"Educational." Sasha glanced at Cathy, who was wheeling the wheelbarrow out of the kitchen garden toward the sheds. "Though I'm beginning to suspect Cathy enjoys watching city people make fools of themselves with basic horticulture."
Victoria laughed. "She might. I once watched her teach Archie how to prune roses. He managed to give himself a black eye with his own secateurs."
"How does one even…" Sasha began, then shook her head. "Actually, never mind. I can absolutely see how that would happen."
"Natural talent," Victoria said solemnly. "He's also managed to walk into the same glass door seven times since Christmas."
"The same door?"
"The exact same door. Mother's started leaving it open permanently because she's afraid he'll concuss himself."
Sasha grinned, and Victoria felt that warm sensation again, stronger this time.
"You know," Sasha said, studying Victoria with those disconcertingly green eyes, "you're different than I expected."
"Different how?"
"Funnier. Less… I don't know. Less terrifyingly perfect, I suppose."
Victoria wasn't sure whether to be complimented or offended. "Terrifyingly perfect?"
"That's how Ambrose described you. Perfect career, perfect life, perfect everything. Rather intimidating for those of us who can barely manage to keep houseplants alive."
"I see." Victoria found herself oddly stung by this description, even though it was technically accurate. Or had been accurate, until three days ago. "And what about you? How would Ambrose describe you?"
"Charmingly disorganized," Sasha said promptly. "Professionally directionless but excellent in a crisis involving lost cats or broken kitchen appliances."
"That's quite specific."
"I have a gift for unconventional problem-solving. Last month I helped our upstairs neighbor retrieve his keys from a storm drain using a coat hanger, a fishing net, and a jar of peanut butter."
"Should I ask how the peanut butter was involved?"
"Bait for his escaped ferret, who had also fallen down the drain and was sitting on the keys."
Victoria stared at her. "You're joking."
"I'm really not. The ferret's name was Napoleon and he had very strong opinions about being rescued."
Despite herself, Victoria found herself genuinely laughing for the first time in days. "That's… that's actually quite impressive."
"See? Unconventional problem-solving." Sasha's eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, Victoria noticed. It was unfairly attractive.
From across the gardens came the sound of raised voices, and Victoria suddenly remembered why she was supposed to be heading toward the rose garden.
"I should go," she said reluctantly. "Family crisis involving Instagram optimization, apparently."
"Sounds ominous."
"You have no idea. Tiffany has decided that our hedge maze isn't photogenic enough and wants to 'rebrand' it with fairy lights and motivational quotes or something."
"Motivational quotes in a hedge maze?"
"'Live, Laugh, Love' carved into the topiary, I think." Victoria shook her head.
"Huh." Sasha grinned. "I'm rather curious to see how that plays out."
"Oh, it'll be spectacular. Archie will defend whatever Tiffany wants because he's besotted, father will emerge from his greenhouse looking murderous, and grandmother will make pointed observations about the decline of civilization."
