Page 6 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid (Sweet Treat Novellas #1)

M att knocked on Barney’s door, trying to convince himself this was actually happening. Abby Grover, who’d blown him off more times than he could count, and who, until that afternoon on the football pitch, had seemed more or less unapproachable, was with him at his apartment building.

And she was smiling. And talking to him.

The door opened. Barney’s thick white eyebrows pulled in a look of curiosity.

“This is Abby Grover,” Matt said. “She’s something of a plant expert, and I told her about your tomatoes.”

To his credit, Barney didn’t give any indication the two of them had spent a few evenings talking about Abby. “Did you also tell her that the spots weren’t my fault?”

Abby spoke before Matt could. “In my experience, tomato spots are seldom the gardener’s fault.”

“That’s the truth.” Barney emphasized the declaration with a quick nod of his head. “If you can save these stubborn plants, you’ll be an expert in my book.”

Abby’s smile was sincere— not the fake, patronizing smile too many people gave the elderly. Everything about her felt that way— honest, real.

They passed through Barney’s flat, past furniture he’d probably had for as long as Matt and Abby had been alive.

Matt had only been inside Barney’s place a couple times, but it was always neat and tidy.

Barney was that way with his garden as well.

The spots on his plants probably bothered him most because it wasn’t up to his standards.

“I put the plants over here that have the problem,” Barney said as they reached the balcony. “I didn’t want them too close to the others, just in case it’s insects.”

Abby knelt in front of the plants, looking closely at them. “You were smart to move them. I think it is insects.” She carefully turned over one of the leaves, eying the underside. She looked up at Barney. “Do you have a sheet of paper and some kind of magnifying lens?”

Barney nodded eagerly. “I have a lens for reading the morning paper.”

“Perfect.”

He made his way back inside.

Matt sat on the ground next to her. “What do you need the paper for?”

“I’m going to write the bugs a letter, asking them nicely to leave Barney’s plants alone.”

She spoke so seriously, without even the smallest twitch to her lips. For just a moment Matt didn’t realize she was joking. Then her smile spread. She had a great smile.

“That’s how professionals deal with insects?” He let his amusement and doubt show.

“Insects are very polite. They wouldn’t ever, you know, talk smack at a soccer match or anything like that.”

He chuckled. “You had a few choice things to say as well.”

Her smile grew to a grin. “Mostly because we were far better than the rest of them.”

“We were, weren’t we?” He hadn’t had that much fun playing football in a very long time. “We play almost every Sunday. You should come.”

The smallest show of a blush touched the skin behind her freckles. “Maybe I will.”

I hope so.

“And thanks, again, for doing this for Barney. He doesn’t get out much anymore, and these plants are his life, just about.”

Her gaze went to the sliding door and the living room beyond. “Does he have any family?”

“His wife died a few years ago, and his children all live out of state. He and I sort of adopted each other— I don’t have any family here either.”

She looked back at him again. “That’s really sweet.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say. The softness in her brown eyes made it impossible to think at all.

Barney rejoined them, handing Abby the paper and magnifying lens. She shook a leaf over the paper then studied the tiny specks that landed on it with the lens. The specks moved.

“Spider mites.” She folded the paper over the bugs, pressing it tightly. “Do any of your other plants seem infested?”

She and Barney spent the next half hour meticulously going through his entire balcony garden. Matt didn’t know enough to offer any insights, but he thought he did a good job following directions and retrieving the things they asked for.

After checking the last of Barney’s plants, Abby broke the bad news. “The mites probably arrived on one of your plants, but there are signs of them on all of them now.”

Barney dropped onto his stool, looking frustrated and tired. “Am I going to lose the whole garden?”

Abby immediately and emphatically shook her head. “We got this, Barney. We totally got this.”

“You can save the plants?”

“I won’t give up on them if you don’t,” Abby promised.

A look of relief crossed Barney’s face. That garden really did mean everything to him.

The plants were almost like family. Somehow, after only knowing him for a few moments, Abby had figured that out.

She smiled at the old man. If Matt hadn’t been half gone on her already, that single moment would have done it.

“I have something at home that will help a lot with the mites.” Abby stood, wiping soil and bits of crumpled leaves from her hands. “Let me run back to my place and shower—I’ve spent the afternoon showing a bunch of boys how to play soccer—and I’ll be back in, say, an hour. Does that work?”

Barney took one of her hands in both of his. “This is very kind of you, Abby.”

“I have loved plants since I was six years old,” she said. “I would never let a garden as beautiful as this one get eaten by mites. Not ever.”

“Will you let me treat you to dinner when you get back? You and Matt both?”

She glanced Matt’s direction. He could see the question in her eyes, so he nodded. Turning Barney down would hurt his feelings.

“That is a deal,” Abby said.

Matt walked her to the door. “I’ll see you in an hour, then, I guess.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

He watched her disappear down the corridor. Barney came and stood next to him.

“Did you know that I met my wife at a nursery?” Barney said. “She loved to garden. Loved it. I’d never grown a plant in all my life.”

“Then why were you at a nursery?”

“I was buying a potted plant for my mother for Mother’s Day.” Barney’s expression grew wistful.

“Francis convinced me to buy a fuchsia instead of an iris. And over the next forty years, she taught me everything she knew about plants.”

Matt set a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I wish I could have known your wife. She sounds remarkable.”

“She was.” Barney looked up at him, an earnestness in his expression. “When a man meets a remarkable woman, he doesn’t let her slip away.”

Matt knew what Barney was getting at. “Abby’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

Barney nodded. “Hold on to that one.”

“I’ll do my best.” But would his best be enough?