Page 9 of Love Grows

“Meanwhile,” she said. “I called my friend Kat, who’s the lawyer I was talking about. She said she’d find a colleague who could take on our complaint because apparently it’s fairly simple to irritate a council into compliance.”

“Yay for annoying,” I said, my smile underlining the mock frown I wore. I noticed straight away that Steph had joined in on our ownership of the issue as well. She’d said, “Our complaint,” and I couldn’t stop the warm glow in my veins.

Pip laughed, then tipped her head at the door. “Your crew are here.”

I looked over and saw that at least half of my Bonsai Brains group had walked in. I gave them a wave, then followed through with sweep of my hand to indicate that they could head on back to the tables and that I’d be there in a moment.

“I better go,” announced Pip. “The senior citizens mini bus is on its way and we’ll need all hands on deck.”

I patted Steph on the back. “About fifteen old ladies will descend on this nursery in about sixty-three minutes after they’ve each eaten a vanilla slice and drunk an entire pot of tea. They’re all yours.”

“What?” Steph wore panicked look.

“Don’t worry. They don’t buy much. One or two might but that’s all. It’s more.” I put on a highly affected ninety-year-old voice. “In my day we would grow pumpkins in a patch the size of the MCG then enter them into the local agricultural show and win first prize. Remind me to bring in my trophies next month.” I rolled my lips together as Pip cracked up.

Steph stared, then laughed. “Okay. So while you’re bonsai-ing, I’m dealing with multiple clones of my grandmother.” She flipped her hand as if to ‘Am I right?’

“Pretty much.”

Pip agreed, nodding. “Well, I better go,” she repeated. “There’s a couple of the younger seniors who like their cards read. Although I did have one last month who said not to bother because she could get hit next week by a delinquent riding a mobility scooter in the corridor of the aged care facility and no Tarot reading would help that.” With that, Pip skipped off next door.

“Before you dash off, Angel.” Steph touched my arm lightly. Which was nice and sent odd, uncalled for, andwhat-the-hellbutterflies cascading through my stomach. “I won’t interrupt your Bonsai Brains, but if I get into an awkward spot, can I give you a wave or something?”

I grinned. “A wave, which may need to have more speed to it than a simple greeting, is a perfect SOS.”

She huffed a sigh of relief. “Good. I just thought you’d be in the middle of doing a therapy?—”

“Not a therapist. Or a counsellor, for that matter.”

“Oh.”

“I am absolutely not qualified to deal with anyone’s important head stuff. But!” I held up a finger and Steph sent me a quizzical frown. “I am qualified to provide a plant each for a group of kids who need focus, companionship, and quiet. They’re always surprised at how much they have in common and yet they’re all so different. It makes for a camaraderie that I could never provide if it was just me, talking at them about a plant.” I nodded slowly. “I give them space. They bring the support.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Thank you, and because it’s so important to me, I’m going to fight the Walker’s place with every cell in my body.” I wiped my hands down my apron. “Right. Bonsai Braining.” I left Steph to it, and walked down the back of the store to greet my collection of ten young people.

ChapterFour

Lilly Pilly

(Acmena smithii)

Excellent blank slate for bonsai as it heals well from cutting and the new growth is particularly eye-catching, as it emerges in striking red and glossy shades. It is evergreen with vibrant, rounded, glossy green foliage and dense growth. Low maintenance and tolerant of various conditions.

It was after a full week: the first Saturday, the Wednesday and then Saturday—today—that I decided Steph had a magnetic device attached to her body. Nothing else could explain Steph's pull, Steph’s ability to make me aware of her location anywhere in the nursery. Perhaps it was a chemical imbalance.

“Angel, what’s attraction? Like, what makes something or someone attractive?”

I blinked away the weird thoughts, and focussed on Kadee, one of my weekly Bonsai Brain attendees. The earnest expression on her face indicated the seriousness of her question. She’d even placed her tweezer spatula next to her bonsai as if having nothing in her hands would fully respect my answer.

“I’m sorry, Kadee. I didn’t hear you.”

Nice.

Kadee didn’t frown at my disengagement. In fact, her expression was pretty much default: eyes boring holes into the person she was talking to, intense stillness as if to glue the respondent to their spot in case they actually walked away. Paul, another member of the group, possessed a somewhat similar fear. He spoke rapidly without pause as if he feared if he took a breath, someone would fill in or finish his sentence with a word that he didn’t want or need and then he had to use the word because the other person had taken charge of the conversation. Therefore, rapid speech that lacked punctuation. Paul had such interesting things to talk about and on his ‘safe’ days, he would regale us with anecdotes of other students’ exploits at his high school.

“So, what’s attraction?” Kadee peered around her piece, and pinned me to my spot at the head of the long table. “I’m trying to work out what makes something or someone attractive. My therapist said I should try to find attractiveness in the world, but it’s hard when it’s all black. Black’s not that attractive unless you’re Jenna Ortega’s nails. What do you think is attractive?”

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