Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
N athan squinted up at the cloudy sky as a few tiny rain droplets tickled his skin. C’mon, make up your mind . It had been doing that all day, a tiny sprinkling of rain here and there, then nothing. At least it meant he could finish his work day without getting wet, but it would be great to get some rain too.
He continued digging out the hole in the soil with his hand shovel, then scooped away some extra with his gloved hands to get the right shape and depth. He only used tools when needed, and much preferred getting stuck in with his own hands… there was something satisfying about tending to the garden in a natural way, and feeling the earth beneath his fingertips. It helped him feel connected. He couldn’t connect to his family’s roots to gain a sense of belonging, but he could connect with Mother Nature’s.
The front gate clanged, and he turned to see Penny’s daughter, Jessie, skipping into the yard in her school uniform. Penny waved beyond the fence as she got out of her car with Dane. He waved to both, and Jessie smiled and stopped under the willow tree in the front corner of the property, the leaves draped over the side fence. He’d hardly seen anyone else all day, with school back the kids weren’t frolicking in the gardens until late afternoon, and Lacie hadn’t had her morning visit to her bedroom patio. Martha had brought him out a muffin at 10am, but had scurried back inside quickly. He assumed they were simply making the most of family time with Lacie’s impending departure in less than two days. Yes, he was counting. Although their interactions had only been going on a short time, each was increasingly pleasurable in an indefinable way. Somehow, she brought out the chatterbox in him, whereas usually, he’d be the observer, giving an occasional remark when appropriate.
Jessie dumped her schoolbag on the ground and eagerly rummaged through it, extracting a brown paper bag and tipping the contents onto the grass.
He narrowed his gaze in curiosity. ‘Are you taking over my job, Miss Jessie?’ he asked in a playful tone.
‘No! I’m a kid, not a gardener.’ She giggled. ‘I made these at school today, come and look.’
He took off his gloves and accepted her invitation, and walked towards her. He was never one to get in the way of a child who looked like they were on an exciting mission, unless they showed interest, remembering what it had been like for him as a kid, getting into the zone where the outside world no longer mattered and everything revolved around the fun he was creating with his imagination.
She held up one of the smooth, coloured pebbles, ‘Jessie’ written on it. ‘My teacher helped us paint pebbles, and I made pebble names for the whole family. I’m going to make them into a family tree right here!’ She pointed to the patch of grass at the base of the willow tree.
‘What an awesome idea.’ Nathan crouched and picked up the pebble with her brother’s name on it. Then his gaze caught a movement to his right, where Penny was peeking through the gate as though to check on Jessie. Nathan gave a thumbs up to say all good and she waved and disappeared towards the front of the house. ‘You’ve done a great job with the lettering. Neater than my handwriting, that’s for sure.’
‘We used paint pens. Then to protect them from rain, my teacher grazed them.’
Nathan frowned. ‘Grazed?’ Then his face softened. ‘Ah, you mean glazed .’
She nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the mispronunciation, and too busy arranging the pebbles.
‘I just need some sticks for the branches, and something for the trunk.’ Her gaze darted around. She picked up a twig, then got up to search further.
‘Here, I’ll help,’ he said, checking his watch on standing to make sure he kept track of time and stayed a bit longer to account for his hourly pay.
He found some loose bark from another tree and pulled a bit off. ‘Will this make a good tree trunk?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ she exclaimed, taking it and placing it down under the willow tree.
They gathered a few extra twigs for the branches, and Jessie placed them around the top and sides of the bark, before adding her mother’s and father’s pebbles next to one of the twigs. She added her and Dane’s pebbles underneath.
‘My teacher said I had too many pebbles, until I told her what I was making and then she let me have them all.’ She looked at Nathan with a satisfied smile.
‘I hope there were some left for the other students to paint.’ He winked.
‘Yes, there was a whole box of them.’ She picked up two that simply had the letter A on each. ‘I didn’t have much room for Anastasia’s name so I just put A, and then I didn’t want her to feel left out so I gave Allana one with A too.’
Nathan wracked his brain until he remembered Martha’s son Chris had two stepdaughters.
Jessie arranged, then unarranged the pebbles, her brow furrowing. ‘I can’t remember where they go.’
Nathan knelt in front of the tree. ‘How about we start at the top? With your grandma and grandpa.’
Jessie nodded and placed the pebbles with Martha and Edward at the top of the makeshift tree. Jessie giggled. ‘Martha and Edward,’ she said in a posh voice. ‘My teacher said I should use their proper names. But Grandpa, I mean Edward, isn’t alive anymore. But she said I should still give him a pebble.’
Nathan’s heart sank. Death was such a difficult yet inevitable thing for children to have to understand and accept. ‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘Even those who aren’t around always live on in your heart. And your memories.’
‘Is your grandpa alive?’ she asked him.
Nathan sat back on his heels. ‘No. I don’t think so. Well, I don’t really have a grandpa.’
‘Oh.’ Jessie frowned. ‘What about a dad?’
Nathan exhaled. Kids conversations could get tricky, and he didn’t want to burden the girl with the complexities of his upbringing. ‘Not anymore, unfortunately. But hey, you are lucky to have yours. Steve, I see.’
‘Yes.’ She laughed. ‘Steve!’ she said in a masculine voice.
He helped her correctly place the remaining family members’ pebbles, his eyes lingering on Lacie’s and the empty space next to hers. Ellie’s was also on its own. He scanned the complete family tree and shook his head in awe. Nathan’s family tree, if he made one, would only have one pebble. He could add his mum of course, but he barely remembered her. He wondered what she was like before she got into trouble and her life went downhill. There was no one to tell him funny anecdotes, or stories of times gone by. Moist sprinkles on his forearms brought him back to the present moment, and he glanced up.
‘Is it raining?’ Jessie asked. ‘Will the pebbles get washed away?’
‘No, it’s just sprinkling. They should be fine here under this tree, but sometimes bugs and little creatures like lizards like to crawl on things like twigs and rocks, so keep an eye on it regularly in case you have to tidy it up a bit.’
She nodded.
‘Would you like me to take a photo of it so you always remember the correct arrangement just in case?’
‘Yes please!’
Nathan snapped a photo, showed Jessie, then texted it to Martha. ‘Well, Miss Jessie, I better finish up my work for the day before it gets dark and cold.’
‘Okay.’ She jumped up onto her feet in one swift movement. Oh, to have the limber joints of a seven-year-old. ‘What are you planting?’
He walked over to the three holes in the soil he had prepared, put his gloves back on, and picked up one of the small olive trees. ‘Well,’ he said, in a documentary-worthy voice, ‘here I have an olive tree, or, olea europaea , to be exact.’ He pointed to the roots. ‘These need to burrow deep into the soil to get nutrients, so the tree can grow.’ He placed the tree into the first hole and filled the gaps with soil, patting it down until it was secure.
‘Wow, that was quick,’ she said.
‘Yep. I did most of the work beforehand, and the tree had first grown in a pot, so it’s already started, and now it’ll get a bit bigger.’ He realised he had forgotten to continue in his documentary voice. He cleared his throat. ‘And now… for the next one.’
He did the same, this time encouraging Jessie to hold the trunk of the small tree as he compacted the soil around the roots.
‘What is the middle one?’ she asked.
‘That, young lass, is a fig tree. Or, ficus carica .’
Jessie giggled at his David Attenborough impersonation and the strange tree name.
He planted the tree with Jessie’s help, and she asked, ‘Are you going to put more trees in between them?’
‘No, you see… trees need room to grow, and for their roots to lengthen underground. However,’ he held up his pointer finger, and continued in his accent, ‘in the next few days, I will plant some marigolds, also known as tagetes , underneath the trees, because they deter unwelcome bugs and insects, and can prevent the fruit on the trees from being spoiled .’ He made sure to emphasise certain words to give his impersonation more credibility, even though he didn’t know if Jessie knew who the legend was. ‘Plus, they add a bright burst of orange colours to the garden.’
Jessie’s eyes widened. ‘Orange is my second favourite colour!’
‘It is? And what is your first?’
‘Red! Like roses. Roses have thorns to stop the bugs getting to the top.’
Nathan smiled and took off his hat. He placed it on her head. ‘I now declare you, Miss Jessie,’ he resumed his impersonation, ‘the second-best gardener at…’ he held his arms out to the sides as though on a stage, ‘South Haven!’
The girl exploded into laughter and bowed as he clapped.
More clapping sounded, and both Nathan and Jessie turned around to see Penny, Martha, and Lacie watching them with delighted grins from the side door. Warmth crept onto Nathan’s cheeks, and he wished he had his hat on to shade his face. Lacie caught his eye and although she grinned too, it soon faded into a smile that looked more… bittersweet.