Page 82 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘It’s not more lavender oil, is it?’

She walks over to one of the plants and imitates jazz hands over the top of it as if to present it in the manner it deserves. ‘Meet … well, you’ll have to name it. I was thinking of something beginning with an “F” or a “Ph.” But not everyone loves alliteration. So, you know, whatever you want…’

She’s nervous.

So sweetly nervous that I have to tear my gaze away from her and force myself to stare down at the plant.

‘You still haven’t told me what it is?’ I say, charmed that a stranger would think to get me a plant to look after.

Not a stranger, I remind myself for the second time.

We’ve exchanged notes.

Compiled crosswords together.

Held hands.

‘It’s a Ficus plant,’ she says. ‘I bought you a Ficus.’

‘Ah.’ I nod my head. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s a real one.’

‘Well, you weren’t to know that taking responsibility for something living tends to add more stress when you don’t have a job.’

‘I could see if I could return it?—’

‘No. I want it. Thank you. Fern?’

‘Fern?’

‘Yes. Fern the Ficus.’

Her mouth drops open. ‘You can’t name it after another plant. It’ll get issues. It’s already had somewhat of a rough start.’

‘Did you save it from something, too?’

‘No, I did not save it,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘Contrary to popular opinion I’m not on a mission to go around “saving things”.’

‘Wow,’ I say back to her.

‘Sorry. Something someone said to me the other day that was so far off the mark as to be…’

‘On another planet?’ I offer.

She relaxes, flashes me a grin and says, ‘It was only when it arrived here and I dropped it and then put it wonkily into the pot that it began its shaky start.’

‘Feels like Fern and I could be kindred spirits,’ I say, thinking back to arriving in New York and how this feeling of being on shaky ground has been following me around ever since. Bit of a revelation that I haven’t been feeling on a solid footing for so long. But why? I’m working to a plan. A plan I came up with. The plan to get me exactly where I wanted to be. I don’t get it but also, really don’t want to think about it right now. ‘I’m sure you didn’t mean to hurt F?—’

‘Not Fern. Anything but Fern,’ she counters.

I grin again. ‘You said I should go for alliteration.’

‘But I was thinking more along the lines of Fergal. Fifi.’

‘How about Fiduciary?’

‘Fi–’ She looks horrified. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

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