Here we are on the last day and I actually caught up. Phew. I think I’ve decided that flowers may not be as good as food. 😉 Many thanks to those of you who’ve supported this challenge, my challenge, even when I’ve been semi-phoning it in. I keep trying to be better, feel better, but I’m not always there and you all have been more than supportive and I owe you a lot of thanks for keeping me going.

For anyone who is interested, zinnias are one of my favorite flowers. They’re easy to grow and so vibrant. Get some seeds and sow. You’ll have a happy, colorful summer!

While the stories are linked, each is a standalone. However, if you’ve missed any and want to read them, you can catch up here.

Life Is Good

Russ stands on my doorstep with a bottle of champagne, a pot of cherry pink zinnias, and a grin that mirrors in his blue eyes. How did he remember that zinnias are my favorite flower and where on earth did he find a pot of them in September?

His eyes are dancing, so animated, and I wonder, not for the first time, how I ever walked away from him. Or did he walk away from me?

“Why champagne?” I ask. I may know why champagne is in order, but how does he?

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Something in your voice when you called made me think it might be a champagne kind of night. Was I wrong?”

I shake my head. “No. But maybe not for the reason you’re thinking.”

He laughs. “I spoke to Willow at the shop. So, I know she didn’t hire you. She did love your garden though. So do I. What is your news?”

“Have you heard of Deirdre Rains?”

He shrugs. “Actress? Celebrity chef?”

“She’s a singer. She did that ‘You Made Me Fall’ song a few months back?”

He shrugs again. “I got stuck in grunge and never dug my way out…except for Billie Eilish.”

I laugh. “You dog!”

We wander into the kitchen where he pulls the cork on the champagne as I supply the glasses. “Deirdre Rains is like, I don’t know, Lady Gaga? Except she doesn’t compose her own music.”

“Okay. Still not following as to what that has to do with you.”

“She’s going to record one of my songs and has asked for three more.”

“Your songs?” he asks, he expression flattening out.

I nod. “Yes, can you believe it?” I’m practically giddy with the thought as I sip on the effervescent champagne.

“How did I not know you wrote songs?”

“I don’t know. I was doing it while we were together.”

“I’m a right shite, aren’t I?”

I shrug. “No. You’re a left one,” I say and then laugh at my very stupid joke.

He shakes his head and then brings me in for a side hug. “Congratulations, Josie. The world is now your oyster.”

“I’d rather it be my zinnia.”

We smile at each other. Suddenly my world feels full of flowers and music and a happiness that is my own.

“To us and your music and happiness,” he says.

“To our happiness,” I say and hear a melodic tune with lyrics follow. 

Life is good. And then some.

end

Sascha Darlington

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GROWING ZINNIAS