The Holiday Trap Read Online Roan Parrish

Categories Genre: GLBT, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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Now she was in the garden by herself, sun hat on against the summer heat, earbuds in so she could listen to ShadowCast. She’d begun growing lavender six months ago, and while it had been slow to start, once she’d figured out the perfect mix of soil for it, it grew in bushy swathes that scented the air sweetly and provided a feast for Veronica’s nearby bees.

It had begun with lavender because Helen and Veronica needed an inexpensive source for it to use in their lemonade.

Now, Greta was growing mint, sage, tarragon, and other herbs for their infusions as well as the edible flowers they decorated them with. In Maine, she’d often saved seeds from her fruit to sprout in the hopes of growing fruit trees, but they’d never lasted more than a few months. Here, Greta had sprouted lemon seeds and pineapple tops that were on their way to becoming trees that would produce fruit they could eventually use.

And while Greta had volunteered to grow herbs for Veronica and Helen with no expectations, given that she hung around the house all the time, she’d contributed so many ideas for their burgeoning business that as of two months ago, they’d invited her to join them in making it a reality.

In just one week, they were launching Lagniappe Lemonade, a line of locally sourced, locally crafted beverages, bottled in New Orleans, for sale by subscription. Helen and Veronica had used the profit they made selling their Mardi Gras king cakes for the start-up costs.

Greta piled armfuls of lavender and mint into her harvesting basket to take to Eleventh House. She was in charge of making the bundles of fragrant herbs that were to be their business cards for the launch, and Carys had offered to help, so Greta wanted to make it a date night.

Carys had taught the first summer session because she needed the money, but she was on vacation as of the week before, so Greta was thrilled to be able to spend more time with her.

The first month of Greta’s permanent relocation had been hard. Carys was busy and independent and had a large circle of friends. It was one of the things Greta admired so much about her. But it also took some getting used to on Greta’s part. Even though her own family’s hyperinvolvement with one another’s every move had felt intrusive, it was what Greta was used to. And learning how to be mutually independent was something she was still working on.

Her involvement with Lagniappe Lemonade had helped a lot. Having a purpose made her feel like she belonged in New Orleans, and a collaborative business with two of your closest friends—which was what Helen and Veronica had quickly become—was a dream come true.

She had also begun a new internship, working with students on learning how to grow food. It had begun as a few workshops she taught at Tana’s school with the monetary support of Muriel and the Garden Gang. When the students responded well and they got requests from other schools to run the workshops there, the Garden Gang set up a fund to provide regular workshops for ten local schools at no cost, and they’d reached out to three people to run them—two local farmers and Greta.

She’d demurred. She was a new transplant to the city and wasn’t knowledgeable about its history, its politics, its inner workings. She was white while the students they’d be working with were majority Black. And her experience was more in house plants than in urban gardening. The opportunity should go to someone else.

The Garden Gang had respected her decision and hired someone else. But Muriel had suggested that she attend the workshops with the other three people they’d hired. That way, if they got the chance to expand the program, she would be in a better position to offer something to students at other schools.

Greta was thrilled she’d taken Muriel up on this idea. She’d already learned so much and was excited at the opportunity to someday pass that knowledge on.

And for the time being, she was working at the very coffee shop where she had first taken Horse all those months ago. A number of her coworkers were lovely, so she’d made new friends, and it still left her plenty of time to work on Lagniappe Lemonade.

By the time Carys got home from Jackson Square, Greta had turned the living room into a lavender-scented oasis. She’d bumped up the AC (nothing could have prepared her for the incessant heat of a New Orleans summer—although the daily tropical downpours were convenient, since they meant she rarely had to water her garden plot). She’d created an assembly line for putting together the bouquets. And most importantly, she’d made them an epic cheese plate for sustenance.

“Hey, baby,” Carys said when she walked in. She threw her arms around Greta’s neck and kissed her. “Wow, it looks awesome in here.”


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