She wanted to be an actress. She was the lead in all the school plays. She was such a natural. She was made to be on screen. It helped that Lucas was a good friend of hers. They were both meant to be famous. It was set in stone kind of. But then they both died. For doing something they shouldn’t have done. She should have helped me. But she stood there doing nothing. Waiting for Lucas.
I wipe the sweat off my brow. It was finally summer and really hot,
“Hey no slacking off.” Rachel’s mother said jokingly. I smile at her,
“Don’t worry, Ms. Harris, I would never slack off.” She groans,
“Hope, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Diane. Ms. Harris makes me sound old.” I laugh at that,
“Okay, Diane. Sorry.” I put a tulip into the ground and cover the roots with dirt. We were gardening in her backyard. Ms. Harris…Diane had changed a lot. She still was upset about Rachel’s death but she was starting to live again. Just like how Rachel wanted. Diane got a job and cleaned up. I came over a couple times a week. We both needed each other. She was helping me and I was helping her.
She gets up and brushes the dirt of her knees, “I’ll go get some lemonade and cookies from the kitchen.” I nod my head continuing putting the tulips into the ground. I reach for the watering can and pour some water onto the plants. I get up and look at my work. It wasn’t exactly perfect. But it wasn’t really bad either. My row of tulips wasn’t in a row. It was kind of all over the place. Diane comes back with the lemonade and cookies. She puts it down and stands next to me. She bursts out laughing making me blush,
“It’s not that bad.” I mutter,
“It’s not. Oh sweetie I’m sorry.” She doesn’t stop laughing,
“It is bad.” I say laughing along with her, “It’s really bad.” I say in between laughs. We laugh until tears fall from out eyes,
“Oh, Rach.” She says. I freeze. She doesn’t realize what she said. And when she does she freezes as well,
“I’m not Rachel.” I tell her,
“I know, Hope. We would garden together and…” she sighs, “I just miss her so much.”
“Ms.Harris,” I begin,
“Diane.” She interrupts,
“Diane, I’m not trying to replace…her. I don’t want to replace her. I’m not this new her. I never was.” I sputter out,
“I know, sweetie. It’s just so hard sometimes. And I thank God everyday for you. If it weren’t for you I would still be a mean old drunk.” She touches my cheek in a motherly way, “Thank you, Hope. For rescuing me.” I smile at her. I pull off my gloves,
“I should go.” I tell her grabbing my bag,
