Assortment

Tulips

You groaned as you pulled yourself into a sitting position on the mattress, your hair disheveled. You took a quick glance over at the other side of the bed, the duvet neat and the pillow untouched. His side of the bed still smelled of cedarwood and rum, with a hint of leather, as you'd kept his cologne. You still loved the smell. You sighed softly, reminiscing to yourself about the years you had with Jackson, the man you thought you would spend forever with.

It had been just around four years without him. You loved your husband, and couldn't bare to be with anyone since. You missed his touch, the sound of his voice. The way he would lovingly "crush" you to sleep, laying on top of you like a warm, manly weighted blanket. You even missed the way he would tease you.

You sighed as you got out of bed, walking to the kitchen. I should probably put some of his things in storage... at least the things I don't still use, you thought to yourself as you looked over at the sweatshirt he'd left on a dining room chair.

You made your coffee the way you liked it, then got dressed. You went out and grabbed your tools from the shed, heading down to tend to the community garden like you usually would.

Quickly getting to work, you sipped your coffee as you got rid of weeds and raked up old leaves, dumping them in the forest nearby. You picked out the trash from all the people who would carelessly throw it there, sometimes missing the trashcan, sometimes not even aiming for it.

After about an hour of work, you heard footsteps in another part of the garden. "Damn, I can't even tell what plant that's supposed to be," you heard a man's voice comment. You could detect an accent, definitely European, likely Nordic, but you weren't quite sure, you needed to hear a bit more from him.

You heard him come closer, and you turned to look at him. He had a soft expression on his face, his eyes were kind as he waved to you shyly. He had short blonde hair, tan skin, and ocean-blue eyes. He stood at around six feet tall, and had slight stubble on his face. He's easy to look at, you think to yourself as guilt sets in, feeling as if you've now slightly betrayed Jackson.

"I'm guessing you're the one trying to nurse this garden back to health? I'm Tim, I just moved here last week," he introduced himself with a smile as he reached out to shake your hand. You took his hand and shook it gently.

"I'm Y/n, I come here to garden two or three times a week, depending on the weather," you introduced yourself in turn, confirming his guess.

"Ah, well, it's nice to meet you, have you lived here a while?" he asked, making small talk. You nodded as you continued working. "About five years," you replied honestly.

"Oh, wow, you must really know the place then," Tim replied. "Can I help you with some of this? I'm not the best at gardening, but I know a thing or two."

You nodded and handed him a trowel. "Can you plant some of these tulip bulbs? I've got newspaper to prevent squirrels from eating the bulbs, wrap them in that," you instructed with a smile as you moved the carton of bulbs over to his area of the garden.

"Yeah, I've got it," he replied softly. "Where are you from, I'm picking up an accent that sounds Nordic, but I'm not quite sure," you asked curiously as the two of you worked together on the garden. "I'm from Stockholm," Tim replied as he dug spots for the Tulip bulbs, the smell of the dirt becoming more prevalent.

"Are you originally from around here?" Tim asked in turn. "I moved here with my- I moved here from a small town outside Sacramento, after getting my degree as an ESL tutor," you replied honestly, hesitating as you restrict your instinct to mention your husband. Tim seemed not to notice, wrapping the bulbs in newspaper like you showed him. The crinkling filled up the silence, making it seem all the more deafening to you.