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Phil gasps and stops abruptly. “There’s a dog!” he says breathlessly.
Dan puts his hand on his chest. “Jesus Christ, man, give me a heart attack.” Then, with moderate interest. “Where?”
Phil points into the shop. The entire store front is glass, and behind it is a frothing mass of green. Right in front of the counter a shaggy white and black dog is sitting, calmly surveying its surroundings.
“Oh, alright, there’s a dog, is there? And not not a word about the houseplants?” Dan rolls his eyes.
Phil waves his hand at him. “Shush! We’re gonna say hi to the dog.” He walks forward with determination.
They’re officially just taking a nice walk to have a look at the new neighborhood, so Dan knows Phil will kick up a fuss if he tries to argue further. He follows docilely behind. It’s not like petting a dog is going to be a hardship, provided it wants to be petted of course.
“Hello!” Phil says and smiles to the store clerk. “Can we pet the dog?”
“Oh, absolutely! That’s what she thinks she’s here for!” the clerk, who has a blonde fringe a tiny almost imperceptible nose piercing, says and smiles and wipes her hands on her hunter green apron.
Phil is already squatting in front of the dog, and it is wagging its tail but not jumping up or trying to lick his face. Phil is cooing and talking nonsense.
“She loves the attention,” the clerk says.
Dan sits and holds his hand out to dog, who shuffles over to sniff, entire body flopping side to side with subdued excitement.
“Hello,” he says. Its chocolate brown eyes are soulful and adorable. “So well-mannered!”
“Well, you’ve got to be if you want to be a shop dog,” the clerk says.
Phil has finished petting the dog and has wandered off to look at the plants. Dan pretends not to notice.
“Can I help you find anything?” she asks.
“Oh no,” Phil says. “Just looking.”
“Just looking,” Dan emphasises and gets up, dusting off his hands.
Phil ignores him. “This one looks like that one by the sofa!” he says and points.
“Exactly.”
Phil rolls his eyes. He’s rubbing a waxy leaf between his fingers thoughtfully.
There’s a special scent in here. It’s cool and damp and sharply green. It does feel nice and fresh. Dan follows as Phil wanders.
“Spiky boy,” Phil mumbles and points to a cactus with inch-long spikes.
“Definitely not getting that one,” Dan mumbles. “Cac lad.”
“This one looks like a feather, look!” Phil runs a finger over a single leaf that has been stuck into a small glass vase. “Can they just live like that?”
Dan shrugs.
The clerk looks up from the register. “We’re actually propagating them. You can spawn a new plant by leaving a single leaf to grow roots. You buy it like that, take it home, keep it in water and when the roots are ready after four to six weeks you plant it in soil.”
“I did try making some baby succulents once but they didn’t really take,” Phil replies and wanders closer to her.
“Succulents are usually quite easy to propagate. Maybe you weren’t quite patient enough. Sometimes they take a bit of time to start growing roots.”
“See! We should have just left them longer!” Phil says to Dan.
“They were dried up little husks. I sincerely doubt they would have sprouted anything.”
“They do actually have to dry out quite a bit,” the clerk says as they come closer. At least she has the good grace to look slightly apologetic.
Phil’s face says it all.
“Alright, fine! I guess you’ll have to try again when you get home!” Dan says and writhes sarcastically.
Phil makes another face. Dan rolls his eyes.
“Can we get one of those feather leaf things?” he asks, already reaching for his wallet.
“Yes, of course,” she says smoothly and goes to get one.
The dog takes the lull in conversation as an excuse to jump into a chair that Dan thought was only there for display.
“Aww, look!” Phil coos.
The wicker chair is surrounded on all sides by a true mini forrest of dark green houseplants. She sits and stares soulfully at them as if she is sad and disappointed not to receive any more pats.
“Goals!?” Phil whines and pets the dog, who wags her tail slowly as if she knows she’s on borrowed time.
Dan can’t help but snort. “It is gonna look like that eventually if you don’t stop adding new plants. Full jungle.”
“Would that be so bad?” Phil twists and looks at him.
Dan shrugs, because he refuses to give in further than he already has.
“Alright, here we go,” says the clerk. “I have some instructions here on how to get from sapling to potted plant.” She holds up a pamphlet.
“Ooh, thank you!” Phil says and takes the wrapped plant and pamphlet.
“We do also have propagation workshops where we get to go into much more detail, answer all your questions, give some practical advice.” She looks at Dan and grins. “Fun for the whole family.”
“Alright, thanks,” he says with a wry smile, fully aware that he is being teased now.
She leans across the counter and stage whispers to Phil: “And you do get to take the saplings home with you after.”
“Okay, alright, okay, thank you!” Dan says and starts to mock hustle Phil out of the shop.
Phil giggles and lets himself be guided out of the shop. “Thank you!” he calls to the clerk. “Bye, doggo!”
He falls into step next to Dan. “This is a nice place.”
Dan laughs. “Oh, is it now?”
“Yeah,” Phil says and smiles.
Dan shakes his head.