Page 6 of Love Grows

“Where’s your flat?”

I pointed back at the nursery. “Go past the nursery then after three steps.” I raised my finger to aim it at the second floor of the 1970s two-storey block of flats. “Up there on the second storey.”

Steph laughed. “Handy.”

“Very handy. In case of?—”

“Plant emergencies?” That grin made itself welcome again.

I released my own grin, adding an eyebrow lift. “You never know when a wisteria is having a moment.” We held eye contact and the smile that the joke produced.

Then I panicked. Was I flirting? Was Steph flirting? Why was there flirting? Was I now a clueless lesbian who thought mutual grinning constituted a flirt of some sort and not synchronised satisfaction at a situation?

I dropped my gaze and glared at my coffee.

“So what will I be doing tomorrow?”

I looked up. “Well, probably dealing with a few customers, actually. It’s Saturday so we get quite a bit of foot traffic. Expect random drop-ins.”

“I can do that. Quite prepared for people-ing.”

“People-ing. Good word, that.” Then it occurred to me. “Your resume was a bit light on as far as job experience goes. I know you worked with Kirk but what else have you done?”

It was Steph’s turn to stare into her coffee. “So, you know that my parents died when I was twenty-six. I didn’t do much after that. Just travelled a lot. Did some overseas work in bars. That sort of thing. Poked my toe into the family business.” She met my eyes. “I have a brother who is eight years older than I am.”

I smiled. “Same age as me.”

“It’s a good age. The tree of common sense has mostly established itself by the time you’re forty. Not quite in my brother. His common sense tree is working hard not to pop its clogs.”

I stared, then fell about laughing.

“Pop its clogs?”

That grin. “Uh huh. I’ll make sure the Dig It’s plants and any wooden footwear are kept separated.”

* * *

Later,after we’d confirmed an eight o’clock start, said goodbye, and I’d settled into my comfy couch with its flowery 1980s fabric with Tough curled up in the corner, it occurred to me that Steph hadn’t answered my question about where and what she’d been doing since graduating university. I did quick calculations. Twenty-six when her parents died. Twenty-one or twenty-two when she finished uni. So what was she really doing for four years? Curious. I told myself it didn’t matter. I was simply being nosy. As far as I was concerned, Steph Thatcher was good people and I had a highly tuned antenna for good people. It hadn’t steered me wrong in my entire adult life.

ChapterThree

Emu bush 'Kalbarri Carpet’

(Eremophila glabra)

A native ground-cover with soft silvery foliage and gold tubular flowers. Perfect for native gardens, wildlife gardens, winter gardens, feature ground-cover or as a weed suppressant. Containing the plant in a pot is also an option. Prefers free-draining soil, but can handle heavier soils. Plant in full sun to light shade and mulch after planting to retain moisture particularly if growing in southern states.

“So, you decided on colour coordination,” I said to Steph when she turned up at ten to eight the next morning. I pointed to her dark blue shirt and jeans. “Excellent. Although, the apron might clash.” We grinned at each, which made me feel funny in my stomach. Far out. I was forty years old and behaving like a teenager with a tiny work crush.

I handed over the apron I was holding, and Steph whipped the straps over her head and tied the apron to her slim torso. I grimaced as she had to double the straps over to make it fit properly.

“I’m sorry. It was made to fit me. I don’t have any small sizes yet, but I’ll order you one.” That was me: a sturdy chunk of timber. I wasn’t overly vain about my appearance. I wouldn’t have sent ten small hoop earrings like a caterpillar up the outside of each ear if I were. I just liked the look of them. And body wise? I gave an internal shrug. I was okay with strong, medium height, stocky, and looking like the sort of competent lesbian who could star in an advertisement for Subaru.

I gestured for her to follow me around the nursery.

“So, Dig It has been in business for twenty years. I took over the running of the place when I got my diploma of nursery management and horticulture. Mum and Dad insisted that I have a strong sense of business as well as an understanding of Australian flora.”

“That’s young to start managing a business,” Steph commented as she caressed a leaf on each plant every time we stopped on our tour.

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