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“Over the next hour, the pair hopped from vendor to vendor, purchasing cuts of grass-fed beef, sampling organic fruits and artisan cheeses, and asking lots of questions. It was fun to introduce Julia to the flavors of specialty items, like locally made honey infused with rosemary and rich, buttery Arizona pecans. Julia was a willing participant, trying anything Ginny pointed out.”

“Things in the kitchen were, thankfully, going according to plan. Ginny's hands moved at a gratifying pace over the stove. She deftly controlled the four burners to simmer sauces with ease. A pair of solid wooden cutting boards were positioned at her elbow, piled with minced garlic, leafy herbs, and fresh root vegetables. A beautiful cut of Angus beef rested on the counter, coming to room temperature and marinating in rich juices. An elevated twist on a white chocolate cheesecake chilled on the packed refrigerator shelf. All in all, she had planned a fabulous meal. This was how Ginny had always envisioned Mesquite running, smooth and well staffed, with happy guests at the table and herself at the helm. If she thought about it hard enough, which she rarely had time to do, Ginny would say this evening was damn near perfection. Feeling sentimental, she allowed herself a pour from the bottle of chilled Oregon pinot noir in the refrigerator. She wiped her fingers clean with a nearby tea towel and watched as the golden evening light filtered through the windows, illuminating the translucent burgundy liquid in her glass. This is how it should be, she thought to herself. Happy customers in the other room, her daughter and her sister all under one roof, and a warm place to call home. She'd be content if she knew it could last.”

“It had rained overnight, a little pitter-patter of drops playing on her window sometime just after midnight. The storm had moved in and washed over the dusty outcroppings of Ginny's property. Everything was left with a dewy sense of renewal. The ground was still damp but oddly warm against Julia's bare toes. A veil of steam floated up from the stone pavers, giving everything a mystical feel. She remembered these kinds of mornings. The recollection comforted her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled. Fresh air filled her lungs. She liked the sweet, organic smell that touched at the back of her throat and hinted of sage. Probably the rains had been responsible for releasing such an ethereal aroma.”

“They had left the buckets of stemmed flowers and now found themselves in the center of the indoor succulent section, an array of miniature plants with whimsical names such as burro's tail and flaming katy. Olive slowed her pace, taking her time perusing metal racks of each variety. She stooped down and plucked a container of a sweet, blossom-shaped plant. "What's that one?" Julia asked. She liked the look of its pink-edged tips, whose color reminded her of a radish. "This guy here is called roseum. It likes the sun, so I'd have to think of a spot near a window. But it's a nice touch of color among all the green. At different times of year, it develops clusters of light-pink star-shaped flowers. I like it because it adds texture next to something like, say, that jade plant, which is more like a stocky little tree. If I place them together, it adds interest." "Wow. That sounds great." Olive brightened. "Thanks. And then, see these here?" She pointed to a miniature plant with chubby, rosette-style leaves. "Yes?" Julia leaned closer and squinted to read the sign. "The one that says 'Sedum Golden Glow'?" "Yes. That one. I'm thinking of getting a few of those guys and placing them on the dining table in these cool little glass-and-gold terrariums I found online. They have delicate little panes of glass set against metal frames that catch your eye, and they're fancy enough for Mom's taste. She's okay if I do rustic, but she always wants a touch of something expensive mixed in. The terrariums do the trick, I think.”

“Regular guests had claimed she'd outdone herself with such creations as her Aberdeen Angus grass-fed rib eye with mushroom puree and beef tea; they'd gushed over her sea bass with prawn tortellini accompanied by fennel and a white wine sauce, and the crowd favorite always received lots of compliments, a chocolate orange mousse with fruit brioche.”

“Ginny had named her supper club after the prominent mesquite tree that shaded the home's picturesque front garden. She adored these deciduous trees---native to Arizona---with their soft, ferny canopies that dotted the desert landscape. The species of velvet mesquite on her property routinely produced fragrant spikes of yellow flowers in April and sometimes again in August after it rained. The blossoms reminded Ginny of random bursts of sunshine. She hoped all who saw them took them as a good omen, just as she had upon discovering the house.”