Garden

‘Ouch!’ I cried out, jerking my hand away from the rose bush.

         ‘What is it?’ Amanda called out to me from where she was kneeling in the dirt.

         ‘Stupid rose!’ I shook my hand, then stuck my injured finger in my mouth. ‘It stuck me!’ I mumbled around the digit.

         ‘That bush?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘That one right there?’

         ‘Yes, the one coated with my blood.’ I frowned. ‘Why do I feel like you’re about to take the bush’s side?’

         ‘Because that’s a bush of thornless roses,’ she chuckled. ‘You may be the only person I know who could stick themselves on a thorn that doesn’t exist.’

         ‘You think I’m lying?’

         ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘But I do think you somehow manifested a thorn into being.’

         ‘Why would I—’

         ‘Oh, relax,’ she laughed again. ‘I’m just teasing you.’

         ‘Oh.’ I frowned. ‘Good. I knew thornless roses weren’t a real thing.’

         ‘No, they definitely are. Wait, you thought I was lying?’

         ‘You seriously know where to buy thornless roses?’ I asked, awestruck. ‘I thought they were a myth, like unicorns or pomegranates.’

         ‘So much to unpack there.’ Amanda shook her head. ‘How’s your finger?’

         ‘Painful,’ I said, obstinately. ‘But I think I’ll live.’

         ‘Unless it gets infected,’ she noted. ‘You’re too stubborn for antibiotics.’

         I narrowed my eyes at her.

         ‘You know how I wanted to take up gardening with you? Get some sun, spend some time together, maybe buy David Austin roses and plant them outside our window?’

         ‘Yeah?’ she said.

         ‘It was a nice idea,’ I hissed, dropping my trowel in the dirt and standing up.

         ‘Oh, don’t be such a baby,’ she laughed. ‘Come back here and let’s finish off this bush!’

         ‘Nope.’ I brushed stray dirt off my pants. ‘Not interested! Gardening is not fun!’

         ‘It is if you let it be.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You have to give it a chance!’

         I took a deep breath and thought about what she was saying. Maybe I had been too hasty. Maybe I should give gardening another—

         ‘Oh god, a bee!’ Amanda cried out, barrelling past me to get inside.

‘Ooh, what are those?’ Molly asked, bounding away from us and towards a wild flower patch.

         ‘Not too far, please,’ Gemma called after her, in that unholy mix of gentle and stern that I’d never been able to master.

         ‘Reckon she’ll bring back some berries?’ I asked. ‘Our little forager.’

         ‘I hope not,’ Gemma frowned. ‘Then she’ll get a taste for it. We’ll have to find out where to buy seeds online.’

         ‘We should probably stop for lunch soon,’ I noted, the picnic basket nestled on my shoulders.

         ‘Is the cheese getting too heavy, dear?’ Gemma teased me.

         ‘Yes, actually!’ I grinned back. ‘And don’t get me started on the biscuits—’

         ‘Where did Molly go?’ Gemma suddenly snapped to alert, glancing around the park. We were completely alone, nobody else around us – and no sign of Molly.             

         ‘Molly?’ I called out, in the general direction of the bush she’d been heading towards. ‘Molly, where are you?’

         After a short, heart-stopping wait, her little head popped up from behind the bush.

         ‘Yeah?’ she called back to us.

         Gemma and I both sighed, deeply and in unison.

         ‘Lunchtime, honey,’ Gemma told her. ‘From now on,’ she whispered to me out of the side of her mouth, ‘that girl only explores standard roses, near me. None of those interesting varieties.’

         ‘Good call,’ I nodded.

         ‘You two are weird,’ Molly rolled her eyes as she trudged towards us.

         ‘“Weird” is what boring people call interesting people,’ Gemma told her, as I unfurled the picnic blanket.

         ‘Oh god, do we have a boring child?’ I asked her.

         ‘No!’ Molly protested. ‘I’m not boring!’

         ‘But, then that would make you…’ I frowned like I was in a pantomime.

         ‘You have to say it, honey,’ Gemma said to Molly, as she laid out the plates, ‘or he’ll never take that look off his face.’

         ‘I’m weird,’ the little girl huffed.

         ‘Thank you,’ I nodded solemnly. ‘Now come get some cheese before your mother eats it all.’