California Homecoming by Casey Dawes

sternly. “I told you during your last visit to reduce the amount of stretching you were doing — and no heavy lifting. Nap when you’re tired. Are you following my instructions?”
    “Yes. Well. Mostly.”
    “‘Mostly’ isn’t going to do it. I want you off your feet at least two hours a day. If that helps with your blood pressure, then we’ll be okay. But I’m warning you,” Hadiya grasped her other arm, “you must be careful. With your mother’s history, there’s a chance you’ll have trouble carrying. We want to minimize that.”
    Sarah nodded. Two hours a day. It’d be tough, but it would be better than complete bed rest. “Okay.”
    • • •
    When Sarah returned to the inn, the sun was glistening on the overgrown vegetation in the front yard. After getting out of her car, she walked over to the former garden and tried to see the bare bones of the garden. Three iron benches struggled against overactive vines.
    She needed help to resurrect the space before Annie’s wedding, especially after the doctor’s new restrictions.
    Sighing, she slung her grocery bag over her shoulder and went into the house. She was getting tired of frozen dinners, no matter how indulgent they were. Hadiya had chided her gently about weight gain.
    Tonight she was attempting her college staple: tuna casserole. Still not good for the weight, but at least she knew what was in it — canned fish, canned peas, and canned cream of mushroom soup.
    Well, maybe she didn’t really know what was in it.
    She grinned at Daisy, who eagerly raced past her into the yard, did her business, and scurried toward the house before becoming distracted by a squirrel. After she satisfactorily treed the chattering rodent, Daisy trotted back to Sarah, head lifted high.
    Sarah laughed, patted her dog and went inside.
    She’d finished putting away the groceries when the doorbell rang. Dread clutched her heart. Had Rick returned so soon?
    No, he wasn’t due until Saturday.
    She opened the door to a raw-boned woman with a no-nonsense braid of gray hair.
    “I’m told you need a gardener,” she said. “I can see from the looks of it that it’s true.”
    “Um … who are you, exactly?” Daisy stood by Sarah’s side, alert, but not unfriendly.
    “Gertrude. Unfortunate name, I know. My mother saddled me with it. I think she was reading
The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas
when she was pregnant.” She shifted on her feet. “Well, are you looking or not?”
    “I … uh … ” Oh, hell. This must be Paul’s mother. And she did need someone to spruce up the place, if it wasn’t too expensive. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk about it?”
    “No, thanks. I like being outdoors. You really want to know how much I charge.” Gertrude named a figure that was ridiculously low.
    “Why so little?” Sarah was wary. She didn’t know the woman at all.
    A thought flashed through her mind. She was opening an inn, inviting lots of people she didn’t know into her home. With her newborn.
    Suddenly, the absence of a man in her life didn’t seem quite as smart.
    Gertrude shrugged. “I like the work.”
    The woman didn’t appear to be an ax murderer, and she would stay outside. Sarah should be safe. “When could you start?”
    Gertrude looked at the sky. “How does today sound?”
    “What can you do in the middle of winter?”
    “Let me show you.” Gertrude walked over to the garden Sarah had been examining earlier, Sarah trailing behind. “Winter can be the best time to clear vines and prune bushes.”
    “Oh, yes. My mother’s boyfriend is pruning his vines now.”
    Gertrude nodded. “I’d cut back the ivy and prune the rose bushes. This garden has good bones.” She eyed Sarah. “Like you. You’re going to need to be strong for the baby and you have the spirit to do it.”
    A chill washed over Sarah. Paul’s mother was definitely strange.
    Gertrude laughed. “It’s not magic. Paul told me. I’m not sure how he found out. Costanoa