didn’t mean to offend. Don’t forget, I come from a place where they don’t exactly have woods. If you like living in a forest, well, hey, that’s your choice.”
“These women were twice as opinionated as you. Of course, I was supposed to listen, because they’re experts. But don’t get me wrong: I like them. They just have unbelievable chutzpah. On the plus side, one of them cooked a divinedinner, and they made me sit and put my feet up while they cleaned up.” She grinned. “They didn’t want me to be tired and ugly when we taped the program today.”
“I help clean up, too, Louise, when you invite me to dinner,” he pointed out plaintively.
“I know, John. And I appreciate it.” She gave him an encouraging smile. He was at the top of his form, just where they all wanted him, ready for a good interview with the fish doctor. Marty, however, was much less good-natured. His dark bushy eyebrows were pulled down in a dark valley of a frown. His brown eyes were wary as he watched her approach. He stepped up to her and put a placating hand on her arm. “Louise, honey, I’ve been thinking things over. I even talked to the G.M. yesterday. This program on the environmental bill—we gotta tread carefully. The G.M. doesn’t like the idea of politicizing
Gardening with Nature.”
Damn. Why did Channel Five’s general manager have to get in on this? “But, Marty, the environment is at the very heart of our program—”
“Yeah, I know, you’ve said that before.” He gave her his most sympathetic look. “Louise, you know I love ya, and I love your work. Okay, G.M. be G-damned, I’ll go this far: We’ll get a script from our clever Rachel, one that doesn’t fawn all over the President. If we were to rerun this program later in the year, the G.M. doesn’t want us to look like fools if Fairchild loses and the Congress rolls back all these drastic new proposals they just passed.” He shook an avuncular finger in her face. “That’s the problem, my dear, in a nutshell. And it ain’t gonna go away too easily. It’s all up to what Rachel is able to do.”
“Okay. But if worse comes to worst, could we pull the program?”
His frown deepened. “We’d catch all sorts of flack about that. We don’t have that kind of money to waste.”
She sighed. The pitch of life was growing faster, and it wasn’t even ten A.M. The day had started quietly. Subdued guests sipping black coffee at the antique pine table, nibbling tidbits of sweet buns. With Louise driving Bill’s Camry, the trip to the Hilton also started out quietly, but by the time they reached the Memorial Bridge, the women’s motors had switched on; by the time they reached the hotel, they were revving. Nothing like a big convention to get one excited: seeing old friends and associates from all over the country, taking part in programs, getting up on stage and describing a new plant one has been hybridizing or propagating, “partying down,” as they termed it, at lunch and after the day’s events are over.
She knew one of the places they were partying down tonight was at
her
house. Barbara had prepared tray upon tray of snacks, encased them in plastic wrap, and shoved them in Louise’s refrigerator. Louise had no illusions about a quiet Wednesday evening.
But now she had to tread the long exhibition hall and talk about plants with dozens of different plant exhibitors. She went with the crew for a preliminary walk-through, and stood at the entrance for a moment. The space was enormous, filled with cubicles displaying hundreds of varieties of plants and plant materials, and smelling much better than the normal large hotel space. Earthy, fresh as a spring day.
It only took her five paces inside the hall to fall madly in love. It was a gray stone urn filled with an eye-stopping combination: Heuehera “Pewter Moon,”
Salvia argentea
, blue-flowered Russian sage, and tradescantia, with a pale pink-flowered, scented geranium tucked in the middle.
“These women were twice as opinionated as you. Of course, I was supposed to listen, because they’re experts. But don’t get me wrong: I like them. They just have unbelievable chutzpah. On the plus side, one of them cooked a divinedinner, and they made me sit and put my feet up while they cleaned up.” She grinned. “They didn’t want me to be tired and ugly when we taped the program today.”
“I help clean up, too, Louise, when you invite me to dinner,” he pointed out plaintively.
“I know, John. And I appreciate it.” She gave him an encouraging smile. He was at the top of his form, just where they all wanted him, ready for a good interview with the fish doctor. Marty, however, was much less good-natured. His dark bushy eyebrows were pulled down in a dark valley of a frown. His brown eyes were wary as he watched her approach. He stepped up to her and put a placating hand on her arm. “Louise, honey, I’ve been thinking things over. I even talked to the G.M. yesterday. This program on the environmental bill—we gotta tread carefully. The G.M. doesn’t like the idea of politicizing
Gardening with Nature.”
Damn. Why did Channel Five’s general manager have to get in on this? “But, Marty, the environment is at the very heart of our program—”
“Yeah, I know, you’ve said that before.” He gave her his most sympathetic look. “Louise, you know I love ya, and I love your work. Okay, G.M. be G-damned, I’ll go this far: We’ll get a script from our clever Rachel, one that doesn’t fawn all over the President. If we were to rerun this program later in the year, the G.M. doesn’t want us to look like fools if Fairchild loses and the Congress rolls back all these drastic new proposals they just passed.” He shook an avuncular finger in her face. “That’s the problem, my dear, in a nutshell. And it ain’t gonna go away too easily. It’s all up to what Rachel is able to do.”
“Okay. But if worse comes to worst, could we pull the program?”
His frown deepened. “We’d catch all sorts of flack about that. We don’t have that kind of money to waste.”
She sighed. The pitch of life was growing faster, and it wasn’t even ten A.M. The day had started quietly. Subdued guests sipping black coffee at the antique pine table, nibbling tidbits of sweet buns. With Louise driving Bill’s Camry, the trip to the Hilton also started out quietly, but by the time they reached the Memorial Bridge, the women’s motors had switched on; by the time they reached the hotel, they were revving. Nothing like a big convention to get one excited: seeing old friends and associates from all over the country, taking part in programs, getting up on stage and describing a new plant one has been hybridizing or propagating, “partying down,” as they termed it, at lunch and after the day’s events are over.
She knew one of the places they were partying down tonight was at
her
house. Barbara had prepared tray upon tray of snacks, encased them in plastic wrap, and shoved them in Louise’s refrigerator. Louise had no illusions about a quiet Wednesday evening.
But now she had to tread the long exhibition hall and talk about plants with dozens of different plant exhibitors. She went with the crew for a preliminary walk-through, and stood at the entrance for a moment. The space was enormous, filled with cubicles displaying hundreds of varieties of plants and plant materials, and smelling much better than the normal large hotel space. Earthy, fresh as a spring day.
It only took her five paces inside the hall to fall madly in love. It was a gray stone urn filled with an eye-stopping combination: Heuehera “Pewter Moon,”
Salvia argentea
, blue-flowered Russian sage, and tradescantia, with a pale pink-flowered, scented geranium tucked in the middle.
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