Page 1 of All Inn Thyme
1. mellie
I had no idea what he was fixing, but mine was broken.
When I got marriedfive years ago, I pictured a dream life with a beautiful cozy home, a family sharing loud dinners, belly laughs during game nights, and fun vacations to the beach or the mountains.
That’s not even close to the hell that I got.
Now, my son and I are trulylivingin a cozy loft above a garden shed behind a family-owned inn in New Hampshire. Our entire living space could probably fit into the kitchen of our old home, but at least we’re safe now. My son and I have been through so much, but we’ve made it out.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
We’re safe in Freedom Valley. We’re not in Mississippi anymore.
Breathe, Mellie. Breathe. In and out.
I turn to scan my garden as I focus on my breaths. I clench my fist and run my knuckles over my chest, trying to ease the tightness.
A sense of warmth comes over me like a wave as I take in the rows of dirt, seeds planted under the dark soil by my very own hands, and growth beginning to sprout. The sun heats my back as I take in the colors—pops of dark and light greens and brown dirt, wet from the rain. The rich garden aroma brings me back to where I truly am, and not what makes me anxious. This is my safe space. The place where I can think and finally dream again.
I make my way back to the inn and look down at my clothes streaked in dirt. I need to shower before dinner, and I still have some laundry to catch up on. I need to get my linen carts stocked for tomorrow so I can hit the ground running and free up more time to garden.
I step into the shed and find Beth, who’s become one of my best friends this past year. She’s been through her own hell, and she knows some of my story, but not a lot. When her fiancé Evan, the owner of the inn, brought my son and me here to the Golden Gable, he agreed to keep my past a secret, and so far, we’ve done that. Beth helps out wherever needed, and to my confusion, she actually likes doing the laundry, so that works out for both of us.
“We’re almost ready to eat. Sasha’s made an Italian-themed feast for dinner: stuffed shells, homemade garlic bread from Allie, a huge garden salad, and tiramisu for dessert.” She rubs her small baby belly bump with one hand and continues to fold towels with the other.“It smells so amazing in that kitchen. I can’t get enough garlic with this pregnancy.”
My stomach growls as if in agreement. “I’m starved. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Beth’s face scrunches up in worry. “You need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You’re working too hard.”
I know she’s right, but the garden isn’t work to me, it’s my therapy. “How have you been feeling?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I’m finally past all the morning sickness and now I just feel tired sometimes, but I’m mostly doing great. I can’t believe we’re really having a baby. Evan is over the moon. He barely lets me lift a finger.”
I chuckle at Evan’s overprotectiveness. “I bet. He’s so good with Kase, I know he’s going to be such a good dad.”
Beth looks around. “Speaking of, where’s Kase?”
“He just left with Logan and Allie to play with Caleb.”
“Why don’t you go take a quick shower and I’ll finish up.” She looks around, her face taking on a look of dismay.
“What?” I laugh as she scans the chaos of the space.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but honestly, the garden shed is feeling more like an actual garden shed these days.” She laughs as she stacks a neat pile of towels onto the cart.
She’s not wrong. Every surface available is covered in starter plants under grow lights as I get ready for our spring planting. I have papers taped to the walls with colorful hand-drawn diagrams of where everything will be planted in the new gardens I already set up at the back of the property. Over the past year, I have been able to explore my passion for gardening, and I feel like I’ve finally found my purpose. When I’m not cleaning rooms at the inn or taking care of Kase, I’m reading gardening books, watching plant videos on YouTube, or researching new things to grow. It’s become a big part of my healing. When I’m with the plants, I have peace.
The garden shed, as everyone calls it, is actually a cool “barndominium”—a small barn with two levels. The stairs on the side lead to a small studio apartment I’ve made cozy with thrifted finds, DIY crafts, and a revolving selection of books I check out from the library—plus more plants. All things that make me feel cozy and happy.
I do feel a bit guilty, though, for taking over the laundry space with my plants, and I tell Beth, “I know. I’m sorry. As soon as I can get my greenhouse together, all of this will go out there.”
“Oh, I don’t mind it. It’s kind of cool, Mellie. I love seeing you so happy with all your plants. You’ve really, um, blossomed.” She says the last part with an exaggerated wink.
“You and your dad jokes.” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Yeah, and you love me.” She pulls me into a side hug.
“That I do,” I say as I hug her back.
