The Seed

Brandon watched from the couch as his girlfriend Becky came home with another trendy house plant that all the social media influencers were peddling. He knew Becky did not have a green thumb and he knew that she knew she didn’t have one either. Yet here she was coming home with another plant that was sure to die just like all the others. A waste of time, a waste of life, and a waste of money. He restrained himself from commenting. He had learned from enough senseless fights that it was not worth it. Instead, he rolled off the couch and went to the kitchen for a snack. 

On the kitchen table there was a bowl of peaches that they had picked up on Friday at the farmer’s market. He paused, considering the fuzzy skin, then acquiesced to the saliva forming in his mouth. He bit into the peach and allowed the juices to run down his hand. He took another bite and another bite, until he devoured the yellow flesh down to the pit. As he licked the juices from his arm, her heard Becky enter the room. He turned to her, with his tongue still wiping up his arms, and she frowned. 

“What? Are you a neanderthal?”

Brandon furrowed his brows, ready to retaliate, but he paused. He was tired of fighting. Tired of retreating to the couch. He was ready for a change. He turned around from Becky and washed his sticky hands at the kitchen sink. As he dried his hands, he looked at the peach pit on the counter and considered it. 

Without a second thought, Brandon picked up the pit and went outside. He rummaged through the shed for a shovel and the went out into the center of the rear lawn and began to dig a hole. He pried open the pit and dropped the seed in the hole and covered it with soil. He went back into the house to fetch the watering can that Becky seldom used. It was a trendy rose pink color that looked silly in Brandon’s hands, but it served his needs. He filled the canister with water and watered the dirt patch that housed the seed. 

For several days, Brandon performed this ritual, until a few days of torrential downpours did the watering for him. Then he continued his ritual watering until he saw the signs of a sprout. He then looked around him at his mono-cultured lawn and thought of the possibilities. 

In spring the following year, the little peach tree was still hanging on the in center of the lawn. To the south of the tree, Brandon used twine to mark out the rows of the next addition of the garden. He started off with Kale, since that was Becky’s recent thing. He also included a section dedicated to cherry tomatoes, and beets. In the noon-day sun he found himself tilling the soil until it was loose enough to plant the seeds. After the day’s labor was done, Brandon went inside to rest. As he took huge mouthfuls of water, Becky walked by and held her nose. 

“You smell awful,” she said. 

Brandon frowned. 

By summer, Brandon had already harvested the first of the kale. Becky enjoyed the salad he had made and began to join Brandon in the garden. At first she would watch from a distance, then she began to be a close observer of Brandon’s labor, asking questions about why he did things a certain way. And how long it would take before there would be peaches. 

“Not for another year at least,” Brandon responded as he tended the little sapling. 

In fall, Becky surprised Brandon with a handful of seeds. 

“to plant in our garden,” she said. “Also,” she said looking down at her abdomen. 

Brandon smiled. He looked out to the garden and imagined the garden, this time a little differently. It was the same vision of the peach tree standing tall, but this time, with a child climbing in the branches. 

The following spring, Brandon expanded the garden’s footprint. He did not enjoy the beets last year and this time attempted potatoes, an heirloom variety of tomatoes, two types of lettuce, and pumpkin. Together, Becky and Brandon worked, excited at the success of their seedlings. Even the baby kicked for joy, making the couple laugh. 

By summer Becky remained inside to take care of their newborn son while Brandon continued to tend the garden. This year was proving to be more successful, and he reveled in the lush leaves of his potatoes and tomatoes, but there was some disappointment because the peach tree was still not producing fruit. When he shared this news with Becky, she smiled sweetly at him. 

“Think of it. By next year, little Liam will be able to enjoy one of the peaches.”

With this, Brandon smiled too. He looked at the garden and wished desperately for this time next year. 

The fall harvest produced more potatoes than Brandon knew what to do with, forcing him to clear out the basement and build shelving. They now had shelves filled with pickled beets that only Becky’s mom enjoyed, tomato sauces, and now potatoes. 

Throughout the winter, Brandon planned and diagrammed what would be his most ambitious garden to date. Expanding to the left, he would create a section for fruit bushes; strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries. To the right he would try his hand at carrots, peas, and other vegetables that would be good for Liam to eat. He also considered bell peppers with a selection of herbs. With his diagram finished, he was anxious for March. 

Spring started late that year, with the last snow occurring in mid-April to Brandon’s chagrin. He had planted the blueberry bushes to early and they looked wilted and sorry. But by May, the strawberries were already growing their first flowers and little Liam was beginning to walk; his favorite spot being the Peach tree. As he watched his son play, he noticed the formation of fruit on the tree. 

“What’s going on?” Becky asked as she scooped up their son.

“It looks like we may have peaches after all this year.”

As the weeks dragged on, the couple grew obsessed with the development of the peach tree. 

“How do they look?” Becky would ask after Brandon came in from the garden. 

He would always gesture with his hands the size of the fruit. First they were the size of half-dollar. Then the ‘o’ formed when gesturing the okay sign. Soon they were the size of Becky’s fist. And then, they were starting to turn yellow. 

“Any day now,” Brandon said. Which made even little Liam clap his hands in excitement. 

In early August, Brandon walked inside the house with his hands behind his back and Becky perked up. 

“They’re ready?”

Brandon shook his head. He pulled out two peaches from behind his back and set them on the table. It brought him back a couple of years ago. When he ate the first juicy peach that started it all.