Amidst the Greenhouse

“Alright dad, and you’re sure that you’re all set for me to go?”

“Go on now Susan. I am sure I will be alright, and if not, I have all of these helpful nurses who can assist me.” Holdyn replied to his daughter who eyed him with unease and question. She helped him with arranging his room, placing a framed photo of him and her when Susan was only six on his nightstand.

The photo showed her father with his messy canvas next to hers full of budding talent, capturing the sight of their horses grazing in the field ahead of them. Holdyn, now eighty-one, had lived on an isolated farm after his wife had passed away during childbirth in the spring that Susan was born thirty years ago. It was his mother who took the photo, having helped him tremendously during Susans first years.

“Well, I love you and I will be back sometime tomorrow afternoon to check on how you’re settling in.” she said, brow furrowed. She had just driven him to the nursing home that she had spent ages convincing him to go to. In the doorway of his spacious room that smelled of age and bleach, she was now wondering if it was the right thing to do.

After she had left, Holdyn felt the reality of being in the nursing home settle in his chest, the space around him expanding and the hollow feeling of anxiety swooping in. He had toured the place and spent much of the day getting to know the staff. Yet, his hands trembled as the concept of no longer living on the farm overtook him. The emotions were almost overwhelming and so he decided to test the limits of his new confinements.

Stepping into the hall and looking around, he had a basic understanding of the layout. Choosing this nursing home over the others was due to its acers of land that wove with open trails throughout the land behind the nursing home. His mind, however, was set to the greenhouse that sat behind the building. Nature always calmed him.

“Can I help you, Mr. Albert?” a young person asked as they walked up to him with vibrant scrubs and a warm smile. What caught his attention was the teal pixie styled hair. He had not met this nurse earlier. The teal made their brown eyes pop and Holdyn felt a sense of comfort at their questioning gaze opposed to unsettled.

“Just heading to the Garden,” he smiled, hoping he didn’t appear as shaken as he felt.

“Of course,” they replied, leaning in closer. “If it weren’t for having to work, that’s where I would be,” they softly said behind the shade of their hand before pulling back and giving a chuckle.

“Just make sure you sign out so our RNs know where you are should we need you,” they informed pointing to the desk where other nurses sat filling out paperwork.

Holdyn thanked the person before moving past them to sign out and walk the corridors and steps to the patio and eventually to the greenhouse.

It didn’t take him long to find it. The moment he stepped onto the patio, the greenhouse’s large circular glass roof glistening in the falls setting sun appeared, and his anxiety lightly lifted at the sight alone. Making his way over, he did his best to avoid the other folk to prevent uncomfortable communication until the longing of his youth passed.

Entering the warm confines of the greenhouse, as expected, his anxiety faded. There were a lot of assorted plants he was surprised to see such as a row of various haworthia and orchids, ferns, hibiscus even. Inhaling deeply, he slowly walked around the empty and silent greenhouse breathing in the plants until he spotted a woman in the back of the room smelling flats full of begonias.

Hearing him behind her, the woman turned and after a quick glance and passing eye, each of them snapped back to the others gaze as their stomachs flipped. Hesitance, question and then recognition passed their faces in fleeting expression as they slowly moved to face each other.

“Jolie,” Holdyn finally exhaled, suddenly cemented in spot as his eyes looked over the woman without a blink. She was older, and her hair much longer, but it was her.

Jolies expression matched his teary-eyed amazement. It was him. The spot where the prosthetic leg met her thigh warmed at the sight of him, almost as if to say that even with all she lost, not all had been lost. Because here he was, the love of her life, thirty-eight years later in front of her. Aged and surrounded by ferns and flowers.

The woman before him, in her long white sundress and lengthy necklace was just as radiant as she had been when he stumbled into her at the farmers market in the city those years ago. They spent the better half of three weeks getting to know each other intimately before she visited home across the country. He didn’t hear from her after she had left, as she promised she would contact him when she made it home. After a year, he moved out of the city unable to shake the thought of her any other way.

“There was an accident,” she breathed. His eyes burrowed in confusion at her words.

“When I left for my trip,” she continued. “The first plane was fine however the second crashed due to a landing gear malfunction,” Tears were pouring out of her face and her arms shook as she touched her leg, or lack thereof.

He was flooded with understanding. He made his way to her, his leg brushing against the stiffness of her prosthetic as he grabbed onto her hands in an attempt to reassure and calm her.

“It’s okay,” he smiled, kissing the tops of her delicate fingers that smelled greatly of earth. “I’m here now and we have plenty of time,” he smiled. “Show me those begonias, yeah?”

Her eyes glistened and their hearts sored.