79: garden

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            Cece creeps up the clover lawn to join me by the pond. Their ability to be quieter than a shadow is champion when we're trying not to startle wildlife. He crouches beside me to peer into the tiny pond I built last summer to grin at the sight of tadpoles weaving between the pondweeds and rocks. The piercings in his cheeks dig in like dimples, just as innocent.

'I knew Bani would like it here.'

'Bani?' I ask.

'After the Chobani yoghurt tub I brought her in.'

My cheeks ache from my smile as I turn back to the pond. What a stupid name. It's perfect.

I lower my palm into it and the tadpoles disperse but I keep still and, eventually, they dare back into my proximity. I catch two for us to see up close.

Cece pets one with a single finger. 'They're so cute.'

Esther's snout pokes between our heads to inspect the tadpoles, eyes cold, clearly not seeing what could possibly be so cute about slimy and squirming boba pearls. I lower them back into the water and they're lost into the mass of their peers.

Cece continues to watch the babies swim while I sit up to watch him instead. Esther eventually gets too jealous and nudges their cheek. He rolls onto his back to allow her to attack his face with kisses until her nose brushes his neck and he jolts to escape the tickling.

I slide the tray laden with our back garden picnic between us, pouring us each a glass of aguapanela. Cece hesitates only a moment before accepting it, too hot in the spring sun to refuse the drink. It takes longer for them to dare a nibble on a slice of watermelon. The fruit is so sweet it immediately defeats whatever is telling them not to eat it.

I don't dare interrupt so it's only after they have a pile of rinds in front of them that I speak. 'Have you heard...?' The question snags in my throat. 'Have you heard owt from those art programmes? I mean, are you still planning to come back home– here if you make it?'

'It's kinda growing on me, Somerset,' Cece confesses, 'but I wanna live somewhere where the closest food shop isn't eleven miles away. I miss the city. I miss home.'

Home.

They do their best to smile though they pick at their black nail polish.

'But... not yet. I reckon I should finish my A-levels. I need to just... stick with summat, let myself trust some sort of stability. And Bobbi says I can stay even after I'm eighteen, so... I wanna stay another year. Try to graduate. I did get interviews with some of those art schools. That proves I can, don't it? That I can do summat with it if I want. But maybe school will get easier too if I stay in one place a bit longer. And I've...' their nose crickles '–made friends.'

As much as I ache at the thought of another year of them living all the way in West Country, the pride is stronger. I'm so proud that my insides tickle with the rapid blossoming of new orchids.

'Okay. Your room will be here if you ever want it.'

Cece only sinks deeper into their hunch. 'Are you sure Joe would be fine with it, with me living with you?'

'Yes,' I say. 'We talked about it on the first date and we've talked about it a lot since. She's alright with it.'

Honestly, Joe sounds excited about it. She grew up with three sisters and as much as she needs her own space, apparently living alone is too quiet for her. But I don't want Cece to feel like he has to move back here to make us happy.

'I can't ask you to trust her yet but trust me.'

But it's my turn to look away as I rub my wrist. If Joe ever leaves, it'll end me, but it'll kill Cece. And it'll be my fault. It'll be my fault again... If I don't love her enough, if I'm not good enough. What if I can't–?

Reminder: Joe loves me. Reminder: I love her. Reminder: I don't need to earn happiness. I deserve this. I trust her. It'll be alright.

'She's not gonna abandon us. Even if we did split up, she's not going to vanish.'

My voice is so firm that Cece stops fidgeting to meet my stare. They look so much like they did as a kid... or maybe it's just a filter I have over my irises that will always see a child regardless of how many piercings they get. Their eyes swarm with a mix of emotions I recognise in my own chest: not quite daring to hope but wanting to so desperately.

The doubt is rooted too deep for one conversation to kill it but Cece nods which is enough for now.

'Bobbi says I can adopt Esther. So she'll be officially mine. And she can be trained to assist me with... recognising hallucinations and stuff. Would that also be okay?'

'Course, it is. As long as she don't ruin my garden.'

They turn to Esther and ask if she can accept those terms. Esther don't respond because she's a dog but we decide the look in her eyes is confirmation.

Still giggling at her, Cece's gaze finds mine. 'I were thinking maybe we could paint my room while I'm here.'

I burst for joy. 'Course. You can paint it however you like.'

Cece picks up another slice of watermelon to nibble on. They feed a second to Esther who shreds it in a single bite. Note to self: Don't ever get on her bad side.

'I should tell you summat– nowt bad!' I disclaim when anxiety snaps into his body. 'Just that I've been going to counselling. Joe showed me this charity initiative for free sessions and the therapist I saw helped me sign up for the NHS waitlist. It'll probably be a while til I get through but I'm starting medication.'

'You're gonna take pills? But you're so–'

Their cheeks gain a tinge and, sensing their need, Esther snuggles into him.

They switch tracks. 'Good... that you're... um, figuring out what help you want.' The words are oddly stitched together, some Frankenstein sentence of all the affirmations I've said to them over the years. The next flows smoothly. 'I'm proud of you.'

'Thank you.'

'You're happy.'

It's not a question. It must beam from me, the sun in my chest. The canyon is still there, but I've stopped trying to stitch it shut only for it to tear open again. I have to accept it as part of my landscape. Canyons are rich and biodiverse environments, as sacred as any marvel of nature. It will flourish if I let it.

'I'm really happy.'

Though Cece continues to pet Esther for comfort—or maybe for courage, they push the tray from between us. Next, they're hugging me, the clover and wildflowers tickling our sides.

'You deserve it.'

Truth: I deserve it.



Notes

Aguapanela: (lit. sugar cane water) Colombian sugar cane drink often seasoned with cinnamon, ginger, and lemon. It can be served hot or cold.

Schizophrenia Service Dog (SSD): Service dogs specifically trained to aid people with schizophrenia. For example, they are trained to recognise subtle changes that may indicate the onset of a psychotic episode, interrupt hallucinations, provide grounding, and guide their handler to safety.

Apparently you can't embed YouTube shorts on Wattpad (big surprise there, this website is stuck in 2011), but I saw a video where an SSD is trained to greet people. When the handler is experiencing hallucinations, they command the dog to greet, and when she doesn't, he knows they aren't real. 


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