“You can never go wrong with carbs.”
“Do you want to help?” he asked.
“I think I’d rather watch,” I said.
“Would you mind grabbing some fresh basil?”
“Like in one of those clamshells?” I asked, going toward the fridge.
“Like on the front balcony,” he said, nodding toward the door.
“You grow herbs?”
“A few.”
“How much basil do you want?” I asked, kind of excited to check out the front balcony. It was one of the few places I hadn’t checked out yet.
“Enough to cover your palm.”
“Okay. But if the plant dies, it’s not my fault. My cousin claims I can make her garden wilt just by looking at it.”
“I won’t hold it against you,” he agreed, his eyes warm.
I made my way to the balcony, sliding open the door, my sweats keeping the cool air from chilling me.
Harrison had minimal furniture, just two chaise lounges set at the widest part of the balcony.
But a few feet from the sliding door sat a three-level wooden plant stand, each one loaded up with various herb plants.
Thanks to a few gardening enthusiasts in my family, I recognized rosemary, thyme, parsley, cilantro, sage, oregano, chives, and several large basil plants.
I’d always been kind of amazed by people who could grow and keep plants alive.
No, this wasn’t at the scale of the girls at the homestead or even some of the backyard gardens in my family. Still, it was neat to be able to grow something like this in the city. On a damn balcony.
I grabbed some of the basil the way Kit had taught me to harvest and brought it back into the kitchen with me.
“Have you always been a gardener?”
“I don’t know if I’d call that a garden. But, actually, yes. There was a big kitchen garden at my father’s home. The housekeepers and cooks always liked having fresh ingredients. And the gardeners were happy to oblige.”
“And because you had no real friends, you helped.”
“Yeah. I even went out at night with a headlamp to pluck tomato hornworms off the plants.”
“Do you miss it? Having a real garden?”
“Yes and no.”
“How is it both?”
“I do enjoy it. But I don’t have the time for a real garden right now. Maybe in the next five years.”
“Oh, you have a five-year plan. Willa is famous for those. I’m assuming the plan includes a house outside of the city.”
If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I would have missed the way his posture tightened ever so slightly.
“My childhood home.”
