Page 4 of Finding Basil (Foggy Basin Season Two)

Besides, he didn’t feel like doing a damn thing after that plumbing fiasco. He could call Cordelia and bitch, but she’d likely tell him to read the appraisal. The house suddenly felt like it hated him. It had waited for him to unleash all the problems a hundred years of being a home could have.

Then he thought about it and set the tumbler down on the clunky wooden coffee table and headed out the back door, staring at the land all around him.

It was his. The fields and the greenhouse, it was all his. It would take work too, but planting, watering, watching things grow, it appealed to him.

In his previous job, he destroyed things.

He helped to tear apart businesses, helped to fire people.

His job was using propaganda to make people think it was a good thing what his company was doing.

He’d send out emails and make boards to show how great the company was for the country and the world.

How they were saving money, they were helping build stronger companies to be able to compete on the world market.

It was all bullshit. The only thing it was good for was to make the investors rich.

But digging in the soil, planting seeds, watching them grow, that was life.

That was something good and real. Food was important, and herbs, well, were good.

In fact, they were the best part of food, if anyone would ask him.

A nice dill sauce over a poached salmon, or a pesto using the best basil or mint.

His mouth watered thinking of it.

Walking around the field, he saw how dark the soil was, the irrigation pipes, and a small shed with a mechanical device. Once he crouched and looked it over, he discovered it was a water pump. “For the irrigation, I presume. I also presume I do not know what the hell I’m doing.”

His cell went off, and he left the shed to take the call. “Hello.”

“It’s Cordelia Meadows, Mr. Buffet.”

“I have a feeling we’re going to become good friends or serious enemies, so please, call me Herb.”

“Well, hopefully it’s the former, Herb. I have a date and time for the porch fix. Is tomorrow at nine, okay?”

“Yes. Fine. The sooner the better.”

“He said he can replace the entire porch, which is likely what it will need, but he can’t give an estimate until he sees it.”

“Of course,” he said with a dry laugh.

“Listen, it’s an old house. The contract specifically listed as is. I’m sorry, though. I know this is all a lot.”

Buyer’s remorse was growing. “Listen, you can make up for it if you help with something else. I need someone to teach me how to…farm.”

“Oh, wow. Um…that isn’t as easily found. Let me ask around, and I’ll get back to you on that.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call.”

He spent the evening drinking and looking at videos on how to start a small farm. After the tenth one, he was pretty discouraged about it, knowing he would put in more time and energy than he’d planned.

Instead of watching the sun rise every morning, he’d be in the fields. Instead of taking a break from things, he’d be physically working harder than he ever had. Not that he was opposed to hard work, but the whole point of the small town was a slower pace and the time to enjoy life more.

Still, it would be a waste to let those fields go. It could be something that could pay for all the problems with the house.

He finished his third Scotch and lay on the ugly couch to sleep. So far, he hadn’t tried the bed upstairs, wondering if he shouldn’t replace that first.

It was just dawn when he was awoken to the pounding on the door. He sat up fast, which led to a nasty pounding of his head. “Fuck.”

After picking up his phone, Herb saw it was five thirty in the morning and wondered who had the death wish to wake someone that early in the day.

He swung the door open angrily, hoping to convey his annoyance at the early caller, but when he saw an old woman standing on the other side of the screen door, his anger calmed. At least for a second or two.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded. “I know everyone in this town, and you ain’t one of ‘em. You squattin’?”

“Squatting? No, I’m not squatting. I bought this property and moved in yesterday.”

She was thin as a skeleton, but her darkly tanned skin looked as tough as shoe leather. Her beady green eyes glared as if she was waiting for him to say one lie she could pounceon and turn him over to the cops.

“Bought it from who?”

“I don’t remember the name. Cordelia Meadows was the broker.”

“Hmph. That one. Well, at least that good for nothing Denny smartened up and sold the place. That boy was more worthless than tits on a boar hog.”

She pushed her way inside the house, and Herb was too shocked to even consider stopping her.

She looked around with her hands on her hips, her flannel shirt and worn jeans baggy on her thin frame.

“He never did get rid o’ that horrid goddamn couch.

I told Martha all her taste was in her mouth the second she found it at that new furniture store.

No wonder the place folded in less than two years. ”

“Miss…who are you?”

“Miss,” she said and then cackled. “I ain’t been a miss since nineteen sixty-seven. That was the year I got married. Fifteen and dumber than a box o’ rocks.”

She thrust her hand to him and said, “I’m Lila Dormer, your neighbor.”

Smiling finally, Herb shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Herb Buffet.”

“Herb Buffet? My word, your parents didn’t like you much, did they?” she asked, then cackled again.

“It’s a family name, Herb. Anyway, um, I was just going to make some coffee. Would you like some?”

“Nah, had mine already. I need to get to work. You ain’t gonna let those fields go to the trees, are ya? Damn shame. That damn grandson of Martha and Eddie, he didn’t know his ass from his elbow. Tried to make a go of it and gave up quick.”

“I…I’m thinking of trying my hand at growing some things. I’m not a farmer, or haven’t been one before, so I’m not sure where to begin.”

“Farming starts with good soil, which ya got, a strong back,” she said, then walked around him.

He was glad he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, as her gaze made him feel naked.

“Looks like ya got that too. After that, a brain in your head and some seed will get ya started, but I’m sure you may have figured out there is a lot more to it than that.

You got the start, though, besides the seeds. ”

“Could you, uh, maybe give me some…help?”

“I got my own place. I don’t have the time, but I know some folks who might be able to give you a few tips.”

After that, Lila headed for the door, opening it as she said, “Did ya know you got a big hole in the porch here?”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“Might wanna get that fixed. Someone’ll break their neck.”

The whirlwind that was the grizzled Lila Dormer was rushing down the driveway to the truck she parked on the road.

He watched until she was gone, then went outside to find the pump.

It was right in the corner of the fenced yard, and he got a tea pitcher full so he could take that into the kitchen and started the water for his coffee.

Laughing as he thought of his neighbor, Herb sat at the round table and stared out the window in the back door. It was nearly the length of it but needed to be cleaned. Still, the scene was beautiful, and that was why he’d moved to the country. Beauty.

In that fast and pushy exchange, Herb had learned the couple who owned the house had died, and their grandson had inherited it. He must have lived there long enough to spark the ire of the neighbor.

He didn’t know much about the place, come to find out, so he made a mental note to ask Cordelia a little more about it. If the grandson of a farmer couldn’t make a go of the place…

Discouraged, he took his coffee once it was made outside and stood on the back deck, staring out at the countryside.

Knowing the fog that was dissipating covered the trees in the distance and wondered how soon they would take over the fields if he let them.

Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing if Herb’s Herbs never came to fruition.

It wasn’t a minute after seven that same morning that another knock came to his front door. He laughed to himself as he headed to it. “These people don’t believe in sleeping in.”

When he opened the door, he actually felt his jaw drop. On his front porch, smiling at him with the sweetest smile Herb believed he’d ever seen, was a beautiful man that made him literally speechless.

“Hi. Mrs. Dormer sent me to help you out, that is, if you’re the owner?”

Herb didn’t think he could make words. The man was so beautiful.

Dark eyes and hair that waved gently around an oval face that was flawless and perfectly sculpted.

A little bump on the bridge of his otherwise perfectly straight nose, a few freckles that were so light, he doubted if most noticed them.

Long dark eyelashes lay over his cheeks as he waited to be addressed, so Herb stumbled over his own tongue to accommodate him. “H-hi, yeah, um…Mrs. Dormer?” He was confused for a second, then it came to him. “Oh! Oh, that lady! My neighbor!”

“Yes, she’s the one. She called me and said a guy just bought this place and needed some help getting it working. I know it’s early, but she insisted I get right over here and help you. So, here I am.”

The goofy smile that he wore couldn’t be helped as he said, “I’ll have to call her and thank her.” He stepped aside and said, “please come in. Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Herb turned to head to the kitchen, then he turned back clumsily, almost tripping on his own feet. “Who…who are you?”

“Oh. My name is Basil. Basil Jimenez.”

Herb’s smile faded as he thought he was being teased. “No, really, what’s your real name?”

As the lightly muscled arm reached back, Basil pulled out his wallet and showed Herb his license. Sure enough, his name was Basil Jimenez. “Wow, this is…a very weird coincidence.”

“Why is that?”

“Didn’t she tell you my name?”

Basil shrugged and blushed a little, the pink on his cheeks endearing. “She, uh, forgot it. Said it was…these are her words, stupid as all get-out.”

He proffered a hand and said, “Well, Basil, my name is Herb.”

Basil laughed, and it was melodic and sweet sounding. “No. Really?”

As they shook hands slowly, Herb said, “Really.”

As Herb turned back around to lead Basil to the kitchen for coffee, Basil asked, “Did you know there was a big hole in your porch?”

He stopped and let his head drop. “Yes. I’m aware.”