Authors: Maddy Edwards
Carley left to go get ready, and I unpacked. I sent my mom a quick text to let her know I was there. There was no point in calling; she’d be too busy arguing with my dad to talk anyway.
Luckily, my room had its own bathroom. This time there was a fish theme, with literally a shelf of yellow rubber ducks over the sink. I took a shower, put on a white t-shirt and jean shorts, and stuffed my feet into sandals. I checked myself out in the mirror. I had big brown eyes, which at the moment were framed by my wet, brown curls. I put some makeup on and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.
“You ready?” Carley yelled from somewhere downstairs.
“Coming,” I yelled back.
Outside, the sun was just starting to set and the sky was a riot of pinks and oranges plus a little blue. The breeze had picked up, but it wasn’t cold yet. I stuck my face into the wind to enjoy the smell of sea air and flowers. I wondered who the Roths were. I wondered if I’d see Holt again. So many questions and I’d only just gotten there.
Even though Carley’s house was by itself down a little dirt road, we were only a couple of blocks from town. As we walked through the outskirts of Castleton, Carley explained every house and shop. She talked about neighbors who had passed down their summer cottages from generation to generation and store owners who had had their shops for decades. We passed a store called Mike’s Market, and then another called Last Stand Reading. A clothing store called Lady Lou’s had only white dresses in the window.
I only half listened to her chatter. I knew I wouldn’t remember a lot of what she said, and anyhow I was too busy staring at the town. Castleton looked like something out of a storybook. Buildings were painted in pastel colors, most with white shutters and doorframes. Many of the people walking around looked like they were on vacation, with straw hats and khaki shorts. I looked down at my white t-shirt and jeans. I definitely didn’t fit in.
“After this street there are some family houses. Plus, the Roths’ house, and then we’ll get to Mrs. Fritters’ place,” Carley was saying as she walked. “It’s an easy walk from our place to the café.”
I nodded absently. Somewhere ahead I could smell flowers. The next street wasn’t lined with lots of houses. Instead, the next block included just one property. Set back from the road was an enormous white house, with four pillars in the front and enormous windows. The house was beautiful, but it wasn’t what caught my attention. It was what was in front that took my breath away. The most stunning garden I had ever seen blanketed the front lawn. Every color flower, from blues and purples to reds and yellows to whites and pinks, was there. It was like fireworks had exploded into flowers and scattered them over this yard. At the front of the garden, an archway leading up the drive was covered with vines and yet more flowers. I didn’t know the names of any of the flowers except the lilies, but I had a sudden pounding desire to learn about them. Without meaning to, I gasped.
Once I got my breathing under control I said, “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“Oh, so now you’re impressed?” said Carley smugly. She had stood and waited patiently while I got myself calmed down a little. “Yeah, that’s the Roths’ place. They come every summer. They’re kind of weird, but really nice. I hardly ever see any of them around, but they have the best party of the summer. In two weeks, literally the day before Mom and Dad get home, they have the Solstice Party.” Carley had come to a stop at one corner of the property instead of walking past the front yard and down the street.
“Who are they?” I asked, still staring at the gorgeous flowers. I had no idea why the flowers fascinated me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
Carley shrugged. Whenever she did that her shoulders got lost in her mass of blond curls. “They’ve lived there in the summers for as long as anyone can remember. They keep to themselves. Not really sure why, but I never see them at the beach. They know the Cheshires pretty well, though,” she added, brushing hair out of her brown eyes.
“The Cheshires are?” I prompted.
“Oh, they’re sort of like the Roths. Ridiculously nice house, but it’s on the other side of town. They don’t have a nice garden like this, though,” she said, waving her hand at the splendor in front of us. But I got the idea from the way her voice went high at the mentioning of the Cheshires that something about them made her uncomfortable. “Anyway, come on, this way,” she said, her voice returning to normal. Before I could ask anything else she ducked under the white fence surrounding the Roths’ property.
I stood where I was, looking after her in horror.
“Carley, what are you doing?” I managed to ask.
“Don’t be silly. They’re not here. And it’s much faster to go through their garden. I do it all the time,” said Carley over her shoulder. She was already walking away from me down those stunning gravel paths lined with flowers.
I didn’t move. I didn’t want to follow her; I hardly dared to disturb the flowers. But I really didn’t have a choice. Carley had left and she was the one who knew her way around town. I couldn’t not follow her.
With the blood pounding in my ears, I walked up to the fence. Gently I placed my hand on the warm wood, steeling myself.
“Oh man,” I muttered, and ducked under the fence after her. I hadn’t been there an hour and already I was trespassing. This was definitely going to be an interesting summer.
Being in the garden was way more overwhelming than just seeing it. Smells, both tangy and sweet, assaulted me. After a couple of steps, I was fully engulfed and taking deep breaths as I moved. Carley was so far down the path that I couldn’t even see her, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Who needed Carley when I had these wonderful flowers?
I slowed down, enjoying the garden. I saw a bench nearby and thought that I should sit on it. Why not? I didn’t have anything to do at the moment, or really for the rest of the summer. My parents were too busy hating each other to wonder about me. They probably wouldn’t even miss me. Then I could stay here in the garden, sitting on the bench with the flowers….
A rough hand grabbed my arm and I yelped. Carley was glaring at me.
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded, looking at me like I was deranged. “You’re acting like you’re high. Come on.”
While I protested that I was completely fine, she propelled me along after her, muttering something about annoying friends that probably smoked stuff. I tried to tell her that I’d never smoked anything in my life, but she wasn’t listening.
The path led around the back of the house, which wasn’t visible from the road but was every bit as beautiful as the front. The massive back yard stretched in front of me in every direction. I could easily have gotten lost in the amazing paths. Involuntarily I gasped, inhaling the wonderful smells. I could stay here forever.
Carley snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Stop that. You’re acting addled.” She put her hands on her hips and frowned.
“Well, you’re the one that brought me in here,” I retorted, trying to get myself oriented to the real world again. It was hard. Really hard.
“It’s way faster to get to Mrs. Fritters’ place if we go this way,” Carley replied, starting to walk again but putting a hand lightly on my arm to make sure that this time I stayed with her. As I followed her through the backyard I drank in my surroundings. The same stunning riot of colors from the front yard was mirrored here, except that the flowers might be bigger, if that was even possible. As an afterthought I said, “I didn’t know anyone could get high on flowers.”
Carley looked back at me and rolled her eyes.
Ignoring my friend, I reached out to touch the blossoms. As I followed my hand’s movement, I saw the flowers bend to meet it, as if they had the same desire to embrace me that I had to embrace them. I wanted to feel their smooth grace under my fingers; I wanted to be closer to them.
Feeling light-headed and wonderful, I let Carley pull me along while my free hand trailed against the petals. Carley knew where we were going, and all too quickly we were at the far side of the garden. I could see the white fence and beyond it the outside world. Despite Carley’s attempt to snap me out of my trance, I had forgotten that the outside world even existed. Seeing it and knowing that I was headed towards it filled me with a profound sense of sadness and loss.
Without hesitation Carley pulled me over the fence and back onto the street. I staggered a little, then found my footing. Looking down at the hand I had used to touch the flowers, I was only mildly surprised to see that it was covered in a rainbow of sparkling colors. Without thinking, I held it up to my mouth and was about to lick my fingers when Carley smacked my hand away.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “You can’t eat flowers.”
“It’s not the flowers,” I said indignantly, angry that she’d kept me from what I wanted to do and embarrassed that she’d found me out. “It’s just…what they left on me.”
“Well,” said Carley, eyeing me as we started to walk down a street that looked much like the one before, “that’s really weird.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I just looked at my hand and back at Carley.
Carley shook her head. “You can wash it off when we get to Mrs. Fritters’.”
I didn’t want to wash it off. Never in my life did I want to clean my hand again, but I didn’t say that to Carley. I just followed her down the road. She was my friend and my host, after all. My mother would insist that I be nice.
As we got further down the street and further away from the Roths’ garden, my head became clearer. Without much effort I started to realize how silly I was being. What was I thinking, obsessing over flowers and devouring their wonderful smells like they were candy? I had never cared about flowers before today. Two years ago a guy had given me flowers and I had forgotten to water them and they had all died. And it’s not like I ever kept plants in my room. No one in my family had a green thumb. And yet here I was, visiting my friend and talking to her, and suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about this random garden we’d just walked through.
Maybe it was jet lag. Shaking my head at my own foolishness, I tried to pay attention to Carley and what was going on around me, even though it took all my concentration not to stare down at my rainbow-colored hand.
UP UP and Away wasn’t far down the road. Carley pointed it out as soon as it came into view. The cobblestones that we were walking across led right up to Mrs. Fritters’ door, and the street itself had a stunning view of the ocean. The smell of sea salt grew stronger the closer we got. Relief washed over me as it drowned out the smell of the flowers.
Carley ushered me into the coffee shop. The inside was beautiful. We faced a bank of windows that overlooked the ocean, so one side of the room looked like it had bluish gray walls from where the waves met the sky. The gilded Victorian chairs had a modern twist of looking very wide and comfortable. The seats were a variety of colors, including blues and purples and greens. Most of the tables would fit two or four people, but there was one long table right by the door that looked like a party of ten could easily sit there. To my right was the barista station and to my left was a small stage where I assumed the musical acts played. On the wall were pictures of landscapes and shelves stuffed with books.
“Hello, darlings,” said a woman standing behind the barista station as we walked up and sat on stools. She was in her fifties, wearing a yellow sundress. Her dark hair had streaks of gray and it was pinned back into a severe looking bun. Both her hands were moving rapidly, one taking change from a customer and the other pouring coffee.
“Hello, Carley. I see your friend got here safely?” she asked, smiling.
“Hi Mrs. Fritters, yes, this is Autumn Lindley. Autumn, this is Mrs. Fritters,” Carley said.
“Ah, yes darling, so nice to meet you. Don’t mind me. We had one of our employees quit today. She’s going to run off with her boyfriend. I did the same thing at her age, but I’ve been swamped ever since she left. I’ll be back soon, Loves.” She finished what she was doing and bustled away.
“Don’t worry,” said Carley, grinning. “She’s like that.”
While the other girl behind the counter got us each iced teas, I looked around the place. There were only a couple of other people there, including a boy Carley had waved to when we came in. He was sitting at a table with his laptop and a mug. He had red hair and a stocky build. The glasses he wore slipped a bit down his nose.
“So, what brings you here tonight?” asked Mrs. Fritters, coming back.
“We came for the music,” said Carley, grinning. “And to see you, of course.”
“Well, now that the place is quiet I suppose we can talk for a bit,” said Mrs. Fritters, wiping her hands off on a towel.
For the next half hour the three of us chatted. Mrs. Fritters was very funny and animated. She never stopped moving. She told stories of her employees and how complicated it was to get musical acts a few times a week.
“Now, Carley, you
are
going to come back and work for me this summer, right?” asked Mrs. Fritters, giving Carley a look that said: You Better.
Carley smiled. “I’d love to, and I’m wondering,” she said, looking over at me, “can I split some of my time with Autumn, like we talked about? She needs stuff to do, but we also want to have time to enjoy the summer.”