Red Herrings?

Sunbeams were shining, birds were singing, bees were buzzing. Charlotte was choosing happy, making her own fun now. Last night, after her day of enjoying her vocation of gardening, she had returned home to her new dwelling in her childhood bedroom. There the mail had included her divorce, which she had been compelled to seek.

Charlotte still did not want to think about her ex, Corey. "Maybe all women only get married to get divorced," she thought. Her lips were zipped, as she nurtured, staked and pruned, planting blooms. "I must bloom where I am planted now," she decided. "Choose happy, with gal power."

Before Corey had left her, heading way off west, he had accused her of such nonsense. Drunk, he had invented 750 billion lovers she had never met. Stunned, she had declared, "Well, I must have had great fun, while I was cooking your meals and washing your underwear!"

Charlotte was not a sometimes fiery redhead for nothing. That was in her bloodline, her genomes. Corey's dinner that night had been hurled against the wall, sort of a graphic way to end their vows. Charlotte should have realize that there was another woman involved.

Corey had left, traveled interstate. His social media soon showed him draped all over a bimbo blonde, in fact slobbering on her phony smile. "Peroxide is welcome to him. She'll learn...." That photograph did change the course of Charlotte's past and future. She did not even need legal representatives, nothing further to discuss. She had handled it all with a minimum of womanly fuss.

She kept on with her low salaried career, holding her own in this man's world of horticulture, clad in her overalls, still cute. Still with that flash of fire, and a pretty smile. Charlotte was 28 years old, but more than slightly repulsed by any male that tried things on with her. She had met a few men in the course of her daily toiling, but kept a discreet distance.

But, remaining optimistic, she believed in planting prayers for her world that flowed by. Her folks had provided a refuge from that red herring, the toxic environment of her marital disharmony. Her parents were now seniors, definitely enjoying making their own fun. Travel, grey nomads, adventures, cooking new recipes, staying in touch with old and new buddies.

Bob and Carol, Charlotte's parents, could not understand why she could now find calm in the psalms, quietly trying to nurture a peaceful life, no more melodramas. She was saving up to live independently again, but housing was unrealistic at this stage.

Charlotte's boss approached her in this sunny, pleasant garden, and suggested she apply for a job opportunity. He believed she could take on a male-dominated branch of gardening. The vacancy offered was in the noble aspect of grounds keeping, largely devoted to growing turf for sporting fields, in all seasons.

Charlotte agreed, this was an answer to one of her prayers, increasing her income. She was up to the challenge. The seasons in her new job flowed past, it was winter ending, then early Spring. The largest football field in her state needed to be prepared for that momentous final to end all finals, the quest for the premiership, ultimate victory.

Charlotte was keeping her end up, but the turf had, unfortunately, developed a very naughty fungus. This had affected that emerald field of sporting achievements. The grounds keepers kept on toiling overtime. One evening, Charlotte was adding some of her unique nurturing, but was slightly annoyed by the team of finalists, taking pot shots at goal kicking. It was very inconvenient.

So, flashing a bit of chick power attitude, clad in her gardening gear, she marched up to these testosterone-infused males, and approached their captain. She did feel the need to express her displeasure at their insensitive ways of damaging her handiwork there.

The captain of these football hopefuls towered over Charlotte. Jacob was the star, a very young and lively hero, a match winner. He was only 23, an early captain, blonde, handsome, long muscly thighs. He lived for football, but all the woman in town in that social scene had more than cast their charms in his directions. Like Charlotte cared!

Jacob''s piercing blue eyes sparkled, as he eyed off Charlotte. He definitely liked what he saw. Cute and trying to smile, presenting quite a saucy picture. He agreed to suspend the team's practice session, and led them all to their change rooms, for team bonding and motivation.

Jacob was an amiable fellow, not to fussed by media hype, but did look more than appealing when he changed from his shorts to his team tracksuit. He waited in the football stadium's car park for Charlotte to finish weaving her turf magic.

He said, "Great grass!" Charlotte tried not to laugh. She was hoping not to say, "Thanks, cutie." Bit gauche. Some days, she was known to only open her mouth to change feet. Yes, one might say the contagious 'foot in mouth' disorder can spread among humans.

Jacob asked if he could phone her, perhaps meet and greet over a coffee or cocktails .Charlotte gave him her phone number, as he said, "See ya!"

"Maybe, maybe not, I am used to male red herrings. More nonsense!' she told herself, being basically a practical, now sensible woman.

Charlotte had not invented some accepted rules in society, that older chicks were not supposed to mingle with younger males. The reverse situation was all right for men, if that is what they called themselves.

But Jacob did phone, soon texting and emojis ensued. Charlotte still aimed to stay calm in the psalms, planting some more prayers for one true love that could transcend some arbitrary rules. Jacob's team overcome, he won the grand final, the ultimate .The turf held its own, great grass. The grounds keepers all got accolades for producing such an emerald, smooth playing surface.

Jacob did play on, a success. He did somehow win the hand of fiery, slightly jaundiced, Charlotte. Their love bloomed, as they nurtured the sunbeams of love. It was not even a red herring. Bob and Carol were totally thrilled, for lots of reasons. Now Carol could regain her craft den.

Charlotte did send updated blooming, cute, growing baby photos to Bob and Carol, off on their latest grey tour. Jacob and Charlotte flourished, nurturing their love, transcending the so-called rules. Corey had been a waste of space, so red herrings and baggage .Charlotte kept on gardening, and planting prayers for her world, growing and developing, still of fire, but blooming in love.