going to insist you have that door lock fixed.”
With a quick motion, Jill lowers her sunglasses back down over her eyes and turns her face toward the view. “He did insist,” she says flatly. “Many, many times.”
“Oh.” I put my hands on the back of the chair across from hers and squeeze the wrought iron. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t listen to him. The residents have really been enjoying the gardens.”
“I’m aware of that,” Jill says coolly. “I’m aware of everything that happens here. That’s my job. I know that Marjorie and Cynthia walk outside every day, and took their lunch out here on the terrace today. I know that Fitz has been emerging from his apartment and visiting your dog—oryou. Both of you, I suppose. I know that Vikram and Adele have been baking a ridiculous amount of pastries and desserts, thanks to some sort of epiphany they had among the flowers withyou. And I know that just this afternoon, Louis wandered the grounds for several unaccompanied hours, taking photographs outside withyourcell phone.” She turns at last to face me, her expression unreadable. “And all of this, despite the fact that I specifically asked you not to interact with the residents.”
I open my mouth to respond and then close it again. I can’t tell how she feels about any of this—is she upset? Happy? No, she’s definitely not happy. But I don’t think she’s upset, either. Her face behind those huge dark glasses seems impassive.
“I think spending time outside has been good for them,” I say carefully.
She studies me for a moment before responding. “Donovan is concerned about their safety. The gardens are a liability.”
“But he’s having me restore them! What did he expect to happen when the paths became clear for walking again?”
One of Jill’s perfect eyebrows arches over the rim of her glasses. “What did he expect? Well, for one thing, he expected that I would have asked Vince to fix that lock by now so that the residents wouldn’t be able to walk outside whenever they wanted.”
“But you haven’t. And now you’ve moved tables and chairs out here to make it even more inviting.”
I still can’t see Jill’s eyes, but I swear I see a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She turns away from me and looks out at the horizon. Eventually she sighs and says, “You might as well sit down.”
So I do. I sit and pet Gully until he grows tired of standing and stretches out on the terrace by my feet.
“It’s nice that you care so much about the people who live here,” Jill says slowly, as though it pains her to say it. “And the flowers are looking beautiful.” She turns to me. “I think—I think I won’t discourage you from interacting with the residents anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, surprised. We sit in silence for a moment. Then I ask the question that I realize has been flickering within my thoughts for days. “Once my contract is up,” I ask, “is there a plan to hire a permanent gardener?”
Jill’s face falls. She turns to face the view again and murmurs, “I can’t say.”
I squint at her. “You can’t say?”
“I can’t say.”
“Well, okay, butsomeoneis going to need to take care of the gardens. It wouldn’t make any sense for Donovan to let them growwild again as soon as I leave. He must intend to hire someone for the job.”
Jill sighs. “Let me guess, Lucy. You’d like it to be you.”
