The Woman With Two Brown Thumbs

 

 

“If I told you who I was talking to and why I’m on your roof wearing sunglasses at night, you wouldn’t believe me,” I said, taking off the glasses.

My hope was Tabitha would just call me a weirdo or make some other mean comment about me seeing ghosts. I wanted her to go away.

Instead, she stepped out onto the roof.

“Where did you get those glasses?” she said. “I’ve seen them somewhere before.”

My chest tightened. And I didn’t have any balloons left to release.

“I found them in the hospital chapel. A … woman left them behind.”

“And you didn’t hand them into the Lost and Found?” she asked. “Wow. You’re a liar and a thief.”

That was when I nearly told Tabitha that her mother had left the sunglasses for me because she wanted me to have them. But I stopped myself. Instead I said, “Can I ask you a strange question?”

Tabitha shrugged.

“Did your mother wear lavender perfume?” I said.

Tabitha looked at me like she wanted to push me off the roof. It was a long way down to the ground, so I braced myself.

“Who told you that?” she said. “My dad or my grandparents? Who?”

I shrugged. “Well, I’ve met a ton of Mortons…”

“And all of them hate your guts.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Walking carefully past Tabitha, I headed toward the open attic window.

“My mother didn’t wear perfume.” she said.

I stopped. Looked back.

“She loved flowers, but she had two brown thumbs.” Tabitha said. “It’s the truth. Whatever flowers my mom planted always died, except for lavender. So she grew that plant everywhere. She filled up half the backyard and part of the front yard with it.”

Lost in memories, Tabitha’s tone softened.

“When the moon was full like it is tonight, she would grab blankets and take Mac and me up here to the roof. Then she’d point to the yard, so happy. ‘Look at the lavender, guys. In the moonlight, the purple and blue petals look like a sea of stars.’”

Glancing at the backyard below us, I saw something was happening. Something magical, fragrant, and Better Bertie-like. Thousands of brilliant lavender flowers grew in an instant. It took my breath in the best of ways.

Colored in twinkling moonlight, the flowers did look like a sea of stars. Because of Tabitha’s silence, I knew the flower show could only be seen with my funky sunglasses.

“What happened to all the lavender flowers? Where’d they go?” I said.

“My dad pulled them out of the ground after my mom died,” Tabitha said. “He’s a rock with almost everything. No, he’s a mountain. But the mountain started to crumble. He couldn’t take it. They reminded him of Mom too much.”

“Is that why there are no pictures of your mom in the house?”

“Stop it! Stop asking me questions like we are friends!”

I nodded. We said nothing for a few uncomfortable seconds.

“Tomorrow night, my dad’s coming for me,” I said.

“I know that already.”

Her tone was spiteful again. “I heard my dad and your mom talking. Your father is worried that if Mac doesn’t get better, we’ll sue him for what you did. So he’s taking you to North Carolina like it’s your Get Out of Jail Free card or something”

“Or something,” was all I could manage to say. How did Better Bertie know that Tabitha was going to mention a Get Out of Jail Free card? Another mystery waiting to be solved. They were piling up.

“Whatever. It’s for the best,” she said. “This way, we both get what we want.”

Not really, I thought. The only thing I wanted was for Mac to be Mac again. Awake and happy, riding his bike around town while he kept an eye out for his missing dog, Cosmo.

“Tabitha Morton!” A familiar voice shouted behind us. Tabitha and I looked that way. Big Mouth Aunt was in the attic window. She shot me a hateful glare, and waved frantically to Tabitha.

“Come on, Tabby, we are going to the hospital. Hurry! It’s urgent.”