Garden

Nate never thought the day would come where he’d be sitting in a garden with his childhood friend, potting plants, covered in dirt, and actually having fun.

 

Sara’s got a stripe of soil across her left cheek, courtesy of Nate, and earth is scattered across the legs of her denim overalls. The strap has slid off her right shoulder, and her braids are coming apart. “Nate, you idiot! Half our soil is gone now,” He laughs at her misery and grabs the empty pot from her gloved hands. “Let’s just make do with this one, then,” He supplies. “We’ll make this one perfect. Mine can be the crap one.” She smiles at him, and all is right with the world again.

 

It was Sara’s idea to make pots of flowers for Mother’s Day. She’d found a video online titled ‘DIY Cement Planter’ and convinced Nate to drive them both down to the hardware store and buy the supplies. He didn’t quite understand how simple ‘cement planters’ evolved to mean ‘full pots of flowers’, but he’d given up trying to keep up with the girl in Aisle 23 of Home Depot. Eventually they (she) got everything they (she) needed, and Nate could not be happier to get home.

 

Nate was halfway to slumber when Sara bounced down the stairs and onto the couch, jostling his head almost painfully. “Hey! Time to start on our presents!” He cracked open an eye. Sara was seated cross-legged, braiding her brunette locks, a backwards baseball cap on her crown. Amused, he followed her into the small brick-walled garden.

 

That small brick-walled garden is where they still are, three hours later, perched on the wall with bags of popcorn by their feet. They buy bouquets for Mother’s Day.

 

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