Page 46 of Bittersweet & Strange

He returns to the tree. “Yet you arrived.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I take a bite of the apple instead and watch him work from a safe distance. He runs his fingers along one of the branches, examining the leaves before making another careful cut. There’s something strange about seeing those enormous hands doing something so precise when I know exactly how much damage they’re capable of causing.

He’s so gentle with the trees.

He’s never gentle with me.

Eventually, curiosity wins.

“What are you doing?”

“Pruning.”

“I can see that.”

His eyes slide toward me.

I take another bite of my apple.

“Why?”

Rhys looks back at the tree and carefully turns one of the branches between his fingers before answering.

“So it continues to bear fruit.”

I watch him work for a while, following the careful movements of his hands as he tends to the tree. “My garden at home is never this abundant.”

He looks up from the branch he’s examining. “If the soil is inadequate, the yield will be significantly less.”

I nod before shrugging. “It’s all we have.” The words leave my mouth before I realize they aren’t true anymore. I look down at the apple. “Had.”

He says nothing as he sets the shears down, then reaches toward a long, hanging branch and plucks something from between the leaves. His fingers close around whatever it is before he turns toward me.

“Come here.”

I hesitate, like I always do. The shears are sitting close enough to his hand that he could grab them and use them as a weapon before I had any chance to get away.

“It’s all right,” he says without looking at me.

My heart starts beating faster anyway, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other until I’m standing beside him. He holds out his hand and slowly opens his fist, revealing a single bright red fruit sitting in the center of his palm.

“A cherry,” I say in complete disbelief.

I’ve read about them, seen drawings of them in books, but I’ve never actually tasted one.

He looks down at the fruit. “My favorite.”

I take it carefully from his hand and bite into it, surprised by how sweet and firm it is. I chew slowly while the little seed in the center rolls around on my tongue. I spit it into my palm and stare at it before Rhys holds out his hand.

“We’ll plant it,” he says quietly.

I curl my fingers around the seed instead of giving it to him. “Can I? I’d like to plant my first cherry.”

He looks from me to an empty clay pot sitting nearby, then gestures toward it and produces a small shovel that he hands to me. There’s a pile of dark soil beside us, and with the greenhouse warm enough that I’m beginning to sweat, I pull off my sweater before kneeling beside the pot and shoveling dirt into it.

“More,” he says when I stop.

I add several more scoops before looking at him again for approval.