A Couple of Years of Gardening (Chapter 1) (standard:romance, 1823 words) [1/10] show all parts
Author: kmr412002	Updated: Apr 27 2008	Views/Reads: 3318/2111	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The courtship and marriage of a detective as told by his wife.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“That I didn't care about people saying how different we were. Hell, I
didn't care what we said about each other. Remember?” 

I sit down on the bench smiling up at him. “How many times did we tell
each other there's no way in the world is this going to work; that we 
were crazy for trying so hard to hold on.” 

He sits beside me and kisses the top of my hand.  Then he whispers in my
ear, “Hey, I got a surprise for you. Feel up to taking a walk?” 

We walk over to the police garage. In the back there is a storage area
and I see it then. It is old rusted wrought iron gate that would 
probably mean little to anyone but me. At first glance, it looks like 
it is heading to a scrap yard. Of course, Jack knows how much it means 
to me. 

I put my hands to my face. “Oh, my God. Sweetheart, where did you--?” 

“Hey, I told you that you had my heart. Whenever I go through the park,
I think about that day, that night at Em's house. I wanted you to 
remember that, too. I was going to wait until I got home tonight, but I 
thought you could use this.” 

The gate had a heart design woven through it. Dried vines were threaded
through it, as if someone had loved it like I do now. We had many 
lunches by that gate in Central Park. It seemed nearly every time I saw 
it, I took a picture of it, because the solitariness of it touched me.  
Jack had noticed that landscaping work was being done and when workers 
began removing the fence where the gate was located, he made a couple 
of calls, called in a few favors, and got the gate. 

“It'll look great in your garden.” 

“Our garden.”  I take his hand and place it on my belly. 

He hugs me and says, “Hey, you owe me one. Will you do me a favor?” 

I look at him suspiciously, “Yea?” 

“Tell Ernan that I want a picture of you.” 

“After the baby is born.” 

He shakes his head as he touches my face, “No, now.” 

I whine, “Jack.” 

“When I saw you sitting there in the precinct, I thought of all the
things you've brought into my life. I know this is not exactly a picnic 
for you, but I know as much as you wanted a baby, a part of this is 
also for me.”  He's embarrassed and shakes his head. “Just please, do 
this.” 

I kiss him. “I'll call Ernan.” 

I haven't seen Ernan and Irma since our wedding. When I get out of the
car in front of their home, Irma runs out of the house squealing. All 
she can say is, “Look at you.” 

Ernan just grins. He touches my hair, “It must have been worth the
fight.” 

I nod and hug him. 

Several years ago, every two or three weeks, I would fly into New York
as part of my work as a photo editor in Atlanta. Sometimes, I stayed 
with a childhood friend, Kate and her fiancee, David.  Ever since, she 
had made detective at the NYPD, she complained about her partner. She 
said he was sharp and very good at his work, but he was intense and 
moody. They never seemed to be on the same page when they worked a 
case. He would gladly give her credit for a collar rather than share 
any of his intuition or insight about a case they were trying to solve. 


Kate is having an engagement party. She is so busy preparing the food,
that I get the job of greeting guests.  While I'm greeting and 
directing people where to put their coats and purses, a very serious 
blonde hands me a glass and asks me to get her another drink. I know 
I've seen him somewhere before, but I can't recall. I take the glass, 
but it slips from my hand making a terrible clunking sound as it 
bounces off the fireplace mantle. 

He smiles at me and picks up the glass, “Megan, she's not the help.” 

He pauses holding the glass in midair.  He says, “Hey, wait, I remember
you. You're a friend of Kate's, right?” 

I nod as I take the glass from his hands, I say, “It seems I'm the one
who keeps dropping things.” 

He says, “I don't remember that.  I do remember you.” There is a pause,
and then Megan chirps up, “Well, Nina, maybe you can help us.  We've 
been arguing about where to spend our honeymoon.  Do you know of some 
great secluded places?  Kate says you're quite the traveler.” 

Jack clears his throat and looks down. 

I'm about to answer when I hear Kate call my name. I excuse myself and
go back to the kitchen. David and Kate are arguing about why she just 
didn't get this thing catered.  I busy myself taking trays back and 
forth. 

Then, I feel sorry for Kate. On top of having to throw this party, she
had a huge argument with her partner. She didn't have time to go into 
details, but as she chopped vegetables, I was sure someone would be 
visiting the emergency room before the evening was over. It upset her 
so much, she was thinking of quitting the force. 

Hey, while I'm feeling sorry for Kate, maybe I can feel sorry for
myself. I take a glass of wine and slip out to the front porch. I sit 
in a chair and look at stars recalling that constantly occurring dream. 
“What is it?  What is it?” I repeat to myself as I do in the dream. 

“What is what?”  I hear a male voice and whirl around. It's that guy. He
says, “I'm sorry I startled you. Do you want to be alone?” 

I shake my head and nod toward the empty seat. He says, “Let me guess.
You're an artist, but I get the feeling you're a nomad. You don't stay 
in one place too long.”  He looks down at the ring on my left hand. 
“That must be hard on marriages.” 

“That's pretty good. You're nearly right. Why the nomad part?” “Your
eyes. You look like you wish you'd rather be some place else.” 

I smile uncomfortably and try to sound flip, “Maybe, I'm just bored.” 

He shakes his head and gives a little smile. 

I stand up and say, “I'm going to check on Kate. She's had a rotten day.
It seems her partner is an insensitive jerk.” 

Before I get up to leave I hold out my hand and say, “I'm Nina.” 

He shakes my hand, “I'm Jack, the Insensitive Jerk.” My jaw drops open,
“I'm sorry. I had no idea.” 

He says, “Why do I think even if you had known who I was, that wouldn't
have stopped you?” 

I smile and shrug, “You're the detective. You tell me.” 


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