Maggie Beautiful adjusted herself on the lawn chair, putting down the magazine she was reading. She looked over her glasses. “What are you planting there?”
“Roses!” I gave a great heave as the sickle came down with a slick slice.
“Oh, that will be so pretty.” She turned toward the private terrace that connected to the master bedroom. “You’ll have a perfect view of them too.”
“That’s the idea.”
I kept up this pace for about two hours before she sat up, checking on my progress again.
“Um, doll.” She tapped her tooth. “Are you planning on digging to Switzerland?”
“No.” I went deeper. “Why?”
“I don’t think you need to go that far down for roses.”
I wiped a hand across my sweaty head. “You’ve planted them before?”
“No, but you’re digging a grave, not a bed.”
She went back to reading her romance novel—she had given up the magazine some time ago. I mimicked her when she wasn’t looking.
“I saw that, Scarlett Gorgeous.” She tapped her forehead. “I’m stifling. We need something cool to drink.”
“We have fresh lemonade in the fridge.”
“Oh, that would be delightful! Grab me a glass.”
I stared at her for a moment, amazed at the level of laziness she could achieve, before giving in and deciding that a few minutes in the cool air would be worth the trip and the cold drink.
After pouring us each a glass, I sliced a recently picked lemon from our small orchard as a garnish. It felt nice in my hands, fresh, firm, and still warm from the sun. To relish in the cool air for a few moments longer, I stood by the window, staring out at the road, drinking in the cool, tart liquid.
The drink that I had just taken shot out, splattering all over the glass. “Violet?” I breathed. “Violet!” I screamed.
She struggled with two rolling bags of luggage, stopping every so often to wipe her head. I went to shout at her again, but realizing that she couldn’t hear, I took off after her. When she saw me, she took off after me and we collided, turning in a circle.
“What are you doing here?” I kept her close to me.
“Eww.” She tried to push me away. “Ballerina gone nasty! Gah. You’re all sweaty!”
“I’ve been tending to my garden.”
She studied my face for a moment. She patted my cheek. “You look different,Sandy.” Her voice floated. It was a bit wistful.
“Yes?” I said, touching my hair. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re more beautiful than any woman has the right to be.”
“GAH!” I yanked her to me. “I’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too.” She held me tighter.
“Violet? What’s wrong?”
She rested her cheek against my shoulder. She sniffed. “I left him.”
“Who?”
She pulled away, slapping at her red-rimmed eyes. “I deserve that,” she said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her. “I’ve been terrible, I know.”
