Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Surprise Garden

Amazonas, Brasil.

1982.

A cooler day than we've had in a while

The clouds, thick, grey

Heavy clouds

Ones laden with the promise of showers 

Rain that's yet to manifest

But I know it's coming

I can feel it all around

Midmorning now

And me, puttering alone in the gardens, 

Happily tugging at the rich black soil as I loosen the weeds, cast them aside into the brush

Rising from my knees to my feet, I survey the area

A modest endeavour

Nothing like my fathers's, of course

A familiar pang of longing ripples through me at that

I bite at my lip to try and stop the tears

A bit too hard, apparently

The faint taste of metal

I wipe at it but don't bother to look

Instead, I turn my eyes back to our garden

I've done well

They'd be so proud

Sighing, I drop the trowel and turn 

That's enough for today

And besides, I want to see what my loves are up to 

So up the steps I go

Bare feet gliding across the patio tiles

And into the peaceful darkness of our home

Where

The steady shaking of a rattle and his voice murmuring soft encouragements

Draws me down the hall and to our bedroom

As I make my way

I consider how completely in love with the twins he is

How he lavishes them 

From early in the morning 

When he holds them and hums

Rocks them back to sleep

To the middle of the night 

When he whispers to me 

How he'll give them all the love he never received from his own parents

I move slowly, quietly now

So that I can achieve my goal:

Standing at the threshold of our room to sneak a peek of him with them

And the sight I'm met with ...

...

There, standing at the foot of the bed,

My Love

Back to me as he coos and shakes the rattle to draw their attention upwards

Upwards, where there's a camera in his hand

And them -

He's swaddled them in matching blankets

And all around them -

All around them -

I gasp audibly as I take it in

Turning to me, he grins proudly, beckons me over, "I'd say ... I'd say I've really done something here, yes?"

I - I -

I love ...

I love, love, love -

Because all around them, he's conjured hundreds of paper flowers

Flawless recreations of those that once grew in my parent's yard

Glossy buckthorn calyxes

Clusters of ivory tinted phlox

Elegant honeysuckle trumpets

Sprigs of spiky lavender

And each petal of each flower, each leaf, each bud

He's charmed to glow and sparkle

Eyes fixed on mine, he murmurs softly:

"I've made them a garden."

No ...

It's so much more

... You've made them a dreamscape, My Love

Heart in my throat, I run towards his side

Leaning over and stroking each of their smooth cheeks

Before my fingertips graze at the sea of parchment petals across the bed

And finally, straightening up, my eyes finding his again

My awe

"My Love."

"A photoshoot," he whispers into my ear, "And a garden worthy of their names."