Chapter 27 Not for Sale
Word traveled faster than Rebecca expected. Not everywhere. Just enough.
A few visitors had stopped by the garden during the week, mostly friends and neighbors wandering through to see how everything was growing after the rain. Most noticed the bigger hostas first—the mature clumps, the giant leaves, the plants filling entire corners of the beds.
But every now and then…Someone paused near the marker. And looked twice.
Rebecca tried not to make too much of it.
The plant was still small. Still unstable. Still changing from leaf to leaf. But now that the streaks had become easier to see, people noticed it almost immediately.
That morning, she was watering near the path when a familiar voice called out from the gate. “Morning,” said Harold.
Rebecca smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
Harold stepped into the garden carrying a cardboard tray with a couple small plants tucked inside. He was the kind of gardener who always brought something when he visited. “Thought I’d drop these off,” he said. “Figured you might find a place for them.”
Rebecca looked inside the tray.
“You know I will.”
Harold wandered slowly through the garden while Rebecca finished watering. He stopped to admire a few mature hostas near the shade bed, then drifted farther down the path. And then—He stopped near the marker.
Rebecca noticed immediately.
Harold crouched slowly, studying the streaked leaves without saying anything at first.“Well now,” he said quietly.
Sam looked over from the porch swing. “Yep. Everybody does that.”
Harold leaned closer.
The first streak had widened again. The second leaf now carried more cream through the center, feathering softly outward into green.
Still not stable.
Still not predictable.
But definitely becoming something.
Harold glanced back toward Rebecca. “You selling this one?”
Rebecca answered too quickly. “No.”
Harold laughed softly. “That was immediate.”
Rebecca set the hose down and walked over slowly. “It’s not ready,” she said.
Harold nodded. “That’s usually the good ones.”
Dave rested his arms along the fence nearby, grinning before Rebecca could respond.
“Told you,” Dave said. “Plant’s getting famous.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes slightly but looked back down at the plant.
Funny thing was—
A month ago nobody wanted it.
Now somebody had already tried to buy it.
Harold stood back up slowly. “Well,” he said, “if you ever decide to divide it…”
Rebecca shook her head before he even finished. “Not happening.”
Sam laughed from the porch. “Now it’s really hers.”
Rebecca smiled despite herself.
Maybe it was.
She looked down at the little plant sitting quietly in the soil beneath the morning light.
Still small.
Still changing.
Still becoming whatever it wanted to become.
But one thing was certain now.
It wasn’t overlooked anymore.