I always thought my grumpy old neighbor, Mr. Sloan, lived just to ruin my life. But the morning he dumped dirt all over my roses, I had no idea he’d already planned something that would trap me forever.
I loved mornings.
Especially out there in the suburbs. I had my little garden and the freedom to breathe the way I liked.
I was a florist: bouquet orders came through the internet and good old word of mouth. That summer, wedding requests had saved me.
The roses from my garden were in demand among brides.
I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on the porch with my notebook.
I took a sip and glanced at the flower bed and nearly choked.
Instead of neat rows of rose bushes, there was a whole mountain of dark soil. Right in the middle of my flowers!
“Oh, come on! Not again!
Who else could it be if not that old pest?”
I knew exactly who it was. My neighbor, Mr. Sloan.
The only downside to my peaceful life out there.
The man who had dedicated his retirement years to making my life miserable.
“I’m gonna tell him everything this time. This is my work, for heaven’s sake.”
I stepped angrily over the stones at the edge of my yard and stopped. In front of Mr.
Sloan’s old house were a couple of unfamiliar cars.
“What happened here?” I asked Mrs. Pearson, the woman from the next street over.
“Linda… Harold… passed away last night.
Heart attack, they say.”
All the anger inside me just drained out like someone had poured it straight into the soil, right onto my crushed roses.
I turned around. A man in a suit stepped closer and held out his hand.
“James H. Mr.
Sloan’s lawyer. After the funeral, we’ll be reading his last will. You’re required to be present.”
“That’s his wish.
You’ll find out everything after the farewell.”
I glanced back at the pile of dirt and the dead rose bush peeking out from underneath.
I felt a chill run through me…
What did you cook up this time, Sloan?
***
The following day, I sat in the back row of the small funeral hall and couldn’t take my eyes off the coffin. I stared at Mr. Sloan and replayed every fight we’d ever had.
What did you cook up for me this time, old man?
What cruel joke did you leave behind?
After the farewell, the lawyer invited me into a small office inside the funeral home.
An unfamiliar elderly woman was already sitting there. She was staring out the window, looking so… defenseless.
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