Lily turned the berry over in her hands, inspected it for any imperfections or bruises. It was the first crop of the season for her garden and, being the conscietious woman she was (some would say anal), she intended to get a comprehensive understanding of its quality. Assured that everything was in order, Lily placed the strawberry in her mouth, carefully chewing to check its flavor. Sweet, water-thin juice filled her mouth on the first bite—the light, red liquid dribbling down her chin from where her teeth had sunken in. Drops of it fell down, further wetting the soil.
"Up to standard?" asked a voice in the near-distance, a voice Lily recognized as belonging to her neighbor, Meadow. Lily and Meadow had been living next to each other in their bucolic town for three or so years, and knew each other quite well by that point. In fact, the two were so close to each other that a certain... awkwardness had been arising between them as of late. Said awkwardness coming about primarily from the mutual, unspoken yearning which seemed only to build with each night at the bar together or dinner shared at the local ethiopian restaurant (how their small town had managed to get a ethiopian restaurant, no one was quite sure, but nor did they have any cause to complain based off the food's quality).
Up to standard? Lily thought. Of course it's up to standard. You think I'd let these plants get the better of me? Half of these strawberries are going to you in the form of my tarts, after all, so I can accept only the very best. But instead of putting these thoughts to words, Lily stood up and brushed the dirt from her gloves. Even with the shade from her hat, she had to squint to see Meadow's form in the midday sun. A storm was brewing in the distance, but it'd be a while before that came to provide any cover.
Tall and with flowing black hair, Meadow ambled along the garden path, making her way from Lily's small cottage and back to the strawberry patch. She waved to Lily as she came. Lily waved back.
"They certainly look good," Meadow said, flashing a smile to her neighbor that Lily thought was nearly as radiant as the shabby ball of hydrogen they called a star. Lily tried to return the smile, but succeeded only in forming a mild grimace on her face, which was accentuated by the way she was forced to squint.
"Yeah, it looks to be a good crop, Meadow. At least, as good as last year's."
"Oh, that good?"
"Well, the weather's been favorable for once... twice I suppose it you count last year"
Meadow was close enough now that Lily could make out the faded band name on her tank-top. "Don't be modest. The weather didn't do more for those plants than your attention did."
Lord knows that's true. Lily shrugged. "I try." She shifted her feet on the ground, began rubbing the back of her head. "So, what can I thank for this visit?"
"Oh, I don't know. I was just sitting in my house on this lovely day and thought, hell, why not see if you're around?"
"So you were bored?" Lily asked with a chuckle.
"More than that..." Meadow dithered, her face beginning to gain a rozier complexion. In the unrelenting light, however, Lily couldn't see this florid change.
"'More than that' in the sense you were in the mood for strawberries? Cause if you give me a few minutes I should be able to scrounge up enough for us to have a little snack." Lily picked up the basket she had brought to harvest the ripe fruits. "In fact," she continued, rubbing her chin with her other hand, "I bought some fresh cream recently. Dip these bad boys in that and I think we could have a nice midday treat."
Meadow smiled faintly and looked off to the side. "That does sound nice. But... it isn't the reason I came over, either."
"No?" Lily said, cocking her head to the side.
Meadow shifted her gaze, meeting Lily's eyes with an unexpected force. "No." She bit her bottom lip at her neighbor's growing bemusement. "Ah, I know this isn't the best moment... Yet, I feel I need to tell you this now or I'll never work up the courage to try again."
Lily stood dumbfounded for a moment, willing the massive and inscrutable gears of her mind to grind against another just a little harder. She ran through every response she could think of while Meadow stood uneasily before her in lovely summer sun. Finally, after much internal deliberation, Lily earnestly settled on this: "you want to borrow a cup of sugar or something?"
There was no tinge of sarcasm in her voice, not even the smallest hint. Which was good, because if there was Meadow would've walked right up to her, delivered a righteous slap, and promptly marched off never to be seen again in Lily's presence. However, the truth was that the green-thumbed woman's mind was more like that of some gargantuan and ancient turtle than a normal human's, being that once she figured something out or gained new knowledge, it stuck in her mind for all eternity. Conversely, it took eons for her to work certain things out, particularly if they were things that might be uncomfortable to acknowledge.
Meadow was starting to fume, the red of her face now owing more to anger. Though she shortly settled after a couple of deep breaths. An airplane flew overhead while she calmed herself.
"I don't think I've been clear enough with you," she said in a measured tone. "You see, I was sitting in my kitchen with nothing to do and I just happened to see you out here. So, being that I had nothing to do, I decided to watch you while you gardened. At first I just thought you looked cute with how focused you were, face scrunched up in the sun, bent over your plants. But I kept watching, kept looking out at you from my window, and.. I don't know, something came over me—a kind of lucidity."
Lily continued her obdurate misunderstanding, though trickles of an idea were now forming in her mind, soon to turn into a river. Meadow saw this coming realization dawning and gently wet her lips with her tongue. The eye-contact she began the talk with was too tense for her to maintain, so she again turned to see the leaves of strawberry plants rustle in a quiet wind.
"I don't want us to keep acting like we're just friends, Lily. Before it seemed like admitting that might cause an end to the light our friendship shone into my life, that you could reject me and we'd be through. I can see now how cowardly that kind of thinking is. What I'm trying to say is that I love you, Lily, I probably have all the time I've known you."
Lily was silent. The only noises that came to Meadow's ears were the distant humming of insects and steady breath of the breeze. Still, she was unable to look up to gauge Lily's reaction to her proclamation of love. It continued this way, with no change in feedback, Meadow's fears seemingly confirmed and coalescing into a cimmerian dread.
Then, as the last vestiges of hope were fading from Meadow like the sun at dusk, she felt a pair of hands grasp onto her shoulders. She snapped her head back and was met with Lily's piercing gaze. The gardener's dark brown eyes held a supernatural power, deep as ancient caves and dark as a rich mahogany; they rooted Meadow to the spot. The work gloves and sunhat lay discarded on the open dirt.
"Can I kiss you?" Lily asked in a flat voice.
