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“Oh.” Julia didn’t know what to say. A man had never asked her to call him by his forename.
“Besides, you and I—we sleep across the corridor from one another, like a brother and sister. It is silly to stand on ceremony with such an arrangement, non?”
He took the twine and a knife from the table and then moved toward the door, picking up the bucket of cuttings and the wide brimmed hat leaning against it. “I will fetch you for lunch, Juliette?”
“Yes.” She wiped imaginary dirt from the table with the cloth, needing to keep her hands busy and to look at something besides him. “Thank you.”
Once the door closed, Julia stopped wiping the table. “Luc,” she said softly, enjoying how it sounded. And surprisingly, she’d enjoyed how her name sounded when he’d said it as well. But she did not at all enjoy his suggestion that the two were like brother and sister.
Feeling the anticipation of a project, Julia set to work. She dragged the crates of seedlings closer to the worktable and tried to move the barrel, but it was too heavy. No matter. Within a moment, she had developed a system: take a pot to the barrel, and once it was filled with soil, bring it with a new seedling back to the table to plant. The work moved quickly, and at last, she planted the final seedling.
Seeing the pots lined up with their little sprouts all tidily planted gave her the pleasant, satisfied feeling that always accompanied the completion of a task.
Julia looked at her wristwatch and the watch hanging from her neck. Having still a few hours until lunchtime, she decided the rest of the nursery could use straightening as well.
She set the pouch of olive seeds on the worktable and moved the empty crates outside the door. She found an old broom and pulled out the pots from beneath the tables so she could sweep behind them. She cleaned off the other worktable, swept out the cobwebs and piles of spilled dirt from the corners of the room, and then cleaned out the old pots, dumping the old dirt into the bucket. She brought the pots in from outside the building and stacked all of the empty pots neatly under the tables. Some of the containers beneath the table had plants in them, and these she moved to the top, where they could get the sunlight they needed.
She pushed and pulled the heavier pots of trees on the ground to the far wall, arranging them by size.
Seeing nails in the wall, Julia hung as many tools up and out of the way as she could, and the rest she put into buckets or leaned nicely in a corner.
Luc still hadn’t come for her, and she decided planting the olive seeds was an easy enough task. She’d planted bean seeds in school, and it was much simpler than the seedlings had been. She opened the pouch and poured out the seeds, then found small pots for them, filled them with soil, pressed the seeds in, and covered them.
Finally, she took the watering can out to the pump in the garden and filled it, making the trip back and forth a few times until everything was watered thoroughly.
The nursery looked splendid, and Julia could not stop her smile when she thought of how pleased Luc would be when he saw it.
When Luc returned a quarter of an hour later, Julia stood back to allow him to see the space in its entirety. He took a few steps inside and turned slowly, taking it all in. He was apparently too delighted to speak.
“Juliette...”
“It was really no trouble,” she said. She clasped her hands in front of her waist. His reaction was even better than she’d imagined. He was actually speechless. A warm bubble expanded in her chest.
He set down the bucket with the remainder of the cuttings by the door. He looked at Julia, then at the nursery. “It is very tidy.”
“Much better, don’t you agree?” Julia fought against her grin. She felt very proud to have done such a splendid job in such a short amount of time.
Luc scratched his jaw, his gaze moving over the room as if searching for the right words to express his pleasure at the surprise. “You finished the planting, I see.” He walked between the tables, looking at all of the pots. He picked up one of the newly planted seedlings. A trickle of water drained out of the hole in the bottom of the pot, and Luc winced.
A tinge of unease began inside her. “Is something... did I do something wrong?”
Luc lifted another little pot, letting it drip. “The cuttings are very delicate at this stage,” he said. “They need to remain dry.”
“Oh.”
“And out of the sun.”
Her stomach got hot. “I assumed all plants need water and sunlight.”
He didn’t respond but lifted a few other pots, watching the water drain out. “Juliette.” Luc lifted the seed pouch. His voice was calm, but she could tell he exerted an effort to keep it so. “Where are the olive seeds?”
“I planted them,” she said in a quiet voice, praying it hadn’t been the wrong thing to do as well. She joined him at the table. “They are in these pots, here.”
Luc nodded, and his lips pressed together.
“That was wrong as well, wasn’t it?” Julia asked.
“The seeds need to be prepared first.” He pulled off his hat and rubbed the back of his neck. “And these”—he indicated the pots she’d moved to the sides of the room—“they were arranged by variety and age. I—”
