Page 24 of Echoes of a Southern Song

Chapter Nine

Jack

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AGGIE AND I SIT AT her table, finishing our breakfast and talking about nothing special.

“You got plans for the day?” Aggie asks.

I smile because I know what that means. She’s got a job for me and I’m happy to do it. “Nope. What can I do?”

She laughs softly. “Am I that predictable?”

I shrug. “Nah, but I’ve been doing nothing the last couple of days. I need to get busy. Want me to paint your house?”

Her face lights up as she starts laughing again. “No, but maybe one day. I was thinking I’d like to put in some flowers. Those old beds need to be cleaned out.”

“I’ll do it,” I tell her.

“You don’t have to do it right away.”

“I’ve got the day,” I tell her. “Jinnie is working.”

“Are you working on new music?”

I shake my head. “No. Nothing is coming to mind right now.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’ll get started.”

“I’m going to the nursery and then the grocery store. Need anything?” she asks.

“Nah. I’m good. Thank you, though.”

We’ve settled into this weird thing. I wouldn’t call it a marriage, but more of an understanding. She’s a little like a mother, but also a friend. I suppose she’s the aunt I never had.

I grab water, my headphones, and stick my phone in my pocket with my playlist on. I head outside and survey the project I’m going to be working. The flowerbeds are overgrown with weeds. The beds stretch around the house with what appears to be an overgrown and half-choked out rose garden surrounded by rocks. My mom loved roses.

I start by pulling out the old, dead stalks and tossing them into a pile while thinking about my mom. She used to recruit me to help in the garden or her flowerbeds. Looking back, I know she did it to save me from barn chores. She had known how much I hated it back then.

I can’t help but think about how different my life might have been if she’d lived. It’s one of those things I think about often. She would be supportive. I know it.

The sun warms my back as I work. It’s satisfying in a way that music isn’t. The tangible progress, something I can see and touch. I like seeing the progress. Watching something ugly be turned into something pretty.

By mid-morning, I’ve cleared most of the beds and started turning the soil. Aggie returns from the nursery with a special treat for me. It’s lemonade, but it’s got strawberries as well. It’s one of my favorites.

“Thank you.” I take a few big drinks.

“You’re a lifesaver, Jack,” she says as she surveys my progress. “Those beds have been an eyesore for years.”

“Happy to help,” I say, taking another long drink. “Is the car loaded?” I ask.

She grins. “I might have gotten carried away. I bought mulch and flowers.”

“Do you mind if I work on those roses?” I ask her.

She looks over at the one area I haven’t gotten to yet. “Oh, honey, I don’t know if there’s any saving those things. They’ve been neglected for years.”