Page 35 of Dancing with My Elf
“That changes now.” I snapped. “What do you say? Bonsai?”
She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. “Sure, why not?”
I made a quick call and arranged for a private session at the bonsai garden. Once I gave her the location, she steered over to the highway and accelerated fast.
“Speed limits are just a suggestion to you, aren’t they?” I teased.
“Driving is my stress relief.”
“Funny, that stresses most people out.”
“During traffic, yes. But in the afternoon like this, it’s not so bad. As long as there are no idiots on the road.” She glanced over at the person she just passed. “Like that guy.”
Whatever the driver did to achieve idiot status was lost on me.
“You must have collected quite a few speeding tickets.”
She cocked her head. “Indeed.”
A new song played on the radio, Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” I sang with the intro and offered her an imaginary microphone.
She scoffed with a wave. “I’m not going to sing.”
“Zoe, it’s common knowledge that everyone in the car must sing when this song comes on,” I declared in a mock serious tone.
“According to whom?”
I grinned. “It might have been a meme.”
“Oh yes, that’s how we should all find life tips—memes,” she drawled with sarcasm.
“How about according to Lucas’s fun playbook?”
“Fine,” she replied with an exaggerated eye roll.
She sang along and a smile cracked through her serious exterior.
Anytime I saw that genuine smile, it lit me up. And when I caused it, it warmed me like a great accomplishment. I wanted to make her happy more often.
A handful of songs later, we reached the gardening center. With the snow covering the foliage on the grounds, the trees and bushes emitted a magical twinkle. We headed inside the retail shop and headed back to the bonsai center. In the first room, a dozen or so of bonsai trees of various types with green or purplish leaves were arranged in a circular design. A massive one that was a couple of centuries old sat on display in the center.
“Wow, these are amazing,” Zoe murmured. “This one is so old.”
Her awe delighted me. “I’m glad you like them.”
As we examined each of the trees, she said, “This is so cool.”
I admired a bonsai that was over a hundred years old and thought of my young one. “I took a class here last year. My bonsai is still alive, I’m happy to say.”
“That’s great.”
When Zoe tapped her lips, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Am I going to leave here with a bonsai?”
“Yes.”
She flashed a sheepish look. “I don’t have any plants. I doubt I’d be able to keep one alive.”
