“Maybe she’s a serial killer,” Sarah suggested. “I heard about this one guy who had like a wife and kids and stuff, and everyone at work said he was nice, and he always smiled and helped his neighbor get her groceries out of the car, but he killed like a thousand people.”
They piled into May’s car. May only shrugged at the serial killer comment. “Guess you’ll never know,” she said, smirking at Sarah in the rearview mirror. “But you better stay on my good side!”
“Wow, that made me shudder. Like actually.” Sarah wiggled a little as if shaking off the chill. “Please don’t kill me. I have an algebra test on Monday.”
“Okay. Since you asked nicely.”
They continued to casually discuss serial killers during the drive to Sarah’s house. When they arrived, Emmy turned around from the front seat to say goodbye.
“See you tomorrow, darling.”
They tapped the tips of their index fingers together in their usual gesture of farewell. Sarah’s older sister, Beth, had once told them it made them look like lesbians. The comment was so baffling and funny that they’d begun crafting an increasingly fanciful hypothetical love story for themselves that involved houses all over the world, fabulous wealth, and plenty of scandal. There was also a single paparazzo named Gregolas who followed them everywhere they went, desperate to capture a single shot of their infamous finger touch. In the way of younger siblings, they also started doing it more often when Beth was around.
“I need to go to the hardware store,” Emmy said as May pulled away from the curb.
“Okay.”
May drove her to the store without any question or complaint. She followed Emmy through the garden section. From the way she kept checking her phone and shooting off texts, Emmy guessed that her friend had confronted whoever they were supposed to talk to. She was glad May would have something to keep her occupied. Taking the folded list out of her pocket, Emmy got to work filling the cart with pots, seeds, soil, and tools.
She still remembered the smell, earthy and comforting, which had been new to her at the time. She’d gone home that evening and begun planting. Made a mess. Her patient parents had believed her when she said she’d clean it up, and she’d made sure to do so before going to bed.
The very next morning, even though she knew nothing was going to be growing yet, she checked her little seedling pots. It became a routine, something she did after she woke up and before she brushed her teeth. The feeling that had blown through her the day she’d seen the first sprouts poking out of the soil… it was indescribable. She’d created something. She’d made seedsgrow. Green and delicate and new. A dozen at first. Then a dozen more. And more yet. Building everything up over the years until the once-bare patch of dirt was overflowing with life.
One of her fondest memories was a bright Saturday morning when her father had appeared with a brand-new lawn chair. Without a word, he’d set himself up in the shade with a newspaper and a can of pop. That was the first day of many when her father found time to just hang with her while she gardened. Occasionally her mother would join him, or straight up steal his chair. May even stopped by toask questions sometimes, though she kept herself firmly on the lawn and cast wary glances at the dirt.
Standing in the garden she’d made herself, one that had been hers for half her life now, Emmy ran her fingers over a rose petal. If she went to the closet in the mudroom right now, she was pretty sure she would find that same fold-up yellow lawn chair. It was hard not to find reasons to linger, let the good memories wash over her, but eventually she had to leave. What would the neighbors think if they saw the Miuras’ daughter standing idly in their garden like she was joining the gnome, the lucky cat, and the scarecrow? Maybe that was her calling, she mused as she walked to her car.
Emmy Miura: Lawn Ornament.
It would make for fun business cards at least.
Sighing a little, she turned the key in the ignition and headed for home.
*
That night, after getting into her favored duck pajamas, Emmy cracked open her romance novel to see how handsome nurse Will Barrett was doing. The narrator treated her to a tour of the hospital. She met Will’s best friend, Jared, an attractive Black anesthesiologist who had been burned by love once before in a messy divorce. The narrator didn’t explicitly describe him as attractive, but Emmy figured it was implied since he was a character in a romance novel. She wondered if Jared was going to end up the subject of a follow-up novel. At the moment, she felt fairly certain she’d be interested enough to read it.
Her eyes began to droop as Will sat drinking alone at the neighborhood gastropub after a bad day at work. ThenBright showed up unexpectedly, and it turned into a date of sorts.
“Flirt harder,” Emmy muttered sleepily after Bright pulled the classic giggle-and-touch-hot-guy’s-arm maneuver. “I don’t think you’re being obvious enough yet.”
“I haven’t seen you around town much,” Will said, sipping his beer. His bad mood had flown away on swift wings the moment he’d heard Bright’s laugh.
“Mm, and you won’t for a while yet. I’m still looking to hire more part-time help for my shop. Until then it’s work, work, work,” Bright replied, smiling sweetly.
“Work, work, work,” Will repeated with a nod.
Emmy yawned as she pushed herself to at least finish the scene, but she only managed to read the rest of Will’s dialogue.
“Welcome to my world.”
Emmy didn’t feel the book slip from her fingers as she dropped instantly to sleep.
Five
She woke up, groggy and disoriented, with sunlight blasting directly into her eyes. Squinting against the glare, she considered whether she’d be able to convince her body to fall back asleep if she put a pillow over her head. She had no idea what time it was, but it felt too early to be awake.
“What the fuck!”
