Page 107 of Late Bloomer
“Cheers, sweetheart,” she says, leaning in and giving me a kiss more decadent than chocolate could ever hope to be.
“Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Eh, you bring a few skills to the barn,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder. I accept the compliment with a scrunch of my nose, turning to watch the first early snowfall of the season dance across the window.
We’ve finally closed the farm up for the year, and now it’s the season of rest until spring rolls around, and I’m borderline giddy at the prospect of gray winter mornings snuggled in bed with Opal, giggling the day away like we did so many times last winter. And the winter before that.
The day Opal chose to stay, it finally felt like life clicked into place. It didn’t take long for us to find a rhythm, the energy through the cabin like a heartbeat between us. The way Opal always knows which plot I’m at if I let her sleep in. The unique creak of the floorboards when she gets up from the bed to take a shower. The cadence of her steps through the house when she paces around her studio—Grandma Lou’s old bedroom—chasing an idea.
Opal yawns, and I take her mug, setting both on the hearth, then pull her closer to my side, playing with her lavender-colored hair as we watch the fire crackle and pop.
We quickly discovered that one of the best things about having the privilege of disposable income is being able to tap into resources. Like a really dope lawyer.
With the will, it was easy to contest Trish’s sale of the property, and while she had spent a big chunk of the money, we got the assets transferred into my name, quickly liquidating them and putting the funds directly into the farm, giving us plenty of room to breathe.
The Thistle and Bloom has been growing wildly ever since.
Opal’s added to our success by tying her shoes into the business. The little genius hand-paints gardening clogs—and other various footwear—decking them out with flowers inspired by our gardens. Her online shop got picked up by a few media outlets last holiday season, then a few more, and the demand this past year was so high, she hired two employees to help keep up with orders.
It’s hard to believe one person can hold so much beauty within them.
“I have something for you,” she says, stirring from my arms and sitting up, a mischievous smile spreading across her mouth.
“Please don’t let it be another severed-body-part cake,” I say, guard going up. Opal and Diksha have made it a weird bonding ritual to surprise me with a random and highly detailed anatomy cake every few months. Apparently my appalled reactions are “too funny” and “worth every cent.” I think they’re both evil.
“Not today,” Opal says with a giggle. “Here.” She reaches around me, rummaging on the low shelf of the coffee table for a moment before dropping a thick envelope in my hands.
She’s decorated the outside with doodles, and I hold it close to make out the details in the dim firelight. I feel like I’m going to cry as I realize they’re ink vignettes of us—my face scrunched up in laughter, Opal holding me close as we dance in the kitchen, our hands intertwined over a bed of flowers.
I lurch forward, taking her face in my hands and kissing her deeply. “I love it.”
Opal laughs, pulling back. “That’s not the gift, silly. You have to open it.”
“I don’t want to rip it,” I say in outrage, clutching the envelope to my chest.
Opal laughs again, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. “I’ll make you a thousand envelopes, love. But please open this one.”
With a resigned sigh, I hook my finger under the seal and pry it open. Glossy magazine paper folded a few times falls out, and I unfurl it, squinting at in confusion. The sheet is divided into a bunch of small boxes, tiny descriptions in each. I look at the second sheet, and it’s the same thing.
“Uh… thanks,” I say, setting them down gently. “I’m always looking for new stuff to read.”
Opal snorts. “Oh myGod, you’re hard to give gifts to. Read the note.”
I fish into the envelope again, pulling out two more sheets of paper, these crisp and official feeling. I read the one handwritten by Opal first.
Pepper,
You are the brightest person I know and a force of nature. I believe in you to do anything and everything you want, my love. Enjoy every moment of this next journey.
XO,
O
I read it over a few times, eyebrows knitting in confusion. I glance at Opal, and her face is red with excitement, like she’s about to explode joy all over me. I look at the next sheet. It’s addressed to me,529 Account Plantyped across the top in bold letters. I read the first few lines.
Dear Pepper,
Congratulations on opening your 529 Education Savings Plan! Please find your account details below.
