The Hydrangea Situation

April seventh. We went for the succulents. I want to be clear about that. There was a sign outside the community center on Tuesday that said SPRING PLANT SALE, SATURDAY 9AM, and Simone texted me a photo of it that night with the words 'succulent money is $3 right.' So I knew exactly what we were there for and approximately how long it should take.

What I did not account for was the hydrangea table. Or more specifically: Simone's response to the hydrangea table. She stopped in front of a large purple one, full, aggressively in bloom, the kind of plant that is clearly thriving and knows it, and she just stood there. Arms crossed. Head tilted. The look she gets when she is performing due diligence on a decision she has already emotionally made but will not admit to yet. I got out of her way and took a photograph because what else do you do.

Forty minutes. That is how long we were at that table. Not the whole sale, just that table, with occasional side trips to the succulents, which we had both forgotten were the original reason we came. I bought a $3 rosemary plant I do not have a spot for. Simone bought nothing. She put the hydrangea down twice, picked it up once, put it down a final time, and then walked away with the composure of someone who has made peace with a difficult choice. We did not discuss it on the bus home.

the hydrangea, presiding

Gerald is fine, for the record. He does not need company. I told him about the rosemary and he seemed unbothered.

me, extremely confident about what kind of plant this is