a cottage secret

a pretty gift for a pretty girl

The days went by and Betty was still surprised by the flowers she had gotten. She had never gotten flowers before. Or anything before, for that matter.

She didn't have that much contact with people her age. Her best friend was her orange cat. The person she talked to the most was her mother. She felt as if no one knew here – and no one really did, because she barely knew herself. How would it be possible to be understood if she couldn't show how she wanted to be understood?

The girl next door, however, felt different. Although Betty hadn't talked to her, she felt in her core that that girl would understand if they ever talked about things. Just things in general. Nothing specific. Just the crucial pain of growing up.

Betty wanted to do something for her. Maybe also give her flowers. But the ones that grew in her garden were only a few and they were needed to complement their income. So what could she do?

She probably couldn't offer anything that special. The girl was a guest at the biggest house in the region. Probably had cake and jams every day, and so many people to talk to! All those employees wanting to do her good! She probably had everything her heart desired.

And where would Betty fit in? She probably couldn't do anything as fantastic as the beautiful bouquet she's gotten; so she contented herself in watching the girl from afar, from her window. Sometimes, when she'd leave the house to water their plants, she'd see the girl run around the beautiful garden she had or sit in a special corner to read books. When she was out, Betty tried to hide. She wanted to see the girl but did not want to be seen.

She was far too clumsy and ugly to even get close to her. It'd be better to not talk to her.

Furthermore, she was scared reality would be too disappointing. She saw that girl as a beautiful modern and kind girl who would understand all she wanted to be understood. She knew that was only in her imagination. The girl probably would never talk to her without thinking she was weird and would never consider being her friend.

On the other hand, she did send the flowers... and a cute note...

Maybe she should try it?

Maybe that dream could turn into something real, and something beautiful.

Days turned into nights and she got tired of only staying behind so many walls. She wanted to go to the girl and hold her hand and tell her all about who she was – even if that was a mystery to her own self.

She used her chores as a distraction and tried to stop thinking about it. If she wouldn't be brave enough to go and talk to her, there was no point obsessing over the possibility. She cleaned a little part of the house every day and would go with her father to every one of his meetings. She'd help with her neighbors' farms and learn how to cook so her mother wouldn't have to. For those weeks, she was the perfect daughter.

But what really made her days good were the glimpses of the girl next door she got when she went out of the house. Her long black hair flying with the wind, just like her clothes. She looked like a bird, ready to fly. And in the back of Betty's mind, she could herself asking "take me with you".

She wanted to know how her days were and what made her happy. Because for that moment, that girl was what made her happy.

That was it. She needed to give something back.

Not flowers. Her father would sell the sunflowers in a fair close by and she couldn't take enough to make a bouquet – especially because her family would question her about it. She didn't want them to know her secret. If it was only hers, it'd be more special.

What would be the perfect thing to introduce herself?

One afternoon, she got it.

She got some carrots out of her garden and baked a beautiful cake. She wrapped it in pretty paper and put it on a pretty basket. She also wrote a note and put only one flower by its side and ran to the girl's door.

She hoped she could run away before anyone opened it, so she placed her gift on the floor and knocked three times. When she heard someone running down the stairs, she fled. She wasn't ready to be known yet. She just wanted the girl to know she was adored.

Florence opened the door with tremendous excitement. There was no one outside, which left her disappointed. She thought maybe that day she'd finally meet the pretty ginger singer girl! She looked down at her own feet and then she saw it.

She took it as fast as she could and held it close to her heart. She had been answered! She was known!

She ran upstairs and unveiled the gift. There was a yellow cake, a sunflower and a note. With little and delicate handwriting, it was written:

"you're beautiful. i wish we could be friends"