But Nathaniel looks so happy to have someone else here, and honestly, Ididpepper-spray the man in the face. So I listen without complaint as we start pulling the weeds. We’ve worked through the vegetable patch by the time Cormac comes around the side of the house, wearing another gaming T-shirt, only his saysHalf-Life 2.
“We’re one of those fake couples who matches now?” I ask with a grin, dropping my weeding bag. “I think I have conscientious objections.”
“Yes, I thought you might. But I figured we could take a photo for you to share with Pansy.”
“I’m covered with dirt and plant gunk.”
He grins, taking me in, his eyes sliding down my body. “Exactly. She’d never believe it was posed.”
“Did I hear something about a photo, kids?” Nathaniel asks cheerfully, setting down the bottle of sun tea he was justglugging from. I might have mentally mocked his dorky hat, but I currently wish I had one.
“Okay, fine,” I say grumpily.
I circle out of the garden, and Cormac puts a hand around me. “You weren’t lying about getting it sweaty,” he comments.
I poke him. “Just you wait. You’re going to be begging Nathaniel for his mystery tea.”
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Nathaniel says brightly.
It’s not. It tastes like what it is—water with plants left to molder in it.
“Cormac comes to my stand at the farmer’s market every week to buy some,” Nathaniel continues.
Cormac nods, but when I meet his eyes, I see a glimmer of amusement on his face, and I know he doesn’t do it because he has a taste for the rank tea. He does it for Nathaniel.
I don’t want to care, but I damn well do.
Cormac takes a few selfies of us because his arms are much longer than mine, and also because Nathaniel doesn’t even like to handle other people’s cell phones.
We get back to weeding, this time the herb patch, and Nathaniel tells us fifty possible uses for rosemary, which is good, since he has enough to supply his own spice company. It’s when we get to the third quadrant of the garden that things get interesting.
“This is the medicinal quadrant,” he announces.
Morning glories climb the fence, and within the quadrant, tall plants present their leaves sunward, waving in the breeze.
Is that…pot?
A closer look around suggests it’s not the only less-than-legal entry in Nathaniel’s garden.
“Ayahuasca?” I ask in shock, pointing. I’ve only seen photos of it on the internet, after José went on atripa few years back,but the leaves on the shrub in front of me are veiny and distinctive.
“It’s perfectly legal when you grow it yourself, for your own use,” Nathaniel proclaims with unwarranted confidence. “There are some mushrooms too. Feel free to bring a handful home.”
I sneak a glance at Cormac, wondering if he’s going to rat Nathaniel out. He’s definitely more of a rule follower than I am, but he gives his head a microshake, meant just for me, before meeting his friend’s eyes. “I don’t know who told you that, Nathaniel, but they were lying. I wouldn’t bring any cops back here.”
“Or narcs,” I put in. “We’re not, obviously.”
“No, we’re not,” Cormac agrees. “And only partially because Nora sprayed you in the face with homemade pepper spray. Some laws don’t make sense. I’ve made a few additions to my house that don’t adhere to code.”
I bump my shoulder against his. “You wild man, you.”
He lifts his hand and brushes something off my face. “Dirt.”
“First you pointed out the pepper in my teeth, and now you’re cleaning dirt off my face.”
“I guess I like grooming you.”
I have butterflies. Fucking butterflies. I want to be mad about it, but it’s hard with the sun warm overhead and Nathaniel’s illegal plants blooming so abundantly all around us. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re outside, and we’re doing something odd and fun together. It’s a good moment. I’m glad to be here, and right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else.
