Page 73 of The Secret
“Look at these beds,” I said, pointing excitedly. “See the way they used reclaimed fieldstone to build them up? That will last foryearswith hardly any maintenance if done correctly. Pebbles for the paths. And check out the plant choices—delphiniums, salvia, pink asters, wolfsbane. Perennials,” I told Micah, like he didn’t already know. “But so carefully chosen so they’ll bloom from spring right on through to fall.”
Micah came up behind me and rested his hand at the small of my back. “A true three-season garden.”
“Exactly,” I sighed happily. “In the back there? That whole row that’s just starting to turn red are burning bushes.”
“Looks like it,” Micah agreed. “It’s spectacular.”
“And in a couple weeks, it’ll be even better,” I said.
“That it will.” A woman on the other side of the wall stood up and dusted her dirty hands on her equally-dirty jeans. She was maybe thirty, but it was hard to tell since her face was absolutely covered in freckles. Her curly, caramel-colored hair blew in the breeze like dandelion fluff. “I’m Iris Bartlett.” She extended her hand. “My brother and I run this place.”
“Con Ross,” I said, taking it.
“Micah Bloom.” Micah nodded.
“You guys here for apples and hayrides?”
“I’m here for the donuts,” Micah said. “Pretty sure we’re gonna be standing here looking at the garden a bit longer first though.”
She grinned. “Look as long as you like. Always happy to have a fellow gardener around. Oh, and if you have any questions about the orchard or permaculture and have an hour—or three, not kidding—to spare, my brother Watt’s around, too. You might have passed him on the way up.”
“Was he the apple?” Micah asked.
“No.” Iris laughed. “That’s Watt’s son Jack. He’s ten. Watt claims he’s already done his time in the apple costume, and it was time to pass the torch to the next generation.” She winked.
But I didn’t care about her brother or the apple-guy… er, apple-kid. “So, permaculture in the garden, I get. But in an orchard? Does that mean staggering the trees with nitrogen-fixing plants? Is there a way to do that without sacrificing design?”
The woman blinked and her brown eyes warmed. “Oh, man. I changed my mind. Donotengage Watt, or he’ll hold you hostage forever. You know, he was thinking of holding classes on Saturdays this winter, kind of discussing the topic. Personally, I wasn’t sure how much local interest there’d be. But if you’re up for it, I could send you some info—”
I swallowed and bit my lip. Saturdays meant festivals, sometimes followed by a shift at the station. “I don’t know. Maybe he could send me some literature. Websites or books I could—”
“Con’s interested,” Micah interrupted, pulling me in closer. “He’s definitely interested.”
I turned my head to look at him. “Yeah, but I’ve got to—”
“You’ll figure it out,” he interrupted. “When you want something bad enough, you'll figure out how to get it. Right?” He raised one eyebrow at me significantly.
My cheeks heated at the memory of the last time I'd spoken those words, back at The Hive last month.
Myboyfrienddid not play fair.
“I guess so,” I agreed.
“Totally none of my business,” Iris said, “but how long have you guys been together?”
“Uh.” I looked at Micah. Since June, when he kissed me? Since August when we first had sex? Since ten minutes ago, when Micah had called me his boyfriend? “It’s complicated,” I finished.
“Isn’t it always?” She smiled. “Come on and I’ll take your contact info.”
Later, after Iris had not only taken down my email address and information, but had also given us a couple of free tote bags and pointed out the rows they were harvesting this week, Micah and I strolled through the trees hand-in-hand for a few minutes before he pulled me to sit on the grass beneath the low-hanging branches of a pear tree.
The dappled sun was warm on my skin through the fabric of my t-shirt, but the breeze was cool, and the air smelled sweet, like apples and possibilities.
“You know, I’ve lived in O’Leary my whole life, and I never knew this place existed. Never knew Paston Marsh existed either. Or that diner with the good coffee. It’s funny how much you miss, even when it’s right there waiting for you.” I moved closer, so my shoulder knocked against Micah’s. “Thank you for that.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said, all gruff and adorable. “I like discovering things with you. Even shit I’ve already seen looks different with you there.”
“Because I’mtrouble,” I reminded him. “Crazy.”
