“Should I mix them up or keep each type together?”

“Camilla likes them mixed together,” Toni replied. “Three inches apart.”

Greta knelt in the dirt, happily interplanting the exotic-sounding radishes. She was used to the calm that came from repotting her plants, fertilizing them, and trimming away dead leaves. But kneeling in the dirt in December, with plants thriving all around her, filled Greta with hope.

She wanted this. She wanted to be in a place like this, teeming with life year-round, full of people and possibilities. She’d never done much gardening outside. The growing season in Maine was fairly short, and her indoor plants took most of her energy. But the idea of growing her own vegetables, having a plot in a community garden—hell, having even a little bit of space in this climate where things could thrive. She wanted it.

When the radishes were sown and the group headed back to the others to mulch, Greta snapped a picture of her hand in the dirt with greenery all around her and sent it to Ash.

playing with plants in december wth!? she wrote and added a heart eyes emoji. how are you?

Then she slid her phone into her back pocket and went to learn how to mulch tropicals, whatever that meant.

***

After a much-needed nap (six a.m. was not her preferred time to rise), a long walk with Horse, and a lot of googling how to grow tropical plants and vegetables in the New Orleans weather, Greta got ready to meet up with Carys, who’d texted earlier to invite her to a pool party.

Greta threw on a sports bra and some tank underwear beneath her jeans and A-shirt, hoping Carys’ friends were okay with impromptu swimwear. Carys hadn’t said anything else about the vibe of the party except to say there would be food, drinks, and a special guest.

She walked to Carys’ and found Carys, Helen, and Veronica sitting on the porch, sipping their famous lemonade. Greta’s heart filled with joy, not only to see Carys but Helen and Veronica as well. She liked them both so much. After only knowing them for a short time, she felt like they were her friends as well.

“Hi there,” Carys said warmly and wrapped her arms around Greta’s neck, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Greta’s whole body lit up. She wanted the hug to last forever.

“How was school and the square?” Greta asked.

“School was medium. One of the students in my 12:30 is this boat-shoe wearing, floppy-haired creep, and he doesn’t take notes or anything, just leers at me the whole time.”

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think that your own students might be like that.”

Helen snorted. “You should hear one of the evaluations she got at the end of term last year.”