Charlie~~
The garden shop is up near the conservatory, outside of the more developed part of Somnia. I pull into the parking lot, having chosen to take my car for its trunk space. There are only five other cars in the lot. The shop occupies its own plot of land with a greenhouse attached to the back. Though Dad has no reason to be watching this store, I do a sweep for any mics or cameras when I walk inside. I find none.
Moving through the small shop, I check for Nora in the aisles but don't find her. She never told me how she plans to get here. I've been assuming the subway. One aisle is full of gardening supplies. Another seed packets. I move to the back where the greenhouse with potted flowers is located.
I spot petunias and begonias before I come to the chrysanthemums. Listening to Nora describe her and her mom planting them, I couldn't picture my own mom and myself in their place. Maybe that's only because she left my life so soon. Maybe if we had had more time, Dad would have let us plant them somewhere in the woods that I know surround the facility. The glimpses I've caught of them when the lobby doors open are the only reason I know they are there. Those doors are my only glimpse into the outside world.
The door chimes and moments later, Nora steps into the greenhouse. She freezes when she sees me, as if she's startled. Her eyes narrow before she moves off toward the mandevillas.
I turn my focus onto a cart of succulents, some are pointy, others look like twigs. Some have a blue and purple color that reminds me of a bruise. Nora actually looked displeased to see me, and though I know it's only an act to be safe—that she's good at lying with not only her words but her actions as well because I've witnessed it—her glower still leaves a pit in my stomach. It reminded me too much of what her feelings about me were only days ago.
I select a yellow succulent that looks as if it's made out of puff balls and walk down the row in front of hers.
"Nora." There's a bit of joy in my voice that I know shouldn't be there.
She turns away from a mandevilla plant she was admiring, her light blue eyes meeting mine with a touch of what I'd almost call tenderness before they harden.
When Radia was taken by Dad, I read her file. She was studying to become an actress. Perhaps that should have been Nora's calling as well.
"There aren't any," I say, meaning the mics and cameras.
Her shoulders relax, and her eyes soften. "Hi."
"Hi, Nora." I balance the succulent in its small pot in the palm of my hand. "I don't know if the others work for him." My eyes flick to a patron entering the greenhouse. The woman glances at us, and Nora offers her a smile and turns back to the mandevillas, the petals of the plant her hand hovers over are a shade of pink that reminds me of the fairy floss in my circus.
Touching one of those petals, she muses, "It's as if we were lovers having an affair."
I nearly choke, the pot in my hand wobbling. I have to grab it with my other hand to keep it from falling.
The patron side eyes me before moving to the back of the greenhouse.
Nora glances over her shoulder at me. "Everything all right?"
"Yep." I set the succulent down on the table beside the geraniums, trying to force out the images of us her words brought forth.
There's something devious in her eyes that says she knows exactly why my words were a lie, and I become convinced she's trying to get me back for not telling her she was in a dream and that I've become trapped in a very drawn-out plot for revenge.
And somehow I'm completely fine with that.
Without a word, she leaves the aisle and drifts to the chrysanthemums, becoming absorbed in studying them, her focus on some that are light and dark purple. Using her distraction, I sneak up behind her and say, "Are you going to delight me with one of your atrocious combinations of flowers?"
She startles, backing into me. My arms go out to steady her, but before they touch her, she jerks away. "Sorry," she says.
"I was the one who scared you." I slip around her and study the selection of flowers.
"Right." Tucking her brown hair behind her ears, she points at a cluster of dark red chrysanthemums. "Those. And"—she taps her finger against her jaw—"those." She picks up two pots of the flowers in orange, and I grab two pots of red ones.
"How many do you need?"
"Four more of each."
"I brought my car so I can bring them to your house if you want to go ahead and go." If she rides with me, it's almost guaranteed that someone who works for Dad is sure to see us. Unless she were to hide in the backseat, but that's not the most comfortable spot.
"I need to pay for them first."
"I'll take care of it. Consider it a severance."
"I quit."
I hold my finger up to my lips. "No one has to know."
She hesitates before finally saying, "Well thank you. Do you want help loading your car?"
"Too risky." Especially if I'm already taking the chance of being spotted by spending time in her front yard.
"I'll get the shovels then." Keeping herself angled toward me and the table, she conjures a small shovel in her hand.
I snort. "They're going to think you stole that. Do you know how to get rid of it?"
"Like unconjure it?"
I nod.
"No, but"—she stares down at it, her brow drawing together—"I would think I'd just have to picture my hand"—the shovel vanishes—"empty."
"I'd applaud you, but my hands are a bit occupied."
Nora opens her mouth to say something but closes it. A moment later the woman walks by us, headed back into the main part of the store. Nora nods to me and follows in the direction of the woman.
*****
As I park in Nora's empty driveway, I can't help wondering if she'll ever be interested in getting a car. She'll always know that she's dreaming, but unless she tries to make some semblance of a life here, she'll always be miserable.
Her front door opens, and Nora steps outside.
"I thought you were taking the subway."
She shrugs. "I started off taking it and then I found a place I could rift from."
"Don't tell me you're becoming addicted. Or worse yet, reliant."
She rolls her eyes, coming down the steps. "Very funny."
Together we unload her car, bringing the flowers to the section of her house where she wants to plant them. There I find two shovels waiting, similar to the one she conjured in the store. We set to work, her digging the holes and me lifting the chrysanthemums out of the pot and into the holes.
I have the next bunch of chrysanthemums ready to plant before she is done digging. When she draws her hand back, my hand brushes hers as I lower my hands to place the flowers into the ground. I tense, expecting her to pull away, but she doesn't. She lifts her eyes to mine, her cheeks reddening. Blushing from the girl who made the comment that we were acting like lovers?
"So a circus." She slowly moves her hand away, digging the shovel into the ground in a new spot. "What are your other menageries?"
"A jungle and a ski lodge."
"How did you decide on those?"
"Somnia doesn't have any mountains or jungles. Have you . . . When you were awake, did you ever see a mountain or jungle?"
"I've been to the mountains a few times."
"Would you want to see another menagerie tomorrow?"
She pats the dirt around one of the bunches of chrysanthemums I planted. "I'd love that."
At this point, chrysanthemum petals should really be on the cover of the book.