Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
One end of the pool was shaded by trees Greta didn’t recognize that dropped pods into the pool when the wind blew, and the other side was in full sun. Chaise longues and side tables were clustered around the pool and held three more people who stood to greet them.
Carys made introductions, for which Greta was grateful.
Tana was a middle school teacher with a huge grin who swore more than anyone Greta had ever heard. After greeting everyone, she and Veronica holed up on a chaise and began intently discussing a book they were both reading.
The man named Jacob seemed to be Matthew’s boyfriend. He looked like he could be an underwear model but was actually a painter. He was as shy as Matthew was gregarious, and though he smiled warmly at everyone, he seemed happy to listen rather than participate in the conversation.
Lur was originally from Cuba and had come to Tulane for grad school the year before. She studied sociology, as did Rae, and they’d met at a lecture and become fast friends. Lur was interested to hear about Maine—since arriving in the U.S., she’d only traveled around Louisiana and Texas.
As the sun set, solar-powered lights began to glow around the yard. It was a warm evening for December, and people began to get in the pool.
Veronica had on a stunning white bikini, Jacob and Matthew both sported cute swim trunks, and Carys undressed to reveal her gorgeous curves in a high-waisted suit that looked like something out of a glam forties movie.
Suddenly, Greta felt self-conscious.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Carys asked.
“Oh, well, I didn’t bring a suit,” Greta hemmed. “So I’m just wearing a sports bra and underwear.”
“No one cares. Don’t worry about it,” Carys said.
“Are you sure?”
Lur had unwrapped her dress and was sliding into the pool in a belted red one-piece that showed off multiple pin-up tattoos.
“Absolutely positive,” Carys said. She pressed a kiss to Greta’s lips.
Then Helen stripped their T-shirt and jeans off to reveal they were wearing nearly the same thing as Greta.
“See?”
She nodded, relieved.
The water was warmer than she’d expected. In Maine, even in the summer, the bay and ocean were chilly, and Greta had tightened her muscles in anticipation. But this felt like stepping into a cool bath, and Greta relaxed and let the water hold her.
They bopped a ball around for a little while, but mostly people just kept chatting, only in the water.
“How was your gardening thing this morning?” Carys asked.
“It was so cool,” Greta said and told her all about Muriel’s friends and the work they did helping get plants and flowers into more neighborhoods in the city.
“Hey, Tana,” Carys called, and Tana swam over to them. “Were you telling me about doing new after-school activities with your kids?”
“Yeah, we’re doing this whole fuckin’ programming initiative right now. If the damn school will cough up the money.”
“Are you doing anything with gardens?”
“Shit, yeah. We’re trying to get some of those fuckin’…whaddaya call ’em? Wooden beds?”
“Raised beds?” Greta offered.
“Yeah, those. I read that growing your own shit makes kids more excited to eat their vegetables or some crap.”
Greta smiled and imagined Tana swearing this much around middle school kids.
“Well, Greta is a huge plant nerd. Would you ever want someone to tell the kids about carnivorous plants?”
“Carnivorous plants? Oh hell yes, they would love the shit out of that. Middle schoolers are psychopathic monsters, just as a rule, so they love anything that’s fucked up!”
“Great,” Carys said and squeezed Greta’s side.
“If you’re looking for people to help with building a garden, I know this group. They’re pretty rad older people who’ve done a lot of volunteering with different communities,” Greta offered. “I could ask if they want to help?”
“Dude, if they wanna volunteer, I will abso-fucking-lutely take them up on that because we have no damn money.”
“Cool, Greta can ask them about helping with the garden, and she can do a thing about carnivorous plants,” Carys said.
“Hell yes! I’ll get your number when we’re not, ya know, in a pool.”
“Okay, great, thank you.”
Greta’s head was abuzz with all the things she wanted to show the kids about the amazing world of carnivorous plants. First she’d have to get some here—it was much more interesting if she could demonstrate the way they consume and how they move. Surely there was a local plant store that had them in the city, given the climate.
Carys nuzzled her neck, and Greta turned into her embrace.
“Wow, thank you,” she said. “I never would’ve asked anything like that.”
“I know,” Carys said. “But sometimes you can’t wait around for someone to notice you’ve got something to offer. You’ve gotta offer it.”
Greta thought of all the times she’d hoped for opportunities to be presented to her. She’d worked hard to always seem responsible and dedicated. But she’d never been a squeaky wheel. She’d watched as other people were chosen for opportunities she would love to have and always figured it was because they were more qualified or more appealing than her.