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A LITTLE PATCH OF GREEN
Victoria Chatham
If asked, Adele Fisher
would have replied yes, of course she was happy. But lately, a nagging doubt
had crept into her solitary lifestyle. She enjoyed her work, knowing exactly
what she would do each day, and did not let anything disturb the balance of her
daily routine.
And maybe that was it,
she thought. She existed rather than truly lived. Life simply passed her by. It
was as if she were moored in some quiet backwater while, beyond her, a river of
excitement rushed past in full flood.
She pondered this as she
walked through the park from her apartment to the offices of Simpson Sellers,
Architects, where she had worked as an office administrator for the past eight
years.
Each morning, more of
the park looked fresher and tidier. At first, Adele barely noticed the
landscapers, thinking that they, like her, were heading to work. It took her a
few mornings to realise they had already been working, probably even before her
alarm woke her from a cosy sleep.
She began searching for
the two businesslike young women who were engrossed in the task of bringing
life to bare patches of earth. They both wore white T-shirts and blue jeans,
but that was where all resemblance ended. One was tall, blonde, and
serious-looking. The other was shorter, red-haired, and hummed and sang while
she worked, regardless of who might be passing by.
Adele did not usually
speak to anyone as she walked, since she was not, as she put it, a morning
person. She preferred to be left alone until after her second cup of coffee at
ten-thirty, but there was something infectious about the cheerful redhead.
Adele looked for her, caught her eye, nodded, and said “good morning”. In
return, she received a broad smile and a cheery wave.
Somehow Adele felt brighter,
lighter. She stepped out a little more confidently and arrived at her office a
full five minutes earlier than usual. Slightly infected by the redhead’s
cheerfulness, she hummed to herself as she removed her coat and hung it on her
hanger in the staff closet. She la-lahed her way to the coffee machine and
poured her first cup, unaware that she was receiving some curious glances from
her junior colleagues.
Adele took her coffee to
her office. Her seniority in the company granted her the advantage of having an
outside office with a window. She did not often bother to look out of it,
preferring instead to sit at her desk and start work immediately. But this
morning, she was drawn to it and looked down into the street. The traffic
crawled to a halt as the lights changed, and people scurried along the
sidewalks.
What are they thinking
about? she asked herself. Are they planning their days, recalling what they did
the previous evening, or perhaps looking forward to meeting a friend for lunch?
It occurred to her that,
compared to the hustle below her, her life was unbearably dull. From Monday to
Thursday, she worked from eight-thirty in the morning until five o’clock in the
afternoon, and on Fridays, she finished at four. On Saturdays, she cleaned her apartment,
did her laundry, and shopped for groceries. Sunday was her catch-up day, when
she made a full pot of coffee and opened all the mail received during the week,
answering, paying, or discarding it. After a light lunch, she might read a book
from the library or magazines picked up from the grocery store. If the weather
was fine, she would take a walk or sit on her balcony. In the evening, she
watched some TV—if there were programmes that interested her—then would run a
bath and soak in it. It refreshed and revived her, preparing her for another
week at work.
As she mentally reviewed
her routine, Adele felt she should fall asleep standing up. When had she
allowed herself to fall into such a rut? More to the point, why had she? Her
life seemed dull, colourless, as empty as the wind-swept prairie from which she
thought she had escaped. ‘Small town girl makes good’ had been the motto in her
mind when city life beckoned, promising better things ahead. She worked
tirelessly, took one educational course after another, and climbed her
particular ladder. She was so busy studying and working that there never seemed
to be time to accept the offer of coffee with a neighbour or a movie with
someone from the office. Over time, the invitations gradually ceased.
She now thought that it
would make little difference to the staff at Simpson Sellers whether she was
there or not. Perhaps she should take some time off. That might clear away her
mental cobwebs. If she just stepped off her particular roundabout for a short
while, she might feel refreshed, less jaded, and discontented. Adele checked
her wall calendar.
Her bosses, Henry
Simpson and Jonathan Sellers, had no major meetings scheduled the following
week. The junior architects Kirk, Taryn, Mike, and Boyd were all out of town
working on various projects and would definitely not need her. In fact, it was
not necessary for her to be there at all.
She picked up
yesterday’s letters and took them to Henry’s office for his signature.
“Thanks, ‘Del.” He
barely looked up.
“Think nothing of it,
Henry. By the way, I won’t be here next week.”
“Eh?” Henry’s handsome
head swung up. “Won’t be here? How come?”
“I’m taking a break. I
think I need it.”
“Oh, well, I suppose
that’s all right.” Henry frowned. “When was the last time you had time off?”
“Two extra days at New
Year, and before that?” Adele’s brow creased in thought as she frowned. “I
honestly can’t remember. Shall I ask Kelly from reception to help with some of
your workload?”
“God, no.” Henry
shuddered. “Get someone from Super Supply. I don’t want to deal with the mess
Kelly will make, nor will you when you come back.” Henry looked at her
suspiciously. “You are coming back?”
Adele giggled. “Of
course! It’s just a week’s holiday, Henry, nothing sinister, I assure you.”
“Hmm. Well, okay. But
what will you do?” Henry, a self-confessed workaholic, would only ever tear
himself away from his drawing board for the odd round of business-oriented
golf.
Adele thought of the
colourful spots appearing in the park and immediately knew what she would do.
She smiled and said, “I’m going to plant a garden.”
“Where?” Henry was again
suspicious. “Don’t you live in a high-rise? Forteenth floor or something? How
can you plant a garden there?”
“You’ll just have to
wait and see, Henry. When it’s done, I’m going to have a garden party and I’ll
invite you and Jonathan and a few of my neighbours.”
With that, Adele swirled
out of his office.
Oh Lord, what have I
done, she thought. Why did I open my big mouth?
Her only attempt at
growing anything had been an unsuccessful Grade 4 science project. Her
carefully planted apple pips failed to respond to her daily nurturing, and she
was never sure if she had looked after them too carefully or not carefully
enough. Her daily log entries had been as barren as the little pots on her
windowsill. Now she had committed herself to planting a garden.
On Thursday night, Adele
reset her alarm clock. She planned to wake up twenty minutes earlier on Friday
morning. After giving it considerable thought, she realised the answer was
right in front of her. Talk to the landscapers in the park. It wasn’t as if she
would ask them to do it for her; she would just seek some advice about which
plants might be best and where she should buy them. She showered and dressed
with more purpose than she had in a long time. Goodness, she almost felt
excited. She strode briskly across the park searching for the two girls and
soon spotted them unloading trays of plants from a truck bed.
“Good morning,” Adele
said.
Both girls turned to
face her.
“Hi,” they replied. The
simple greeting sounded like a carefully rehearsed chorus. They looked at her
expectantly.
“I hope you don’t mind,
but...” Adele suddenly felt unsure of herself.
“Yes?” the blonde girl
prompted, clearly eager to get on with her work.
Adele introduced
herself.
“I’m Adele Fisher,” she
said. “I’m at 1402 Park View apartments, and I want to brighten up my balcony.
I thought about getting some plants, but I’m not sure which would be best.
Would you mind recommending something bright and cheerful that wouldn’t mind
living up there with me?”
Both girls turned
towards the apartment building and looked up. The redhead smiled. “Your balcony
faces west. Fill it with geraniums. Red, white, pink. All they need is sun and
not too much water. They’ll look lovely.”
“Merle, don’t forget
petunias and marigolds.”
“Mm.” Merle nodded in
agreement. “Got a car?”
Adele said yes, she did.
“Then take a run out of
town to Amberside Nurseries. Ask for Patrick and tell him Merle and Tanya sent
you. He’ll look after you, probably give you a good discount too.”
Adele smiled. “I’ll do
that. Thanks very much, and when it’s done, you’ll have to come to my garden
party.”
“That’ll be neat,” Merle
said. “Thanks, Adele, we’ll look forward to it.”
The day stretched out
before her. For once, Adele couldn't wait for it to end. She planned the week
ahead with Henry, quietly delighting in his consternation at what he saw as her
neglect of duties. That alone gave her a boost. She was doing something
unexpected, extraordinary. For once, she was making waves, as Kelly would say.
A bubble of amusement rose within her and escaped as a giggle. She couldn't
remember the last time she had felt like this.
During that week, she
bought various gardening magazines and became intrigued by the different sizes and
styles of tubs and planters. She thought she might even add a water garden,
just a small one, naturally, but it would enhance the ambiance. Garden
furniture would be enjoyable, especially if she planned to invite people to
share in it. She chose a few select pieces, wicker rather than plastic, and
instead of one large table that could be cumbersome, she decided on several
small side tables.
Armed with a rough idea
of what might work, she set out of town on Saturday morning to the garden
centre. The sky was a clear blue, with a slight breeze that swept away all but
a few high, wispy clouds. Merle’s directions were straightforward, and Adele
was soon driving through the entrance of Amberside Nurseries. She wandered
among stands of bedding plants, shrubs, and baskets — a confusing array of pots
and planters in all shapes, colours, and sizes. She found a bench to sit on and
gather her thoughts.
“Need some help?” A
tall, slender man with a warm smile on his tanned face approached her.
Adele smiled in return.
The Adele of last week might have said, “No, thank you." The Adele of this
week said, “Oh, yes, please. I’m here to see Patrick. Merle and Tanya
recommended him.”
“That was kind of them.
I’m Patrick. How can I help you?”
Adele showed him her
sketch and saw an expression of interest light up his lean face as he studied
it.
“You’re really going all
out on this, aren’t you?” he said.
“It’s time for a change,”
Adele replied quietly.
Patrick marked her
measurements on the pavement inside the greenhouse and arranged pots, planters,
and furniture so she could better visualise how everything would look. She had
even chosen a wooden, plastic-lined half barrel fitted with a bamboo spout and
circulating pump. It was just deep enough for a water lily and a couple of goldfish,
making it surely a conversation starter.
Before Adele knew it,
the afternoon had flown past and her purchases filled two carts. Patrick asked
her how she planned to get it all back to town.
“Goodness, I didn’t
think of that,” she said. “I didn’t expect to get so much.”
“Tell you what. I’ll
load it all onto my truck and follow you back. How would that do?” More than
friendly interest shone in Patrick’s gentle brown eyes.
Something stirred in
Adele Fisher’s heart, and a gentle smile spread across her face. “Thank you,
Patrick. That would be very helpful.”
Patrick nodded, clearly
pleased.
“And perhaps,” Adele
added, surprising herself with her boldness, “you’d like to help me with my
little patch of green?”
The smile Patrick gave
her made her breath catch in her throat.
“I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like that very
much.”
She sensed the undertone
in his voice, and in that exhilarating moment, Adele Fisher realised that life
was no longer passing her by.
END
