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A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in—what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.
—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
Had he generally, and yet also very specifically, chosen this plot of land? Yes he had. Was there a larger lot a couple of blocks over, that had better access? Yes there was. Was the soil in the clearing down by the creek much more fertile? Yes it was. Did any of that matter to him? Absolutely not. None of those plats were right, none of those parcels were adjacent to the old general store, none of those grounds had David Rose walking by them every day.
He knew he was choosing the more difficult route. He knew he wasn’t thinking with his head. His meeting with David a few weeks ago had opened his eyes to some fundamental truths about himself. He knew he had probably teased him too hard, but he had thought David had been in on it too, giving some of it back to him as well. But then a week went by and he hadn’t heard from him. He had hoped that he would have reached out to him if he needed help. But he never did.
He asked Ray about it, knowing that he was the king of gossip in town, wondered if the lease had fallen through or anything like that. He had been more than a little disappointed to learn that David had completed his forms on his own and had asked Ray to stop by the motel to pick them up so he wouldn’t have to come back to the office. He felt the sinking feeling of guilt and dismay wash over him. Had he made that horrible of a first impression? Was it truly possible that he had been so averse to seeing him again that he had solicited Ray’s help?
************
He was enjoying the nice weather as he walked towards the store. His store. He couldn’t believe it was really happening. Had he needed to submit his incorporation forms more than once? Yes he had. Was there a moment when he was so overwhelmed trying to verbalize his idea, that he feared his business was going to be a failure? Yes there was. Did the blame fall solely on the snippy, impatient, extremely sure of himself guy working at Ray’s? Yes it did. Had he overreacted when he stomped out of the live/work space and torn the little business card up? Absolutely not. Unless you asked Stevie. She had tried multiple times to convince him to go back, that surely he must have misread the situation, to ask for help. He just couldn’t face the potential criticism from a stranger, he was still licking his wounds from his parent's betrayal after all.
His first thought of the man had been that he was cute. Very cute, in a wholesome, small town kind of way. His hand was strong and warm when they’d touched. He thought there was something in his eyes when he looked at him, but no. He had barely even started to answer the questions when he began to make fun of him, laughing at his nervous rambling, finally telling him to just do it on his own. If he could have done it on his own, then what was the point of having the stupid meeting in the first place?
Oh my god. What was happening, the path in front of him was blocked by an insidious swirl of dirt and debris. He could hear some type of machinery, but whoever was operating it was deaf to his shouts. Inconsiderate prick. He threw up his hands and crossed over to the far side of the street. There was no part of him that could risk having a dirt tornado flying around him. He crossed from Bob’s Garage, to the Cafe, then back again towards the store.
************
This was a nightmare, he was kicking up a cloud of dust and debris over everything as ran the lawn mower over the site. The weeds were so tall and thick in some places, that he had to go over them twice. The rest was covered in gravel and dirt. He had to get this part done today. The mayor’s son was meeting him first thing in the morning to start building the elevated beds. His name was Mutt, but the town council had sworn by his work, and the mayor had called him a hippie freak that would love nothing more than to help with this project.
Once he finally finished, he took off his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He could feel the beginning of a burn on the back of his neck, he had forgotten to reapply his sunscreen throughout the day. He looked out across the street and there he was. He was standing on the sidewalk about to enter the old general store, but he was completely still, just staring in his direction.
************
He was poised to yell something snarky at the man disrupting his routine, but then he had taken off his shirt. Jesus. His back glistened in the sunlight, the muscles rippling as he moved, his biceps flexed as he used the disposed of shirt to wipe his brow. He was wearing horrific jean shorts, but they hugged all his curves and showed off his impressive calves. He was stunning. There was no other word for it. He was going to offer him a bottle of water, and the opportunity to cool off in the store, anything to figure out who he was, what his preferences were. But then he turned around. Fuck.
Of course it was that guy. Had all that really been hiding under his mid-range denim and button down shirt? Good lord. It was unfair that someone so hot was so rude and condescending. He expected that back in New York, but not here, this town had been a safe place for him and his family. Was he being a little hypocritical, maybe, but he at least was working on bettering himself.
He saw him, ugh, he was smiling and waving at him. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment. He quickly took the handful of steps up, unlocked the door, and was safely tucked away from the world.
************
He was really batting a 1000 here. He straight up ignored him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage another chance with him. Perhaps he could come up with something on the drive to the Elmdale Home Improvement Store for supplies.
He was lost in his thoughts and drove right past the Exit to Elmdale sign. By the time he realized his error, he was 30 minutes late to meet the woman with the truck needed to haul everything back to Schitt’s Creek.
Great. Now he had a second enemy in town. Almost everything was loaded by the time he arrived, and then the credit card he was using had a daily limit on it and he had forgotten to alert the company that he would be making a large purchase. So yeah, between daydreaming like a love-struck teenager and acting like he’d never bought anything in his life, he had thoroughly pissed off one Ronnie Lee.
************
He definitely had no interest in what was happening on the corner lot across from his store. None. The fact that he had to walk past said lot more than once was due to necessity and not a desire to see the sexy man working. And if he had started giving a nod in greeting, maybe a smile, or a wave so be it. He was just being nice. It was fine. He and Mutt were still working on building some sort of wooden structures. He was hammering and grunting and sweating. Those arms. It was all too much. How was he supposed to unpack and label his products when he knew what was going on outside?
He was smoothing out a label on one of the organic fruit and vegetable juice blends when he had an idea. A brilliant idea. He and Mutt were kind of friends by association, plus they had built that cedar chest together, and he hadn’t seen him in a while. He could use catching up with him as an excuse to go over there, see what they were building, see if what’s his name was still a jerk.
************
Every part of his body ached. He was filthy, covered in dirt, grime, sweat, and and even a bit of blood. They were finishing up the last one for the day, when he heard a soft voice from behind him. David Rose. He was so beautiful, somehow even more so than he remembered. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that fated day at Ray’s. His eyes were fixed on him, looking him up and down, probably judging how disgusting he was considering he had a sort of grimace, or pained look, on his face. Will he never catch a break with this guy?
He turned his attention to Mutt, who he actually seemed to like, making small talk about someone named Alexis and sweater storage. He was animatedly waving his hands around, much like he had the day they met, yeah it’s an environment, only now his hands were full. He was so adorable.
************
He didn’t know what he was rambling about. He had been so distracted when, what the hell was his name? He suddenly remembered it perfectly, Ray handing him the ticket “B13—“ then calling out “Patrick!” Yes. Patrick. He was definitely a Patrick. And definitely distracting. He was sweaty, and dirty, and he could smell his musky scent. He had to look away before he did anything stupid, like lick that drop of sweat that was currently running down the side of his throat.
Mutt really was a nice guy, he clearly inherited his genes and disposition from Jocelyn. They gladly accepted the juices, after Mutt clarified that they had not been made by Twyla. He gave them the spiel he had been working on, highlighting the benefits of the all organic ingredients, what farm he had sourced them from, their process, everything. Mutt seemed to zone out, but Patrick’s attention never faltered. He tried to parse from his expression if he still thought his business would be a failure.
************
Wow. Hearing him talk about his store in this context made it all clear. He could kick himself for not trying to better understand the concept when he had tried to explain it the first time. This was one of the most inventive ideas he’d heard in a long time. The consignment model would be very sustainable and would really help all the artisans in the region. He was about to try to express those sentiments when that adorable lilting voice continued to speak, asking them what they were building.
“A garden? Oh my god! Please tell me this isn’t the flower garden that council is building for my mother?”
“What? No, this is a community garden. Fruits and vegetables, not flowers.”
David bristled at that statement. His eyes no longer open and full of mirth.
************
He could not believe this guy. He was building a fruit and vegetable garden right next to his store? His store that was going to be selling fruits and vegetables sourced from the lovely Astorbrooke Farm. All organic, pesticide free produce. They had some intriguing hybrids that he could not wait to try. He wondered if Patrick here was going to experiment with his seeds or cross-pollinate? What if he had more variety or his price point was better? He was starting to spiral. He never considered that he would have competition, that the council would allow this to happen.
“David? Hey, David, are you okay?”
“I, ugh, I just. Hmmmm. One of my vendors will be supplying the store with fruits and vegetables. I just, why would you try to undermine me like this? I know you think my store is a terrible idea, but to actively try to put me out of business before I even open? Why would you do that?”
************
It had never occurred to him that David would be selling produce at his store. It never occurred to him because he had been more that a little distracted during their meeting and never actually saw the finished paperwork. He tried to calmly explain what a community garden was, how it operated, how beneficial it would be to, well, the community.
“A—what? It’s free? You’re going to be giving away produce directly across the street from my store? Why would anyone shop in my store if they could just get it for free here?”
“Uh, well, it’s not, uh, technically free. The community will have to invest in the upkeep of the garden, with their time or resources. Pick their own produce, that sort of thing.”
************
This was unbelievable.
“They have to harvest their own food? What is this? Les Mis?”
He threw his hands up in the air and then stomped off back to his store. He had no time to think about how cute Patrick’s little upside down smile was at this time. He was too upset. What kind of monster builds a garden for their community? A garden that provides food and convocation and a sense of ownership to the town? A garden that would help the less fortunate in the area? A garden that the youths in the town could maybe get invested in, to keep them from getting into trouble?
Great! By the time he made it back inside the store, he was already planning to call Hannah about customizing some larger sized tote bags that would be a perfect, reusable way for people to carry their produce home from the garden. He grabbed his sketchbook and immediately started to create a logo, one that would not clash with his RA bags, but also would complement them.
Maybe Stevie was right. Maybe Patrick wasn’t a jerk. Maybe his sole purpose in life wasn’t to make David miserable. Maybe he was actually nice.
************
The answer was yes. Yes, it was possible to become even more smitten with a virtual stranger. A man he had only spoken to twice now. He didn’t know what it was about David. He kind of thought it was just everything. Everything about David was exactly what he never knew he wanted. He was soft and abrasive, sexy and awkward, shy and confident, quick-witted and smart, and so much more. He was everything. And he had just given him an idea.
Thankfully, Jocelyn was home when he asked to borrow the truck to run to the nursery for some last minute plants. She handed over the keys with a smile, and simply asked him to put a little gas in the tank. Had Roland been there, he would’ve had to sign his life away and refill the wiper fluid, or something else ridiculous.
Gardening in the dark was not one of the brightest ideas he had ever had, but he had to do what he had to do. He only hoped it would soften the bristly new owner lessee of the general store.
************
The street was alive with energy. He could hear people talking and laughing as he made his way towards the store. The lot was packed. There were more pick-up trucks lining Main Street than were at that whole gatortail thing Stevie and Alexis had basically forced him to go to when they first moved here.
He could see Patrick strolling through the garden, helping here and there, carrying a little clipboard around. A pleased smile was on his face. He was beautiful.
He stopped briefly when Hannah called out his name. Apparently she was so excited about the garden when they spoke yesterday that she had immediately called town hall to get more details. She was proudly working on planting some tomato plants. He had no idea how anyone could differentiate between what was what, they all looked the same to him.
************
He watched him animatedly talking to one of the volunteers, Hannah, he thinks was her name. He was keeping a safe distance, he could see his eyes tracking all the equipment and soil, ready to jump away at a moments notice. He watched him walk with her to her car to get a box from the trunk, before finally making his way to cross over to his store.
He could tell the moment he noticed. He paused mid-stride in the middle of the street, before cautiously approaching the side of the building. He was shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He turned back towards the garden, and looked appreciatively at the matching bushes planted along that sidewalk as well. Even from this distance he could see him fighting a smile.
When he turned his eyes on him, he could feel the fire coursing through his body. He was pinned in place by his gaze. He couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to risk moving a muscle lest he break the spell. But then someone honked their horn and startled them back to reality. He gave him a little wave and curtsy, before hurrying around the corner and into the store.
************
White roses. He had planted white rose bushes all along the border of his store and the border of the garden. They were gorgeous, with a light violet and lemon fragrance that did not overpower the senses. They were very on brand for his aesthetic. They were perfect. They elevated the whole feel of the intersection.
Of course he was already looking at him. He could feel the fondness emanating from him. How was he real? How did David go from thinking he was the biggest, rudest asshole on the planet to having a major crush on him? He wished he was brave enough to go speak to him, maybe help in the garden, in a supervisory role only, obviously. But instead he just gave him an awkward wave and went to work readying his store.
He opened the box of Rose Apothecary totes and felt a rush of pride run through him. He was really doing this. The final bag in the box was a mock-up of the garden tote he had designed, Hannah was clearly very excited about it. It looked amazing. He couldn’t wait to show it to Patrick. Ugh. Now he had to suffer through a call with Ray to get his number.
************
He couldn’t believe the turnout today. The whole town seemed to want in on making the garden a success. He pulled his phone out to take some pictures for the town newsletter and to send to his parents. He was shocked to see 8 missed calls and 8 new voicemails. He didn’t recognize the number. He stepped off to the side to listen to them, he didn’t want anyone to overhear if it was Rachel begging him to go back to her. He wouldn’t put it past her to have gotten a new number to trick him into talking to her.
It was not Rachel.
The messages started with “Hi David, it’s Patrick!” and ended after 15 minutes of nervous rambling, self-deprecation, a treatise on proper sun-care for the fair skinned, and an alarming number of creative ideas for the community garden. Tote bags, a logo, ceramic plant markers, handmade leather gardening gloves, garden party events, he had a lot of ideas. Yes. He was completely smitten. He sent him a quick text that he would stop by the store later that evening. He could not stop smiling for the rest of the day.
************
His nerves and embarrassment at leaving all those ridiculous voicemails was erased with one simple text. A text from the guy he liked, saying he’d be by later with pizza and breadsticks. He just might be perfect.
It was dark outside when he heard the light tapping on the glass doors. He still had not called the electrician to wire the wall sconces in the main room and install the dimmer switch for the overhead lights. That much florescence was incorrect, so he had been working in the supply room ever since the sun went down.
His breath caught in his throat when he opened the door. There he was crisp and clean, wearing a light blue button down shirt and a tight pair of jeans. In his hands was an extra large pizza from the new place out near Elmdale. It smelled divine, and his stomach growled in anticipation.
And then he saw it, laying on top of the box was a single white rose. Yes. He was perfect.
************
“I see you’ve already desecrated my rose bushes!”
“Well, technically David, they’re the communities rose bushes, and since I trimmed it from the back, no will be able to tell it’s missing.”
“I hate to break it to you but as a member of the community watch group, it is my civic duty to report hoodlums when I see them.”
“Agreed, agreed. But, you might consider that since it’s now on your property maybe you’re the one that did the desecrating and then tried to plant it on me when I came in. Really at this point it’s your word against mine, so maybe don’t involve the authorities just yet.”
He tucked his smile into the corner of his mouth, oh god, he had dimples.
“Well, consider yourself on probation for now, I need to see what toppings you deemed appropriate for this pizza before I make any final decisions.”
“Okay David.”
The sounds coming from his mouth would indicate that he was very pleased with the double pepperoni and cheese pizza. He could only imagine what sounds—nope, he could not think about that right now, his pants were already tight enough as is.
***********
How had he ever thought badly of this man? He was funny, and kind, and smart, and smoking hot. He was also a complete dork, holding up his breadstick until he had cheers’d his own against it to start their date dinner. Now that he knows the way he teases, he sees their whole initial interaction in a new light. He should have listened to Stevie, and that’s something that he will never, ever tell her.
They stayed well into the night, talking about the town and its inhabitants, the garden, the store, any and everything. It was the best first date of his life, and yes, he was definitely considering it a date now. There were only so many ways Patrick could stare longingly into his eyes, hanging on every word he said, before he got the hint.
He was going to come by the next day on his lunch break to help set up the point of use system and teach him how to keep better track of his inventory.
************
This was the best first date of his life. He was already so far gone on David Rose, that it was almost embarrassing, if he cared enough about that sort of thing. He did not. The soft look he gave him when he offered to drive him home was, well, it was something. He never knew chivalry could feel like this. He wanted nothing more than to do things for David. Drive him home, find him an electrician, set up his spreadsheets, bring him flowers, join his business.
He had never felt like this before.
When his warm hand gently cupped his jaw and pulled him into a soft kiss, suffice it to say he had never felt like that before either. He had never felt the spark, the butterflies, the desire. The passion he felt from this tender touching of their lips was overwhelming. How had he gone his whole life without knowing what right could, or should, feel like?
************
Six months later…
Finally!
The Harvest Park and Hothouse were both up and running. The community got behind them in a big way when they floated the idea of adding a greenhouse for more exotic fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Rose Apothecary was thriving. Patrick decided to celebrate their 6th Monthiversary—such a dork—by having a garden block party. They closed down Main Street for the event. There was music, dancing, some of their vendors held mini crafting sessions, and the highlight of it all, the food. Roland and Ronnie manned the grills, cooking burgers, sausage dogs, chicken, ribs, the works. The sides, the sides were amazing. Casseroles, salsas, salads, potatoes cooked every way imaginable.
************
His boyfriend had proclaimed himself the head judge in the fabricated dessert bake-off. He was all smiles as he sampled pies, cakes, cookies, cobblers, ice cream, and pastries. The amount of food that man could eat was alarming. His lips were sweet when he leaned in for a kiss, a dusting of powdered sugar leftover from his latest tasting plate.
Starting a community garden in this little town in the middle of nowhere, was the best idea he’d ever had. It had brought him a sense of purpose when he was lost, a sense of community when he had never felt more alone, it had brought life and love into his heart when he had thought he was undeserving and broken.
It had brought him to David.
What more could he ask?