Healing Through Blooms

The backyard was buzzing with activity. Trish, sporting miniature overalls and a bright pink watering can, was giggling as she chased butterflies around a patch of newly planted lavender. Megan, kneeling by a flowerbed, turned to smile at Lindsay, who stood a bit apart, a half-finished cup of tea in her hand.

"Looks like someone's enjoying herself," Megan said, her voice warm.

"She adores it," Lindsay replied, a wistful smile touching her lips. "Lena always said a garden is a child's first playground."

Megan watched as Trish carefully watered a tomato plant, the image overlapping with a fading memory of a younger Lindsay, her hands lovingly tending to rose bushes. Perhaps there had always been more to her than the socialite persona.

"Would you like to help?" she offered, gesturing towards the open seed packets. "It's good for fine motor skills."

Lindsay hesitated for a moment before nodding. As she knelt next to Megan, their shoulders brushed. A surge of warmth, unexpected and unwelcome, shot through Megan. She glanced at Lindsay, finding her cheeks flushed, a lock of hair falling across her face.

Megan reached out, gently tucking the strand behind Lindsay's ear. Their eyes met, and for an electrifying moment, time seemed to stand still.