Page 22 of Petals and Strings
Even if it was fleeting.
As I rounded the corner I spotted an older alpha wearing overalls and gardening gloves, welcoming everyone in with a smile on his face. He was as vibrant and inviting as the conservatory itself.
“There you are,” Theo huffed as he walked in. “It’s your group’s turn here in the conservatory. Then dinner.”
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice even and face blank. He narrowed his eyes on me for a second before glancing at his watch and hurrying out.
“Jerk,” I muttered as I joined the others.
“Don’t worry about Theo. This is the head groundskeeper, Val,” Ledger supplied when I stopped next to him. “We help take care of the plants. It’s supposed to give us purpose or something. I like it.”
He shrugged, but he also looked lighter than last time I saw him. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt like this place was healing all on its own.
“Everyone, get to weeding,” Val called out as he approached me, that grandfatherly smile firmly in place. “You must be Audrey.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, giving him a tentative smile. He might be an alpha, but he was gentle in his approach and warm in his words. Something I wasn’t used to.
“I recognized that gleam in your eyes when you walked in. It’s been a while since I’ve found someone willing to care for her like I do,” he said with a wink as he gestured around at the conservatory and her plants. “Grab you some gloves and let me give you the grand tour.”
He gestured to a bin of gardening gloves. Most were picked through, only the wild designs left behind. I picked a bright, neon rainbow pair, shaking them out just in case a spider or other bug stowed away, before I slid my hands inside.
“This is our exotic plant section,” he started, naming each one by scientific name, then common name, including a list of care instructions. I didn’t retain half of it before he was moving along. I tried my best to keep up, taking mental notes as he proudly showed off the world he’d created in there.
I’d have to ask for a list so I could research them in the library, learn what I could so I didn’t ruin anything here. It was too perfect, I couldn’t let something wither because I was careless.
Ledger joked that this place gave purpose, but I had a feeling this would be something to focus on outside of therapy and the monotony of our daily schedules.
Val finally stopped at the double glass doors in the back of the conservatory, nodding his head outside. “Now, there’s one more thing I have to show you.”
“This is incredible,” I breathed out as we stepped outside and faced the ash tree the facility got its name from. It was sturdy and solid, twisting toward the sky as the branches stretched out in twisting tendrils.
“This tree has been here for years. The old school that was here was a rebuild. It burnt down and one of the towers collapsed on it. Tore off some branches. Any other tree would be taken out but my dad convinced them not to cut it down. They rebuilt, and he gave this tree enough love for it to make a comeback. Now you’d never know its past.”
I was smart enough to read between the lines and see what he was saying to me. Was this a speech he gave everyone? Remind us broken, formerly-bonded, patients that this wasn’t the end for us, just a short phase?
Suggesting if we were nurtured and healed enough, we could be strong again?
It was quite the concept.
A sweet, naïve one.
That wasn’t how it worked in this world, or here within these walls. This alpha seemed to be just as much an oasis as the facility itself.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be safe enough to heal. They were too quick to make us compliant, submissive patients. Theo pushing me then freaking out the moment I got lost in my thoughts had shown me the true nature of therapy here.
Healing was hard and brutal, it tore you apart and made you face the darkest parts of you. Then it was a slow trudge up from the bottom, putting yourself back together again, brick by brick.
In the end, if I could handle therapy without flashbacks, maybe it would be different. Or maybe I’d be like kintsugi, put back together into something new and different, but just as beautiful, the glittering new parts enhancing who I was.
If only.
A tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped it away before offering him a fragile smile. “I hope that can be true for me, too.”
“It will be,” he said with a confidence that was painted in kindness. This older man had no doubt about it and I let that sweet, caring nature wash over me. “One of the best forms of therapy is finding peace in something new. My troubles are tilled with the soil in this conservatory and these grounds. Maybe it will be the same for you.”
“Where do I start?”
“How about in my favorite spot?” he asked. “If you’re up for some sunshine.”
