English Version: Dandelions in the Wind

48

"Clarissa, see how the fronds are unfolding? This variety needs just the right amount of humidity and indirect light," Margaret said with a smile as they both observed the orchid before them. The orchid's delicate petals, a blend of pink and white, were beginning to unfurl. They were inside the greenhouse, and the warm, earthy scent of soil and plants filled the air. Margaret carefully wiped the long, glossy leaves with a clean cloth, ensuring no dust hindered their growth.

"Plants thrive when properly cared for. It's not too hot yet this summer," Clarissa agreed, her eyes scanning the rows of vibrant greenery. She wore rubber gloves and added fertilizer to a pot. "Too much heat can damage the leaves," she said, her voice thoughtful as she worked.

A fresh breeze blew through the greenhouse, rustling the leaves and disturbing some butterflies flying inside. Their colorful wings fluttered as they sought new perches. Margaret glanced at Clarissa, her brow furrowing slightly. "Did Charlotte come home last night?" she asked with concern, as Charlotte usually arrived early when coming home to the villa.

Clarissa nodded, her expression reassuring. "She got in late last night, but she made her flight. Marcus also mentioned he would arrive tomorrow," she reported, her voice steady and calm.

Margaret's concern turned into a smile upon hearing the news. "It's good they decided to spend the weekend at the villa. This place always brings a sense of calm and rejuvenation," she said, her gaze drifting to the lush foliage surrounding them.

"Mom! Are you here?" Charlotte's voice called from the entrance of the greenhouse.

"We're here in the back, sweetie!" Margaret replied, her voice echoing through the rows of lush plants that obscured their view from the door. They were at the far end of the greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant greenery.

"I'm going to the orchard garden to add some fertilizer," Clarissa said as she prepared to leave, brushing some dirt off her gloves.

Margaret smiled and nodded. "You go ahead then; see you later."

Clarissa exited through the side door, the gentle creak of the hinges mingling with the sounds of nature. She missed Charlotte's arrival by moments, her silhouette disappearing into the bright sunlight outside.

"Honey, are you okay? You look tired. Did you sleep well last night?" Margaret asked with concern, noticing the weariness on Charlotte's face and her slightly swollen eyes. Charlotte sneezed, a slight, sudden sound that broke the quiet, and she quickly wiped her nose with a handkerchief.

"I can't sleep well. I'm having trouble sleeping," Charlotte admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she sank onto the wooden bench before Margaret.

Margaret stopped cleaning the leaves of the orchid and placed the cloth on the nearby table. "Is this about your wedding? Maybe you should take a rest. It's just a small gathering, sweetie. There's nothing much to worry about. I think your wedding planner must have loved you," Margaret said kindly, applying some alcohol to her hands from a small bottle she kept in her apron pocket. "You didn't turn out to be a bridezilla; your wedding planner must be having a field day," she added with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She then turned her attention to spraying a nearby rose plant with water from a small container, the fine mist settling gently on the delicate petals.

Charlotte leaned back on the bench, her legs crossed awkwardly beneath her. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed deeply, her head bowed. It was clear she was lost in thought. "It's not about the wedding. I'm not excited to get married, Mom," Charlotte confessed softly. "What if I told you I don't want to get married? That this is not the kind of life I want?" She spoke with her head down, unable to meet Margaret's gaze, choosing instead to look away. "I don't want to marry him."