Tilly Silverberg, a young widow, is semi-content with her
quiet life -- all she wants is to raise Isaac, her young
son, and run her gardening business in the woods of North
Carolina. The business is successful even if it demands a
lot of her attention, and she uses this and her care of
Isaac as an excuse to hide from the world, and to escape
the guilt she feels over her beloved husband's death.
And then enters James Nealy. A personable and rather
handsome man, who has retired young from his successful
business as a software developer, James shows up at Tilly's
house intent on convincing Tilly to design a garden
landscape for his new home. A plan that Tilly is definitely
not interested in even addressing.
Although Tilly sells plants, she doesn't design gardens
except for her own pleasure. And she does not want to deal
with clients. But James will not take no for an answer.
You see, James suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder,
and after years of therapy, is determined to face his fears
of dirt, grime and all things filthy and create a beautiful
garden. He immediately is drawn to both Tilly and her
stunning, wild garden, and knows that she must be the one
to create one for him.
But when a sudden family emergency requires Tilly and Isaac
to rush to her beloved childhood home in England to care
for her mother, James is left high and dry. Back home,
Tilly is confronted with her first love, Sebastian, who is
going through a divorce and clearly never stopped loving
Tilly, and she must deal with her old feelings for
Sebastian and her new floundering feelings for James. And
if there wasn't enough stress between caring for her mother
and trying sort out her relationship with Sebastian, Tilly
discovers a lump in her breast and must deal with the
possibility that she might have breast cancer.
In the midst of all of this, James unexpectedly appears at
her childhood home. Their relationship is tenuous at first,
but as they work together to renovate a neglected garden,
their love also blossoms. But would their tender new
feelings survive all the tensions and stress surrounding
them and would James be able to overcome his anxiety to be
there for Tilly when she needs him most?
In her novel, THE UNFINISHED GARDEN, author Barbara
Claypole weaves a gorgeous tapestry of a story that takes
the reader on a winding road of tender romance. Claypole
adds in elements of overcoming huge obstacles, conquering
fears, and realizing self- worth in this tale that makes a
pleasing combination that results in a lovely novel. The
characters here are interesting and realistic and the
settings of the North Carolina forests and the beautiful
English countryside are charming. I highly recommend this
novel for those who enjoy a lovely romance.
James Nealy needs to create a garden
James Nealy is haunted by irrational fears and inescapable
compulsions. A successful software developer, he's thrown
himself into a new goal-to finally conquer the noise in his
mind. And he has a plan. He'll confront his darkest fears
and build something beautiful: a garden. When he meets Tilly
Silverberg, he knows she holds the key...even if she doesn't
think so.
After her husband's death, gardening became Tilly's
livelihood and her salvation. Her thriving North Carolina
business and her young son, Isaac, are the excuses she needs
to hide from the world. So when oddly attractive, incredibly
tenacious James arrives on her doorstep, demanding she take
him on as a client, her answer is a flat no.
When a family emergency lures Tilly back to England, she's
secretly glad. With Isaac in tow, she retreats to her
childhood village, which has always stayed obligingly the
same. Until now. Her best friend is keeping secrets. Her
mother is plotting. Her first love is unexpectedly,
temptingly available. And then James appears on her
doorstep.
Away from home, James and Tilly begin to forge an unlikely
bond, tenuous at first but taking root every day. And as
they work to build a garden together, something begins to
blossom between them-despite all the reasons against it.
Excerpt
Did she miss something? One minute they were talking, the
next James shot up and began weaving toward the hitching
post in the most bizarre manner, like a child playing a game
of don't–step–on–the–cracks. But
that wasn't nearly as weird as him glancing at her and then
turning away before she had time to respond. Embarrassed. He
was embarrassed, which made her want to run after him, arms
wide–open for a big hug. And that might be a little
kooky for both of them, so best not. It was sad, however,
that he had such a low opinion of her. She may be strung out
on her own needs, but the day she became judgmental, someone
should bonk her on the head.
What had he said on the phone about "one of my more
annoying habits"? Was this goofy walk another one? Some kind
of tic, like his twitching hands? Maybe he had a muscular
problem. Okay, so now she was flat–out intrigued.
Tilly pushed up from the rocking chair and followed James
quietly.
"Hey, James." Isaac rushed toward him. "Why're you
walking funny?"
Excellent question, Angel Bug. Wouldn't mind hearing the
answer myself. Tilly stopped and made a big deal out of
scratching a no–see–um bite.
"It's a habit I have, one I can't stop," James said.
"Does that make sense?"
Bingo.
"Sure. My best friend says that when he gets into trouble
at school."
"What habits does your friend have?"
"He jumps up and down. It helps with his sensory
integration. If he bounces out his wiggles—" Isaac
demonstrated, and Tilly smiled "—he feels less buzzy.
Do you feel less buzzy when you walk funny?"
"For a moment. Then I feel worse. More buzzy."
Fascinating. Buzzy sounded more mental than muscular. So
James had some psychological thingy, like sensory
integration, that caused him to act a little doolally? Sweat
trickled down her armpits, but she didn't dare move.
"If it makes you feel worse, why do it?" Isaac said to
James.
The answer slammed into her: he doesn't have a choice.
Man, she knew how that felt, to be stuck going through the
motions, trapped in a life you were never supposed to live.
Behaving as a widow, when every instinct screamed that you
were still a wife.
James took two folded tissues from his pocket, arranged
one and then the other over his hand and bent down to pick
something. "I do it because I have to step on every other
dandelion."
"Why?"
"My brain tells me I have to." James handed Isaac the
flower.
"Can't you tell your brain you don't want to?" Isaac
chewed on the inside of his cheek, the same way he did when
working through an advanced math problem.
James tossed back his hair, twice, and laughed. Some
women would likely find him attractive. Rowena would label
him a sexy beast. The stunning eyes helped, the kilowatt
grin, that deep, warm laugh. But it was also the way he
spoke— carefully, as if he'd given life a great deal
of thought. Or maybe, like Tilly, he'd seen too much of it.
"Do you ever get hiccups?" James asked Isaac.
Isaac rolled his eyes. "Allllll the time. Especially
after eating little carrots. Yum."
"Yum indeed. Little carrots are my favorite snack.
Fortunately they don't give me hiccups, which is good,
because I get terrible hiccups. But mine are silent. No one
can hear them except me." James paused, and Isaac nodded.
James still hadn't hinted that he was aware of Tilly, but
she sensed he was talking to her, too. "You see, I have a
hiccup in my brain. My brain hiccups out the same thought,
again and again. Let's say you get this idea, to step on a
dandelion. You do it and then skip off to the hay bale. The
original thought, to step on the dandelion, has gone. But if
I have the same idea, my brain repeats the
message—step on the dandelion, step on the dandelion,"
James said in a booming, theatrical voice, and Isaac
giggled. "There's a technical name for my hiccups, but the
easiest explanation is that my thoughts get stuck."
My thoughts get stuck. Tilly nodded slowly. A phrase that
makes sense.
"You mean like getting stuck on the idea of my mom doing
your garden?"
"Exactly."
Isaac sucked in his breath. "How do you get unstuck?"
Good question. Do I have an out clause if I end up
working for this chap? Of course, going to England the next
day made that whole scenario pretty unlikely. James seemed
to be on a mission to start pronto and she couldn't commit
to anything before the school year started.
"How do you get rid of your hiccups?" James asked.
"My mom drops an ice cube down my back." Isaac gave an
exaggerated shiver. "Yuck."
"Well, if your mother can help me create a garden—"
James tugged off his sunglasses and gazed at Tilly
"—that will be my ice cube."
"Cool," Isaac said, and reached for James's hand.
James hesitated. "I'm not good at holding hands. Another
bad habit."
"No biggie." Isaac slotted his arm through James's, and
they smiled at each other.
Poor James. She couldn't imagine not being able to hold
hands. She loved that feeling of being weighted to another
person. Holding hands was the best of the best, and the one
thing she missed most about her marriage. More than sex,
more than kissing. David had been a hand holder. He couldn't
even sit next to Tilly on the sofa without reaching for her.
Tilly flattened her hand over her heart...and shrieked.
Her sugar cone had collapsed, and icy sludge oozed down her
legs.
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