Chapter 28 What Would You Call It?
The garden had settled into one of those quiet late-spring rhythms where everything seemed to grow a little overnight. Leaves stretched wider. Flower scapes climbed taller. And the little streaked plant near the bend in the path had changed again.
Rebecca stood over it early that morning with her coffee in hand, studying the newest leaf that had opened during the week. The streaking had become cleaner now—still uneven, still unpredictable, but stronger than before. Not just a fluke anymore. Something was happening.
Sam stepped onto the path beside her and looked down at the plant. “Well,” he said, “you can’t really call it the leftover anymore.”
Rebecca laughed softly. “That’s probably true.”
The small marker still sat beside the plant, stained slightly from rain and dirt. No name written on it. Just enough to remind her not to overlook it again.
Across the fence, Dave leaned against the top rail like always, already watching the conversation before he even joined it. “So,” he called out, “what’re you naming it?”
Rebecca shook her head immediately. “I’m not.”
Dave grinned. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s too early.”
Sam crouched beside the plant, studying the newest leaf more carefully. “Still,” he said, “you’ve gotta be thinking about it.”
Rebecca didn’t answer right away.
Truth was…
She had been.
Not officially. Not seriously.
But every time she walked past it now, the same thought crossed her mind. What if this one actually became something special?
The garden was full of plants with names. Some named after places. Some after people. Some after moments that mattered only to the grower who first noticed them.
And somehow that always felt fitting.
Dave nodded toward the plant. “Well, if you ask me, it oughta have something to do with the swap.”
Rebecca smiled faintly. “Because nobody wanted it?”
“Exactly.”
Sam laughed. “That’s actually not bad.”
Rebecca looked back down at the plant. A month ago it had sat ignored in a leftover tray after the plant swap, nearly dried out before she brought it home and tucked it into the shade bed.
Now people stopped to look at it every time they walked past. Funny how quickly things could change.
Linda’s voice suddenly came from the path behind them. “Please don’t name that thing Leftovers.”
Rebecca laughed harder this time as Linda stepped into the garden carrying an iced coffee in one hand. “I wasn’t planning to.”
Linda crouched beside the plant, studying the newest streaked leaf with a quiet smile.
“You know,” she said softly, “sometimes the best plants are the ones that almost got missed.”
Rebecca looked at her for a second but didn’t say anything. Because she knew Linda wasn’t just talking about plants.
The breeze moved softly through the shade garden, stirring the leaves around them while sunlight slipped through the trees overhead in scattered patches.
For a few quiet moments, nobody said much.
They all just looked at the little plant sitting there beneath the marker.
Still small.
Still becoming.
Still unnamed.
But no longer unnoticed.
And maybe…
That was enough for now.