lily pulchella has been encountering difficulties of an entirely different sort

The vines stretched up and fixed the last pane of glass in place with their sticky sap. Lily wiped the sweat of concentration from her brow, satisfied that the job was finally finished. She made a few small tweaks to the flowers, then stepped back and admired the greenhouse, light streaming in filtered green through the leaves that covered the ceiling, flowers blooming in dashes of vibrant color. Lily thought it was beautiful. Hopefully the new girl would think so, too. Lily checked her watch. She should be getting here soon.

Everybody was waiting at the door when the new girl rang the bell. Everybody was a bit surprised to discover they had a doorbell. Ethel opened the door, with a “Hello, sweetie. Please come in. Welcome to…” but Lily was no longer paying attention. She was stunned. Vivian, it seemed her name was. Vivian Kaufmann. Short black hair shone in the morning light streaming in through the door behind her. She looked over the room with her deep brown eyes, smiling and waving hello. Plain clothes, not revealing, bright colors. Small breasts, but Lily found that cute. Found her cute, actually, and more. At the right time, she said, “Hi, I’m Lily.”

Vivian said, “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

Lily said, “Nice to meet you too.”

They shook hands.

Lily and Vivian were sitting in the greenhouse, drinking from a bottle of wine raided from the kitchen. Golden sunset glowed all through the glass, casting green shadows through the leaves. Vivian sat in a patch of gold, Lily in a patch of green. “You’re the nicest,” said Vivian, her cheeks blushing slightly, probably from the wine.

“Thank you,” said Lily, her cheeks blushing slightly too.

“I mean it. I’ve been here… um…” she giggled. “I’ve been here a day now. And you’re easily the nicest person here to me. Not that everybody else isn’t nice. But you’re just so… friendly.”

“Thank you.” Lily smiled. Vivian smiled back. There was a pause, but it wasn’t awkward. “So, I noticed you changed your clothes.”

“Really? How observant…” Vivian giggled. “This is what I wear when I’m relaxing.” It was closer-cut, tighter. It hugged her curves well.

“I like it. It looks really good on you. I think it’s even better than your other clothes.”

“Oh,” said Vivian. “Thank you.” And they kept on chatting and drinking until it was midnight and time to scale the stairs and back to bed.

A week later, and they were friends. That was obvious by now. But something more? Was there that spark in her eyes? Was there something to the way she acted differently around Lily than anyone else? They had shared secrets, but there was one secret that Lily had not shared, not knowing how Vivian would react, not wanting to spoil the hope that she felt the same way. Her heart was giving itself to Vivian, but was Vivian willing to receive, or (dare to dream) give in return? Lily lay awake in her garden thinking and her flowers bloomed from passion unspoken, blood-red and royal purple saying how she felt in her own secret language, the one that Vivian could not read. But Lily hoped, prayed, whispering it to her trees, that she would get the message. And that she would say,

“Yes.”