Flower Power Read online

  “I don’t know what else to say,” said Taryn. “I’m going to be taking some time off and we’ll just have to figure it out. Thank you.”

  Taryn turned from Jens’ desk and walked off, rubbing her temple as she left. Her heart was racing and her palms were sweating. After leaving Jens, Taryn speed-walked toward the front door of the office. She exited through it, and then quickly made her way into the women’s bathroom in the hall. The bathroom was large, with a wall of mirrors and sinks, tiled floors, a long row of stalls, bright and clean and well-maintained. Taryn pushed into one of the stalls and she tumbled down to her knees. She puked into the toilet while a few tears streamed from her eyes.

  Later on that day, back at home, dressed down in comfortable pajamas despite it only being the late afternoon, Taryn sat on her couch and flicked through the options of movies and shows to stream. She drank from a glass of water, and stared into the television, trying to come up with some kind of diversion. It just wasn’t sticking. Nothing looked good, nothing looked interesting. But she was desperate to occupy herself. If she didn’t, her mind would drift to the embarrassment she felt about leaving work as she did.

  It just felt like she couldn’t do anything right. But at least she had escaped the office and the mental anguish that had been building throughout the week. At least she had forced a respite upon herself, even if it would put her in a precarious position at work. She had neglected her mental health for too long, and it was making her feel like she was losing her sense of self. Sitting there on the couch, looking into the television as these thoughts appeared in her mind, Taryn threw her remote control onto the ground. She stood up, and she walked away.

  Taryn walked into her kitchen to refill her glass of water. Her kitchen was beautiful and modern. She had stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, a beautiful tile backsplash, a set of copper pots and pans hanging from the ceiling above the island. But rarely did it even get used. It was just for show. Taryn had spent so much money redesigning this kitchen, making it look like a picture in a magazine, but she hardly ever had anybody over and nor was she very good at or interested in cooking. Popping open a bottle of ibuprofen, she took two and chased them down with water.

  This entire house was beginning to feel like a millstone around her neck. In fact, most things she had once believed signified her success were now weighing her down.

  Taryn wondered if perhaps she was having an early-onset midlife crisis. She wasn’t very far away from her forties, from her middle years, so that’s exactly what it could be. There were ways to push through it. She knew people who had their problems during this time of life. They got divorced, they bought a sports car, they took time off from work and traveled the world. Maybe something like that would solve her problem. Maybe a massive change would give her the perspective she needed to figure out how she was supposed to live the second half of her life.

  She knew exactly the person to talk to. It had to be Alex. None of Taryn’s other friends would understand. They had all become periphery friends, anyway. Ensconced in their own worlds, their own problems. Alex had upended her life and done something big. Of course she would have insight for Taryn.

  Taryn quickly tapped into her phone and then put it up to her ear. It rang a handful of times before Alex answered.

  “Hello?” said Alex sweetly.

  “Hey there,” she said. “It’s Taryn. How are you?”

  “It’s a beautiful day out,” Alex replied. “I was just out in the sun for a few and now I’m having a glass of iced tea. How are you?”

  “Those flowers you delivered this week were gorgeous,” Taryn said. “And they smelled so fresh.”

  “Lilacs,” said Alex.

  “Right,” said Taryn. “That’s what they are.”

  “You sound a little preoccupied,” Alex said, her voice emoting some concern. “What’s up?”

  “Well, I suppose I am,” Taryn agreed. “This last weekend was wonderful. I really had a great time. It all seemed so simple.” Alex laughed.

  “The simple life isn’t always so simple,” she countered. “But I’m so glad you had fun. The gang was happy to have you around.”

  “I kind of had a breakdown at work today,” Taryn continued. “I told my boss I was leaving. Just going away for a while. He wasn’t happy. Nobody was happy. Not even me.”

  “I see,” said Alex.

  “I didn’t have a plan,” said Taryn. “I still don’t. I’m just feeling lost about it all. I puked in the bathroom at work.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Taryn,” said Alex. “You must be incredibly stressed.”

  “I am,” said Taryn. “Being back at work this week… it felt soul crushing. I don’t know why I’m doing it anymore. It feels like I’m doing it just because that’s what you do. Like I never questioned it.”

  “I think a lot of people feel like that,” said Alex. “Even if it’s hard for them to admit. We’re a culture of workaholics.”

  “Yes, exactly,” said Taryn. “And what I do… it just doesn’t seem to matter. It really doesn’t. I’m having difficulty finding meaning in it all.”

  “I was talking to Penny about you,” said Alex. “And she told me that you were dealing with some pretty intense psychic pain.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Taryn. “Psychic pain?”

  “You’re experiencing some deep emotional pain and a loss of control,” Alex said. “You feel powerless and meaningless. Does that sound right?”

  “Yes,” said Taryn. “That’s it.”

  “You’re in a vicious cycle,” Alex went on. “You’re unhappy with life because you feel so emotionally drained. And you’re emotionally drained every day—even first thing in the morning—because you’re unhappy where your life has lead you.”

  “Oh wow,” Taryn said, feeling impossibly heavy from Alex’s words.

  “Are you going to be okay with work?” Alex asked. “I mean, it’s all right that you’re taking this time off? You’re not going to be fired?”

  “I don’t know,” said Taryn. “I have the PTO, but that’s just a farce. If you take the time off, people don’t think you’re dedicated enough. I really don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “Hmm,” intoned Alex thoughtfully. “Okay, well… What’s done is done with that. But I have an idea.”

  “Yeah?” said Taryn. “What’s that?”

  Taryn followed Alex up the narrow stairway of the old farmhouse. The stairs creaked with each step, and the ceiling was low. The walls looked as though they had been freshly redone with some wood shiplap and painted white. Taryn wore a backpack and had a large duffel bag in her hand, while Alex carried a squat ceramic vase filled with a beautiful flower arrangement. When they reached the landing, Alex bowed her head to avoid the sloped roofline, and Taryn did the same.

  Upstairs was small, made up of only two rooms. The first room they encountered looked like it was an office. There was an old wooden desk with a matching wooden chair pushed into it, and there was a bookshelf with a few books in it. The other room was a bit bigger, but not by much. Alex walked into this room and she set the vase down on top of a vintage dresser that looked like it had seen better days. She continued on further into the room as Taryn walked in behind her.

  “Here it is,” Alex said with a smile. “This is your room.”

  “All right,” Taryn replied, dropping her duffel bag and looking around the room. It was nothing like her bedroom at home, which she had decorated with furniture from some of the most upscale design stores. This room in the old farmhouse was more rustic and simple. The floors were original wood slats, the white walls were like the walls from the staircase, and the furniture looked old and second-hand with very little restoration. The bed was no more than a full. Taryn slept on a king at home.

  “It’s been a guest room that we use when people come for longer stays,” Alex said. “Like you.”

  “I don’t get a yurt, huh?” Taryn teased. Alex laughed.

&n
bsp; “You don’t,” she said. “But you can come visit mine whenever you like.”

  “So this is it,” Taryn mused, still taking it all in. She shifted out of her backpack and tossed it alongside her duffel. “It’s nice, actually. Quaint.”

  “We worked out a chore list for you as well,” said Alex. “You’re going to help Justine with the chickens and ducks, putting together orders for some of our subscription egg customers.”

  “Subscription eggs?” said Taryn.

  “We have people with standing weekly orders,” Alex clarified. “You’ll just maintain those subscriptions and make sure the appropriate eggs are packed up when the customers arrive.”

  “Got it,” said Taryn. “I can do that.”

  “There’s also a project that’s been put off for a while,” said Alex. “We’ve got this old pasture area that’s fenced in. Lucas has been planning to pull up the fence and it just hasn’t happened yet. So you and him will do that.”

  “Okay,” Taryn said, confused but accepting. “Sure.”

  “We’re also always clearing brush and sawing wood,” Alex said. “You know that big forested area in the back of the homestead?”

  “Yeah,” said Taryn. “I saw it.”

  “There’s a bunch of fallen trees back there that we want to clean up and haul out so we have firewood for winter,” said Alex. “That’ll be another project you’ll work on with somebody.”

  “What about with you?” Taryn posited. “Will I get to work on anything with you?”

  “Oh, sure,” said Alex. “There’s always something to do with the flowers and greenhouses. I mean, weeding is a non-stop job around here. So, yes, absolutely you can work with me.”

  “Good,” Taryn said. She smiled happily.

  “Sometimes we smoke a little weed and then pull some weeds,” Alex joked. Taryn laughed and grinned. “There’s always something to do around the farm, so don’t worry—there will always be work for you.”

  “I’m ready for it,” said Taryn. “Thank you for inviting me out here, Alex. It means a lot. I’m feeling better already.”

  “We’re happy to give you a space to figure things out,” Alex replied with empathy. “I know how hard it can be to feel lost in life. Hopefully being out here will give you that perspective you seek.”

  Taryn continued smiling. Looking at Alex, she could feel her heart melting for this woman. Alex was dressed in fitted jeans with the ankles rolled up, some scuffed and dirty white canvas shoes, a floral print short-sleeve button down shirt. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her face was nicely tanned. She had her hands pushed into her back pockets as they conversed. This image of Alex standing in front of her was becoming etched into Taryn’s memory. She was a vision of loveliness and generosity.

  “You all right?” Alex asked, a glowing smile on her face as she tried to get Taryn’s attention.

  “Me?” replied Taryn, breaking her reverie. She laughed at herself. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you.”

  “Okay,” said Alex. “I’m going to give you your space to put your stuff away and get your room together. If you have any questions, I’ll be out in the greenhouse. I think Penny’s around the house, too, working on something in the kitchen. She should be able to help, as well.”

  “Thank you,” Taryn said again. “I appreciate it.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” said Alex. Reaching out, she put her hand on Taryn’s arm. Then she turned from their conversation and left. Taryn could hear the stairs creaking as Alex descended.

  Lifting her bags up onto the bed, Taryn sighed and surveyed her room once more. The simplicity of it was reassuring. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she would live here, but she was grateful for the opportunity and the change of pace. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she looked at the screen. There were a few missed calls from work, and the stress she felt from this knowledge immediately incited panic within her. Taryn exhaled deeply, and she set the phone face down on a small nightstand next to the bed. She then unzipped her bags and began putting her things away.

  Once Taryn finished, she walked downstairs with her hand against the wall to guide her and prevent any stumble or fall. As she came from the staircase, she ducked her head slightly to get under a beam in the low ceiling, and she came around the corner into the kitchen. Standing at the counter was Penny, her belly pushed against the counter as she leaned forward to cut a carrot into rings. There were about a dozen carrots in front of her cutting board.

  “Hi,” said Taryn with trepidation. “How are you?” Penny looked over at her and smiled.

  “Hello Taryn,” said Penny. “I’m well. Just working on some soup stock.”

  “Oh yeah?” Taryn said, coming further into the kitchen and standing next to Penny. “How do you do that?”

  “Well, I essentially simmer some chicken bones and vegetables for six hours or so,” Penny said. “Then I strain it all, put the broth into containers and either stick it in the fridge or freeze it.”

  “So it’s like the boxed broth you might buy at the store?” Taryn asked.

  “Yes, like that,” said Penny. “Only homemade is a lot better for you. Less sodium. Our chickens are also free-range and well cared for, so the bones are better quality and more nutritious.”

  “And then what do you do with it?” Taryn said. “Make soup?”

  “Yeah, we make soup,” said Penny. “We use it to boil rice and add flavor and nutrients to other things that require a boil. Dev actually likes to drink a little bit of bone broth every day. It’s good for you.”

  “Okay,” said Taryn. “Can I help?”

  “Of course you can,” Penny said with a smile. “Here you go,” she said, handing her chef knife to Taryn. “Cut all these carrots into rings and put them into this bowl for me.”

  “All right,” Taryn said. She accepted the knife and moved up to the cutting board as Penny stepped away. Taryn began cutting. “What are you going to do?”

  “Lean back on the counter and watch,” Penny teased, holding her belly. “Oof. I’m tired.”

  “That’s okay,” said Taryn. “I can do whatever you want me to do.”

  “No, no,” said Penny. “I can still work. I’ve got these bones soaking in a vinegar mixture, but they’re almost done. Just a tiny break for me.” She smiled.

  “How far along are you?” Taryn asked as she worked.

  “Seven months,” said Penny. “I’m huge. If you’d have met me a year ago, you would have said ‘that girl needs to eat!’” Penny laughed at herself. “Now I’m a behemoth.”

  “You’re not,” Taryn protested. “I think pregnant women are beautiful.” She turned her head and gave Penny a kind and happy smile.

  “That’s sweet,” said Penny. “But I’m ready to be done with this.” She sighed and then stood up straight again. Stepping toward the stovetop, Penny used a spoon to stir the mixture of chicken bones, water, and vinegar within a very large stockpot.

  “Yeah, I have no idea what it’s like,” said Taryn. “I can only imagine.”

  “Some women love it,” said Penny. “And for a while, I was really into it. But it reached a point, within the last month actually, that I was just like… ready. You know?” She laughed.

  “I know,” Taryn replied. She looked from Penny back to her hands and watched herself chop, trying not to hurt herself. “So Dev is your husband?”

  “We’re not married,” corrected Penny. “But he is my partner.”

  “Is he excited?”

  “Oh, very,” said Penny. “He’s pumped to have a child around here on the farm. He’s going to make a great father, I know it. He can’t wait to teach his son or daughter how to do things around here.”

  “So you don’t know what the baby is going to be?” Taryn asked.

  “We don’t,” said Penny. “We’re excited to find out.”

  “That’s very cute,” Taryn said. She grinned and felt really good about this interaction. It just felt so wholesome and good.
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  “Do you want children?” Penny questioned without pretense.

  “It was never something on my list, but I have thought about it,” said Taryn. “For me, I was always concerned about career. Plus, I’m gay so it’s not like it was going to happen on accident or something.” She paused and went wide-eyed with embarrassment for a second. “Not to imply yours was an accident or anything.” This really tickled Penny.

  “That’s so funny,” Penny replied, waving Taryn off. “I didn’t take any offense. Dev and I weren’t trying to have a baby, nor were we worried too much about preventing it. There are no accidents.”

  “What?” Taryn said with a hint of confusion. “What did you say?”

  “What did I say?” said Penny. “Just now?”

  “Yeah,” said Taryn. “There are no accidents?”

  “Right,” Penny said with a reassured smile. “There are no accidents. Not this little one in my womb, and not anything else. You never know what might happen. Life is a mystery. However it goes, that’s how it’s meant to be.”

  “That seems a bit fatalistic, don’t you think?” Taryn rebuked, feeling a little bit put off by Penny’s proclamation. “Are you saying we don’t control our destiny?”

  “I’m saying that the illusion of control you feel like you have over your life is your destiny,” said Penny with authority. “Do you ever have that feeling when—at whatever time of day or night—you have this wake up moment and you’re just struck by this notion of… how did I get right here, right now?”

  “I mean, yeah,” said Taryn. “I have that.”

  “Do you think that I, Penelope Ann Wyatt, somehow planned to end up at thirty-four years old standing right here on this homestead, pregnant, in a kitchen with a woman who trades stocks for a living… making stock?” Penny asked with a raised eyebrow. “I had no clue this would happen, yet here we are.”

  “Sure,” said Taryn. “But that’s just a coincidence.”