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“But speaking of people being selfish...are you selling the nursery?” Ruthie asked. “I need to know if I have to go to work tomorrow.”
“You have to go to work tomorrow,” Erick said.
“Shush, drone. Your part in the cycle of life is done. Clover?”
“You have to go to work tomorrow,” Clover said. “Even if I do sell the nursery, ownership won’t transfer for several months.”
“If? So you haven’t decided yet?” Ruthie asked.
“Nope.”
“Good. I have to tell you something. This might sway you.”
Clover heard Ruthie digging through her backpack.
“Here.” Ruthie thrust a pile of papers into the front seat.
“What’s this?” Clover asked as she flipped through the pages.
“Evan and his friends were driving me crazy yesterday. I had to get out of the house or I would have murdered them all, literally. So I went to the library and researched PNW Garden Supply. Turns out they were cited repeatedly for discharging pollutants at their wholesale nursery in Vancouver a few years ago.”
“What? Why am I just hearing about this?” Clover asked as she riffled through the pages.
“They sold that nursery two years and two months ago, and they only had to disclose the past two years of business records. I’m guessing they want to buy Clover’s Greenery and use that name to cover up their past environmental violations. It’s not your fault you didn’t find it. It wasn’t in any of the paperwork they sent us.”
“How did you find this stuff?”
“I have connections,” she said with a smug smile.
“Are these the same connections that talked you into torching a factory farm?” Erick demanded. “The same connections you’re forbidden from having any contact with?”
“Yeah, well, that’s why I went to the public library to talk to them. Public computers. No record of our little chitchat,” Ruthie said.
“My daughter is Edward Snowden. This is terrifying,” Erick said.
“If I’m anyone I’m Mata Hari,” Ruthie corrected. “And I was only doing it to help Clover. If you do sell to them, I’d make sure you have a long talk with the company about their environmental record and get some stuff in writing.”
Clover took a deep breath.
“Wow. Guess I’m keeping the business,” she said.
“You sure?” Erick asked.
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t want my name attached to a company that can’t clean up after itself. The Mount Hood location is on the edge of the Sandy River. The Portland location is a stone’s throw from the Willamette. I’d never forgive myself if ammonia from the fertilizer or something worse got into the watershed.”
“You feel okay about this?” Erick asked.
“Better actually,” Clover said. “I hated not knowing what to do. And we’re making good money. Not ‘five million dollars’ good but good enough to stay in business and keep the bills paid.”
“Do you feel ‘hire an assistant manager’ good?” Ruthie asked. “Now that you and Pops are together, you should probably c
ut back on the eighty-hour workweeks. Even if you weren’t together, you should probably cut back on the eighty-hour workweeks. Just saying.”
“Don’t nag Clover,” Erick said. “It’s her business. Her decisions.”
“Oh, my Goddess, you have learned something from me,” Ruthie said. “I’m so proud of you, Pops. You can teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Thank you?” Erick said. “I think?”
