Page 25 of Love Grows

“No. No ghosts. Just…I thought he looked like someone I used to know…” She held my gaze. “From ages ago and therefore not relevant, but I wasn’t about to engage in a conversation. Sorry for being weird.”

“Look, I’ve seen weird in my life and you, Steph Thatcher, are not weird. So don’t worry about it. I’m glad you didn’t come over. It was Harry What’s-his-face from Walker’s.He was basically threatening me with a smear campaign if we didn’t withdraw our letter of complaint.”

Steph straightened, eyes ablaze. “Oh my god, he didn’t! That arsehole!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. He was careful, though. He didn’t say it outright. It was more like,” I paused. “A join-the-dots to get the answer.”

“But that’s absolutely illegal, almost.” Steph paced in the little bit of floor space that the office had, then tossed her hands, all the while muttering to herself. She came to a dead stop in front of me. “What were they thinking?”

I shrugged.

Steph grabbed the sides of my head and planted a big kiss on my mouth. “Do you mind if I finish early? I have something I need to attend to.”

I shrugged. “Sure. It’s only another hour until closing. I can’t imagine a stampede of customers in that period of time.”

* * *

There wasa stampede during the week, however. Each day, a constant stream of people filtered through the front door. Some customers. Some browsers.

I wondered why until Lucas waved his phone in front of me on Thursday afternoon.

“Look at this!” He wriggled his hand, which I grabbed to hold the phone still.

“What am I looking at?”

“Us. Dig It. We’re on Insta. We’ve even got an account.”

I plucked the phone out of his hand and tapped the account icon. It wasn’t Dig It.

“NatsNatives?”

“Isn’t it cool?” enthused the young customer at the counter. Her friend nodded in confirmation. “It’s that tagPlantsGiveMePower, like an affirmation, right? Think of all that oxygen!” Then the teens grabbed their pots and bounced out through the exit.

I stared at Lucas, who grinned.

“Well, yeah. Not technically Dig It,butNatsNativesmentions us and does these cool dancing plant videos, like stop motion, which people are copying in their own vids and tagging the account. That tag,PlantsGiveMePower, means we’re getting business from dancing potted plants.”

He laughed, then doubled over as he caught my expression. “Angel, this is good news. Don’t be old.”

I glared at him. “I’m not being old. I’m being confused.” I circled my finger at my face. “See? Confused.” I returned my gaze to the screen. The plant, acallistemon, was demonstrating a wonderful interpretation of the Macarena to the dulcet tones of Jennifer Lopez. Viewers could tap the screen to pause the dancing and read the info boxes which gave handy bite-sized hints on how to care for that particular native plant and how it related to mental health.

All the facts were correct. It was very clever, very catchy, and very generous. Whoever Nat was, they were delivering customers to my door.

* * *

“Haveyou worked out who your Insta angel is, yet?” Pip slapped my hand as I moved one of the Tarot cards.

I was sitting opposite her at the Tarot table at the far edge of Jule’s cafe. Once a month, Pip conducted community forecasts. Everyone in our little tribe had their life map checked or whatever Pip decided was the most appropriate activity for her practice. It was my turn in her roster, and because I was somewhat of a skeptic, picking at the cards to get the process moving along was par for the course. I curled my fingers away at Pip’s soft physical admonishment.

“No idea but it’s hilarious seeing a few teens or twenty-somethings come in to take selfies with plants.”

Pip laughed, then sobered. “Right. What’s your question?” she asked, staring at me intently.

“I don’t have one.”

“Fine. I’ll give you a question. Repeat after me. Where is this mooning over Steph heading?” Pip picked up the first deck of cards.

“I don’t want to know where it’s heading. I like where it is right now,” I said, ignoring her instruction.

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