Page 3 of Love Grows

“Everyone’s on board for the petition letter,” I announced, then paused as I took in Kahlia’s pale complexion. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Angel, I’m going to have to take you up on that offer of early maternity leave. It’s getting impossible to do my job properly. I’ve been hiding it but I just can’t anymore. My blood pressure is through the roof and I can’t lift things like I should be able to.” Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, and I rushed forward, dragging over the stool I’d made out of packing pallets last month.

I held her hand in both of my own.

“Hey. Hey. It’s fine. That’s why I offered it. I actually knew you’d been struggling and was going to mention it this week. I know the government workplace employee rights backwards and forwards and I’m supposed to offer you alternative work within the business.” I spread my arms out wide. “What alternative work is available? But even if I could offer anything, I’d pretend I couldn’t because I want you to access your maternity leave early. You get paid, I get an allowance from the government and a pat on the head, and my employee and friend is safe from commercial-grade bottles of ultra-enzymed tomato plant growth spray.”

Kahlia smiled.

I continued. “Then you come back when you’ve done your year at home after Sprout is born.”

Kahlia yanked a tissue from a nearby box. “Thanks, Angel,” she said wetly, dabbing her eyes. “It’s not just the physical stuff. Mum’s doing my head in, and I need to be at home just to save my sanity a bit. She needs to give me some space, and I know mental health is on the list of valid reasons to access early leave.”

“Of course it is.” I frowned. I didn’t facilitate a Saturday morning mental health group for no reason. Bonsai Brains was my initiative, something to be proud of, and helping kids find peace for an hour a week meant the world. I understood mental health.

“Yes, well, she’s been hovering over Derek and me. I mean, she’s been so supportive but she’s moved from support to strangulation. I can’t keep explaining to her that nappies can be changed on a lowered table and that Sprout won’t roll off. The only person who’ll be rolling around is me. But I feel really gaslit and I’m starting to doubt my ability to do this.” She patted her rounded abdomen. “Which might be adding to the high blood pressure.”

Tough, who was asleep under the chair, wriggled awake at the patting noise.

“Probably,” I agreed. “And that’s another reason to go on leave. Derek will be happier as well, because I know he’s been anxious. Your mum can get her stress feathers smoothed and maybe give you some space.”

I reached for the laptop where it sat on top of the filing cabinet, tabbed through various websites, found the government forms, sent them to the printer which sprang to life, and spat out the seemingly endless ream of paper.

“Done,” I said firmly, and Kahlia, after pulling me into a hug—the intensity of the squeeze probably indicating the level of relief—rolled off to see to the delivery of the banksia seedlings from the Yarra Valley.

Shit.

I always knew that finding a replacement for Kahlia was going to be necessary but it was much sooner than I’d planned. Tapping absently at the space next to the track pad, I eventually pulled up a blank document and began drafting a ‘Staff Required’ sign.

The potential staff member would need to be local. I gave a low hum of disagreement with that idea. Maybe not local, but Kahlia’s replacement would need to be someone who understood the idea of a boutique nursery, community, and customers as actual people. So I wasn’t going to place a link on SEEK dot com. A simple sign in the front window felt exactly right.

ChapterTwo

Bottlebrush

(callistemon)

Bottlebrushes dislike being overwatered – water only when the soil is dry at fingertip depth. A fertiliser designed for Australian natives should be applied in spring. Bottle brush tree care tends to be minimal. These plants are generally hardy and resistant to most diseases.

The mud cake was a supermarket special but Kahlia still cried as if it was a three-tiered farewell bonanza. I rubbed her arm.

“No need for tears. You’ll be back here before you know it. And with a baby attached!” I grinned. Kahlia wiped her cheeks and laughed.

“True. I’m a huge ball of excitement, anxiety, sadness, trepidation, and rampaging hormones. It’s a lot.” She gave an enormous sigh. “Derek is all the anxiety-laden words as well, but he’s been so amazing. He’s starting his twelve weeks paternity leave two weeks before little one here is due.” Kahlia patted her very round stomach.

Lucas shoved a large slice of cake into his mouth. His very valued presence at the tiny good luck party was due to his decision to skip the last lesson of the school day.

“I have science last lesson on Fridays,” he’d explained when he’d turned up earlier. “We’re doing plant cells at the moment, and I figure that by working here I’ve absorbed enough chlorophyl to pass the end of term test.”

His excuse was laughable. There was cake for a valued colleague and friend, and he was a teenaged bottomless pit when it came to food. A match made in heaven. Tough trundled over, his legs almost too small for his round body, and was startled when confronted with a surreptitious piece of cake which Lucas waved in front of his nose. My dog was another bottomless pit, and while his teenage years were long gone as he was now ten years old, he could still put away a decent slice of caramel mud cake

Derek arrived to pick up Kahlia and received hugs all round. Then, after scoffing down his own slice, he gave in after we insisted that he and Kahlia take the remainder home. Lucas announced that he should be going as well, and so after I received another hug from Kahlia and Derek, and a fist bump from Lucas, I leant back against the front counter and sighed happily. I had a good team, but I really hoped I’d find another member of that good team soon.

“Excuse me?”

I lifted my head to find a rather attractive possibly-thirty-something woman standing in front of me, her blonde hair caught up in a low ponytail, wearing what had to be one-hundred dollar jeans. And heels. With a beautiful leather portfolio satchel. I blinked at the entire package.Well, hello.

Assuming the woman was a customer, I pushed off the counter and took a step forward to see if I could assist.

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