Linda picked a yellow and white daisy from her flowerbed. She had found the perfect one with all of its petals symmetrically positioned around a happy, yellow center. She stuck the green stem behind her ear. As a school girl she would’ve sat in the grass and gently pulled the petals from the flower while repeating, “He loves me, he loves me not.” Linda didn’t have to that now. She already knew that he loved her. He had told her only a few minutes ago. She could still feel his hot breath on her ear as the raspy, thick words escaped his lips. The tear that slid down his cheek let her know that he really meant it.
Linda always had a soft spot for sensitive men. Tom was less sensitive then most. He held out for as long as he could, but in the end he couldn’t hide his true feelings. She had a knack for bringing out their true feelings. She thought it was her strong confidence that made them feel comfortable enough with her to let go.
She wandered over to the tomato patch. The plants were growing so well now. A few ripe fruit hung low and heavy from the plants. She picked them and brought them into the kitchen. Tom would love a tomato and cucumber salad. It’s the perfect summer snack, she thought as she washed and sliced the deep red tomatoes. She dropped them in the bowl with the cucumbers she’d already cut.
Linda loved the simplicity of her life–growing her own food, sewing her own clothes. She only had to go into town occasionally for supplies. Men always seemed to want to go out, but Linda never understood why. The comforts of home were enough for her.
“I made a nice salad,” Linda called from the kitchen.
She waited for Tom to answer. He didn’t.
After mixing it well, Linda dished the salad out into to small wooden bowls. She’d take it to him. That’s the least she could do after all he’d done for her.
Linda descended the stairs to the basement. “You’ll love this salad. I’ve even added a touch of mint,” she said. Her words were met with unusual silence.
As she got further down the stairs the damp, heavy air filled her lungs. There were puddles on the floor from the previous night’s rain. She’d stopped the basement from flooding but it still wasn’t completely waterproof. She was hoping that Tom would be able to fix that for her eventually.
“Tom?” She looked to the corner beneath the narrow window where he usually sat. She could see his silhouette swaying against the light. The length of the chain she’d shackled around his wrists from the beam in the ceiling was pulled taunt around his neck. Though his feet touched the floor his legs were limp.
Linda sighed and placed the salad bowls on the floor. Was this the way all her relationships would end? she wondered. She retrieved the toolbox from a shelf in the corner. She’d have to take the chain out of the beam to get him down.
“I guess you’ll have to join the others in the garden,” she said.
Photo by Ajith_chatie