Chapter 38

There was an empty red foil wrapped clay flowerpot on the back deck I’d been walking past for months. It had held the poinsettia I’d ended up buying somewhere other than Daisy’s, to brighten my sister’s place for Christmas. Unfortunately, brown thumbs ran thicker in the Storm family than inadequate financial planning. The poor plant had died just after New Year’s. Now, there was nothing in the pot but dirt.

“Let’s give you a home, little feller.” Sure, kissing the bulb was stupid. Fortunately, no one but Abby was there to see me do it. She ran right over, most likely assuming it was food. “Snackies after, baby girl.”

I loosened the dark black soil, added some from the yard, since the richer dirt had settled and no longer filled the whole pot, and then made a hole with the handle end of the digger.

“Good luck.”

With the bulb point side up, I covered it and wondered if I should add water.

“I think you’re wet enough.”