I didn’t think I’d have trouble keeping my thoughts professional while getting dirty.
Magnus has stopped talking, and I was so distracted by my wandering thoughts that I haven’t come up with another question.
“Do you usually finger them to see if they’re wet?” I say the first thing that comes to mind.
Magnus pauses what he’s doing, but doesn’t reply.
Is he that secretive about his watering techniques? I should have asked about something else.
I nervously stick my fingers in the pot I just picked up, testing to see if it needs water.
I squeal when the dirt pokes me back and yank my hand out.
A pair of tiny eyes in a small, grumpy face pops out of the dirt. I jerk backward, almost falling off the bench, but Magnus saves me. He lifts me off the bench and sets me behind him.
“What is it?” he asks, scanning the table.
“Don’t you see it?? There’s something in there looking at me!” I say, clutching his shirt and pressing against his back.
Magnus leans down to look.
“Don’t get too close!” I warn him.
“You mean in the peppermint pot? That’s just Pete,” Magnus says calmly.
“Pete? What’s a Pete??”
How can he be so calm? I’ve never even heard of a Pete. Are they dangerous? Are they poisonous?? I touched it!
“Pete is a rain frog. He’s been living in our garden for years and loves to bury himself in the dirt. I should have warned you to keep an eye out for him. I always feel around the soil to see if he’s in there before I repot anything,” Magnus says.
“It’s a frog?” I ask suspiciously, working up the courage to see for myself.
I slowly edge around Magnus’s side, keeping my hands safely anchored in his shirt. He lifts his arm so I can walkunder it while staying plastered to his hard, muscular body for safety.
I peek at the pot where those little yellow slit-pupil eyes peer up at me disdainfully.
Now that I’m not panicking, I can see that he’s a frog. A very angry frog. It’s not like Imeantto disturb his nest.
I glare right back. He should know not to startle people.
“You’re sure he’s not dangerous?” I ask doubtfully.
“Rain frogs are venomous, but they’re not likely to bite humans. Pete has never been aggressive with people. He does a great job of protecting our garden from pests though,” Magnus says.
“Venomous!” I recoil.
Magnus tucks me under his arm. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“But he’s staring at me,” I say, pouting and keeping an eye on him.
“You just startled him. He recognizes the rest of us, but you’re new. I’m sure he’s just as wary of you as you are of him,” Magnus says calmly.
I suppose that’s possible. Pete hasn’t moved since I accidentally jostled his dirt nest. If someone enteredmynest unprompted and started messing with it, I’d probably have already bitten them.
“What should I do? Do I let him smell my hand?” I say.
Magnus makes a choked noise, body vibrating.
