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I hold back a laugh. Callum is not a person. Callum is a fiddle leaf fig, a large indoor plant with big, glossy leaves. Temperamental things, they are. To Gram, her plants are her babies. She names each and every one of them. I’ve had to keep a list over the years.
“I moved him,” she explains, leading me toward the plant. “And before you admonish me, I knew what I was doing. Or, I thought I knew.”
Fiddle leaf figs are very sensitive to environmental changes. And if Gram moved Callum on her own, I can only imagine it was a very traumatic journey from the library to the sitting room.
“Just look at how he’sdrooping,” she says, holding her arms out in desperation toward Callum.
Callum stands tall in the corner, except for his leaves, which are shriveling downward.
“Aw, poor guy. Just a little shy, I think. And a little angry with you,” I say.
Gram crosses her arms. “I thought he’d be happier in here.”
I grin. “Don’t worry, it’s not forever. Let’s give him a little leaf massage, huh?”
We go to Callum and each start petting his leaves softly. It’s my job to water plants, but I’ve also become a bit of a plant whisperer. I’d love to have a dog, but dogs are like babies who never learn to use the toilet, so plants are what I can handle right now.
And just like any living thing, they like affection.
“Callum, you’ve given me quite a fright,” Gram says grouchily.
I spy her massaging his leaves a little too forcefully. “Have you introduced him to the other plants in the room?”
“Ah! No. That’s a great idea. Let’s see – Pepper!”
Gram goes one by one, taking each smaller plant up to Callum and letting the two plants get acquainted. I brush my hand against Callum’s thick stem (listen, I know how it sounds but he’s a plant and this is myjob) in support.
“I already think he’s looking up,” Gram says, taking a step back from him. “Thank you, dear. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Just doing my job,” I say.
“That’s right, let me get my checkbook.”
I wave my hand. “Gram, please. We’re going to be family. No need to pay me.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she says, knitting her brow together. “You’re sure?”
“What’s family for but to take care of each other’s plants when they’re in crisis?”
Gram smiles sweetly. I may be more subject to her wrath now that I’m a member of the Gladstone clan, just as Caroline warned, but I also get a warmth from Gram I’ve never seen before. It’s more akin to love than like.
And it terrifies me.
“I suppose I can make up the difference once your little one is here.”
My stomach reflexively tucks inward. I force a smile.
“You and Chase should know that I’ll always be free to babysit. No matter what.”
“That’s very kind of you, Gram.”
She scoffs. “Not kind at all, dear. That’s what family is for after all.”
As Gram comes closer to me, all I want to do is run away.
“You can’t even begin to fathom the kind of gift it will be for all of us when you and Chase start having children.”
Children!? As in plural? She’ll be lucky if she gets one out of me.
