Robert

Karen tossed the trowel down at her feet and allowed herself the deep, growling sigh she'd wanted to unleash for so many hours. She turned to survey what was behind her: rows and rows of mounds of dirt. None of it looked like anything right now, but in the coming months little green hands, then arms, would begin to poke out to reach the light. And then the bounty; fresh vegetables all her own by her own hands. ###
She removed her gloves and tosses them to the ground next to the trowel. Karen drew a dry hand across her brow and wiped away the sweat. She stepped toward the house to find her phone and to take a picture of this upturned patch of dirt and text it to Brian with a cute little message. Karen wanted anything to keep her hands occupied. Usually, after work like this, she was dipping into her right pocket for the pack and her left for the lighter. But not anymore. She was healthy now, as of very recently. ###
Brian's phone buzzed against his desk. He flipped it over and found Karen's photo and the message she's settled on. (“Now make it rain!” A silly joke they shared.) Brian was ready with a reply, but he couldn't work his fingers to type it yet for the impish smile bending his lips. Thank god he had an office to himself. No one would respect a boss who chuckles. ###
“Great work”, he typed and hit Send. A pause for dramatic effect. “I can't wait til the sprouting starts”. Pause again, this time just a blink or two longer. “I made a pitcher of water for you but forget it on the counter. Sorry.” Brian cleared his screen and slapped the phone back down on his desk. The intern stationed just around the corner from his office didn't consider the reason for the fit of hee-hee-heeing she'd just heard leak through the door. ###
I hope the water's still cold, Karen . She backtracked to the kitchen and saw the oversized thermos as promised, right next to the sink. The bastard, she thought. Karen spun the cylinder around to confirm her immediate outrage. ###
It was just the one. The stupid thing she'd saved box labels for all during their honeymoon camping trip. Karen told Brian that with enough miles or “buckz” or whatever they were calling them, she could buy a canoe and before the end of summer they could make the trip again but float down the river. She tucked the scraps of box in pockets and in her backpack, but at the end of the trip what she'd gathered plus what she always had at home in former blush box were not nearly enough for the the canoe. The best she could do was a thermos, and one emblazoned with the logo of her awful habit. At least it was something. ###
Karen unscrewed the top and upended its contents into the sink. None of that dirty water, she thought. ###
Brian's phone vibrated against his belly as he licked his fingers clean of cart-grade chili dog. He couldn't wait for Karen's reaction, and she'd made him wait already over an hour. With is pinkie, he navigated the screen to his text messages. Karen had sent a picture. He opened it; no text, just a picture. She'd found a use for the thermos as a planter. Only, it wasn't a plant positions straight up in the dirt. It was an object he knew more by feel than by sight. He took it as a sign she wanted to out to a movie that night. ###
“Fair enough”, he replied.