Part 7: A sweet heaven, but a bitter reality.

When I awoke, Timothy was gone, but his warm blankets remained wrapped around me, no light shining through the small walls of the shack. I got up and look out towards the house, noticing the Rowley’s car back in place, and the lack of disturbed sleep I got. Normally, Mr Rowley would always disturb me in the night, but he didn’t which shocked me. That or maybe he tried, but I was too exhausted to awaken from it.

I put on a dry pair of clothes, and walked out towards the greenhouse, watching the windows of the house carefully so as not to get caught sneaking into the greenhouse. No one was visible, so I assumed they were still asleep or maybe eating the giant breakfast like they did every morning, normally without me.

I snuck through the door, trying to not let it creak too much, and entered the warm, loving world of the greenhouse. I’m home again, I thought, walking around and checking every plant and pot to make sure everything was still okay. One potted plant was knocked over, the pot smashed and the plant lying limp on the ground. I bet down to fix the plant, noticing a very familiar footprint in the soil on the cement ground of the house.

It was Mr Rowley’s.

He never came in the greenhouse; the only reason they actually built it was for Mrs Rowley, to which never used it anyways. The dirty footprint gave away why I was disturbed in my sleep last night, and that I was caught for entering. I knew he would know I was in here, that’s why he knocked it over; why else would he kick a plant?

I heard the creak of the door, as I whipped around to see Mrs Rowley, gardening gloves on, hands on her hips, smiling. Her smile wasn’t evil like it was so many times before; it was almost welcoming, inviting in a way. I remained bent over the plant, thinking of a quick excuse as to why I was in here in the first place.

“I knew you were the one saving them from dying,” she said, turning to tend to a sickly looking tomato plant, tomatos still green and small. I stood up properly, and attempted to apologize, Mrs Rowley just raising a hand in a hushing motion.

“It doesn’t matter that you are in here,” she said calmly, peacefully, “in fact, it’s rather nice to be able to share this with someone.”

I was astonished at what she was saying to me; was she on some kind of drug? Did she fall and hit her head yesterday? She was treating me like an equal for the very first time since Lily died.

“Lily loved this place,” she said sadly, her hands slowing down to match the pace of her voice.

“I remember Lily telling me so,” I walked towards her slowly, hands outward in a sign of peace, which she wasn’t noticing anyways. She just kept her eyes focused on the plant, her eyes in a different time, a time with Lily, and happiness.

“She told you of here?” She asked, “is that why you visit so often?” She turned to me, her voice sounding sincere. I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her or not, but I did. I told her how much this place reminded me of home, and how it was a safe place for me to be. She smiled when I said how green it was, and how much work it took to take care of it.

“That’s how I knew you were taking care of it; these plants should have died a long time ago.”

“Thank you for not telling Mr Rowley, I know how he feels about me, and he would take it the wrong way.” My words felt hollow as they left my mouth; why was I talking about her husband to her? She had the most experience with him, she should know how he gets with me like the back of her hand.

“This will be our little secret Emily,” she turned to me and placed both of her hands on my face, holding it gently. It took everything I had not to flinch away from her, afraid of what she was going to do next. “I want you to know something Emily, can you keep this a secret?”

“Yes Ma’m, I can.”

“I never hated you, nor disliked. I’m so sorry things have been rough for you lately,” she glanced away from me for a moment, before continuing, “but I always considered you like another daughter.”

I stared into her eyes and realized how serious she was being; she meant every word she said. I couldn’t believe her though, after all I had been through here, and I couldn’t just forget that. I had learned not to trust her nor Mr Rowley, so why should this all change now?

“Thank you,” I said, before disconnecting from her grasp, and walking out of the greenhouse, and back into the cold reality that I was forced to call home.