She rolled her eyes at him the way she used to when they were fourteen and he told her he could make anything grow and always did. "That's obvious Garland. But that's not what I'm implying."
They sat together in the dirt like they had for years and years and years, their palms pressed onto the cool ground, their fingers stained as they dug small holes and gently thrust the tulip bulbs into them. It was simple repetition for them, they had done it so many times before.
They had done everything together before.
Emma pressed her hands against her thighs and looked directly at him. "I'm on the one who needs this. I need you to fulfill the order."
He kept digging. "I will fulfill it Emma." Still digging. "But I will fulfill it under the rules of our contract."
"What if I want a new contract?" She looked away now. "What if I want to renegotiate?"
Garland bent over, his forearms straining as he pulled the pile of dirt forward and spread it over the bulbs. "We agreed years ago Emma. I'm not going to renegotiate just because of your conscience."
"What if you don't make the quota?"
"I will."
"What if you don't?"
"I will."
He was insufferable. She was sweeter than ever. They were facing one another, no longer digging side-by-side, but their foreheads almost touching as they leaned forward.
"What if you don't make the quota?"
"I will."
"What if you don't?"
"I will."
He was insufferable. She was sweeter than ever. They were facing one another, no longer digging side-by-side, but their foreheads almost touching as they leaned forward.
"I"m just offering a little helping hand, some support," she said at the dirt, not willing to look at his face for fear of outright rejection.
"And I'm appreciative," he told her with his kindest voice, "but I don't need any help Emma."
He saw the tear slide down her cheek and fall onto her hand as she continued to dig. But these were his struggles, and though they were close as a brother a sister, his struggles were his struggles. Garland was never the sort of man who would pile his hardships on another's shoulders simply for the sake of doing so. He was a storm-weatherer, an uncanny tulip grower with tough skin. He stopped digging and pressed his hands on top of hers. "I'll be fine Emma. I promise."
She looked up at him, her hot breath on his face and silent tears leaving trails on her dirty cheeks. "I wish I could believe that."
He closed the space between their foreheads and pressed his against hers in a gentle manner. "You care too much."
It took her a moment to compose herself, he was so close to her face. Their lips so near. Never in the twenty years they had known one another had their lips been that close. She was undone. She pulled away, with a harsh movement that she knew she would regret later that night as she laid in bed and tossed, unable to sleep and thinking about his skin on hers. "I don't. Not really. I just want my order, else I'll have some very angry brides this spring."
He saw the tear slide down her cheek and fall onto her hand as she continued to dig. But these were his struggles, and though they were close as a brother a sister, his struggles were his struggles. Garland was never the sort of man who would pile his hardships on another's shoulders simply for the sake of doing so. He was a storm-weatherer, an uncanny tulip grower with tough skin. He stopped digging and pressed his hands on top of hers. "I'll be fine Emma. I promise."
She looked up at him, her hot breath on his face and silent tears leaving trails on her dirty cheeks. "I wish I could believe that."
He closed the space between their foreheads and pressed his against hers in a gentle manner. "You care too much."
It took her a moment to compose herself, he was so close to her face. Their lips so near. Never in the twenty years they had known one another had their lips been that close. She was undone. She pulled away, with a harsh movement that she knew she would regret later that night as she laid in bed and tossed, unable to sleep and thinking about his skin on hers. "I don't. Not really. I just want my order, else I'll have some very angry brides this spring."
Garland laughed. Whether out of embarrassment or just because she couldn't be sure. "Of course." He pressed his hands back into the dirt, away from her, away from the air and the oxygen around her. He suffocated his hands in the earth the way he felt like she was suffocating him with her constant denial of his feelings. "The tulips are your greatest concern. That's why you're crying as you try to make a professional business transaction with me."
She wiped her eyes and laid down on the dirty earth, pressing her head to the ground and leaving her face upwards to the grey sky. "You're insufferable," she told the vast expanse above her.
Garland continued to dig. If he was insufferable, she was stubborn. And a heartbreaker. Laying there on his land next to the bulbs they had always planted together with her chest rising and falling angrily and dirt smeared all over her thighs, she was a heartbreaker. She did this every year, came and broke his heart and refused him.
Garland didn't know it then, as he pressed another bulb into the ground and eyed the woman laying front of him with an aching desperation that spoke of years of chasing, this year would be different.
Heartbreak would be no more.
Love was to abound.
She wiped her eyes and laid down on the dirty earth, pressing her head to the ground and leaving her face upwards to the grey sky. "You're insufferable," she told the vast expanse above her.
Garland continued to dig. If he was insufferable, she was stubborn. And a heartbreaker. Laying there on his land next to the bulbs they had always planted together with her chest rising and falling angrily and dirt smeared all over her thighs, she was a heartbreaker. She did this every year, came and broke his heart and refused him.
Garland didn't know it then, as he pressed another bulb into the ground and eyed the woman laying front of him with an aching desperation that spoke of years of chasing, this year would be different.
Heartbreak would be no more.
Love was to abound.
He couldn't know that though. After all, things looked exceptionally bleak and they sky was very grey that morning. One never suspects good things on a grey day. It's contrary.
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