Six

20 DAYS TO THE GARDEN

A dream--

Wendy stood on the deck in their backyard, leaning against the railing as she watched the sky. The sun was starting to dip and the sky was starting to change colour. Wendy watched with shining eyes as she waited for the sunset.

"Wendy! Come inside!" her mother called, standing at the doorway behind her.

Wendy turned around to face her mother. "But—"

"No buts!" Her mother grabbed her hand, and Wendy flinched. She pulled her inside, scolding her as she did. "I don't want to hear any complaints. You know how bad the light is for you."

Wendy turned her head to look over her shoulder, the light of the sunset almost reaching her eyes as she struggled to take in as much as she could before her mother shut the door and closed the blinds.

That day--

Wendy always thought she had more time to complete the things she wanted to do. Who didn't? After the announcement that the sun was going to go out, she thought she would never be able to do any of it, but now she finally had the chance to.

'But….'

Wendy sat at the table, shifting awkwardly in her seat.

'Is this really okay?'

Damien was standing by the stove, spatula in hand. A yellow apron was tied around his neck as he cracked eggs into the pan. "Hey, how do you like your eggs?"

"Um, any way is fine," she responded.

"I don't know how to cook 'any way' eggs, so let's make this easier for the both of us and just tell me how you like your eggs."

"No, really, I'm fine with however they are!" Wendy insisted. "Whatever's easier for you."

Damien shot her an annoyed look, and she gulped. To her relief, he sighed and returned his attention to the pan. "Fine."

'So scary,' Wendy thought. He didn't look this angry yesterday. 'Did I do something? It must be because I'm here. He didn't want me here in the first place. Should I leave?'

"Come on, Damien! Be a little nicer, wouldn't you?" Wisteria's voice rang out behind her.

"Well, excuse me for not being nice at this ungodly hour in the morning," Damien grumbled.

Wendy turned around in her chair. "G-Good morning, Wis—" She was cut off as Wisteria's appearance caught her off-guard.

Wisteria's long wavy hair was now pulled back, and her grey canvas dress was replaced by flowing robes and a shawl. Beads and other accessories were wrapped around her arms. Despite the early morning, she seemed to be shining brighter than normal.

"Wow!" Wendy could not help herself from exclaiming.

"Good morning, Wendy! How do I look?" Wisteria twirled around, showing off her outfit. As she spun, the beads sewn on her dress glittered, clinking against each other like windchimes as she moved.

Damien set a plate of fried eggs on top of Wisteria's head. "You look like you ask someone to make breakfast for you and then never come downstairs on time."

"Ow! Hey, putting this on takes time!" Wisteria complained. "Oh! That's right!" She rushed away, causing Damien to lunge forwards to save the plate from dropping.

"What the—?" he cried.

"I almost forgot!" Wisteria said, grabbing a dusty-looking camera from one of the shelves.

"Damnit, Wisteria! You almost made me drop the plate!" Damien scowled. She paid no attention, humming as she fussed with the camera.

"Wendy!" she called. Wendy straightened up.

"Yes? Huh?!" Wendy yelped as she was pulled towards her. Wisteria wrapped her hand around Wendy's shoulder, smiling as she held the camera in front of them.

"To commemorate Wendy moving in with us...say cheese!"

"What?" Wendy and Damien cried at the same time.

"Moving in? I can't bother you like that, not after how much you've helped me!" Wendy rattled, waving her hands.

"Wisteria, you're always like this, but this time, it's too much! Did you even think of asking the other person who lives here?" Damien accused.

Wisteria cocked her head. "What's the issue? We have the space."

Damien rolled his eyes. He grabbed Wisteria's arm, pulling her away from the kitchen and into the next room. "We need to talk."

Wendy shot Wisteria a worried glance, but the other girl shot her a peace sign as she was dragged away, not concerned at all. Not knowing what else to do, Wendy took a seat back down at the table.

Damien released her arm when they were out of earshot, turning around and staring at her, struggling to contain his rage. "What are you thinking?" he demanded.

"I'm thinking about how I want some breakfast," Wisteria answered, checking her nails.

He crossed his arms. "Don't act like that. Why are you doing this? Helping her escape is one thing, but letting her live here? That's crossing the line."

She frowned at him. "She has nowhere else to go. She's a lost child right now, she'll go crawling back to her mother if we don't take her in."

Damien gritted his teeth. "That's not our problem. I know it's harsh, but—"

"Damien." Her voice was dangerously low. "We're going to help her. You're going to help her."

"Why?" he shouted, not caring if Wendy would hear. The moment he raised his voice, Wisteria started walking away.

"Because," she said, not even looking at him, "what goes around, comes around."