Chapter 165

Sarah POV

I’d invited Melissa to the “restoration party” for the poppy garden as a matter of course, considering what a photo op it would be, but that didn’t curb my delight when she said yes.

The fire damage had been cleaned up, and the shed had been repainted in a soothing off-white. Dr. Hayes turned up, as did Anna Pfizer, an alpha from Zane’s legislative board, and, most surprisingly of all, Shotz. I managed not to make an ass out of myself talking about how much healthier he looked, though it was close.

His brown hair was free of dust, and his hazel eyes looked happy. He shook my hand and said his mother had loved gardening, which instantly endeared him to Mazel, who was standing next to me passing out supplies.

There were a few sanctioned photographers from various press organizations, so first we all posed for photos. Melissa and I shook hands over a bag of mulch, Zane and Alpha Anna posed as though directing things, and Mavis, Melissa, Zane, and I looked at some cute little seedlings in biodegradable pots.

I insisted Shotz be in some photos, and then one of the photographers asked about the girls, and I said they were in school. Another photographer asked about Selene, and I said she was locked up good and tight in the villa because I didn’t want to spend two hours giving her a bath.

It got a good laugh.

I should have realized it beforehand, but Melissa had already conscripted Mavis for a mini-documentary on poppies. They both made sure to involve everyone and to do real work as we dug and watered and all the rest, and the day sped by as a celebration of life, not a memorial to the garden that had been lost.

Mavis explained to Melissa (and to her videographer) direct seeding was the recommended method for poppy planting. This meant that instead of hoeing a series of rows and then planting seedlings, we just sprinkled the seeds evenly over a smoothly raked garden bed and then watered them gently. Using seedlings meant messing about with their roots, which they didn’t care for.

They also liked a little cold air around them before germination, and Mavis told us all with pleasure that fall was a great time of year for that because there would be a little nip in the air that evening.

“Poppy seeds are little things,” Mavis said. “As you can see, I’ve mixed them with a little white sand so that we can see we’re evenly spreading them out.”

So we spent about an hour spreading out the various seeds she had, all of them with backstories Melissa listened to with rapt attention. I confess I took a break for a cup of tea at some point. But then we were covering up the soil with sheets to keep the birds from eating the seeds.

There were some poppy varieties that Mavis used seedlings for, and these required a little extra effort. All this led to a lot of posing and laughing, though at one point Shotz told me he hadn’t been exaggerating his mother’s love of gardens, and I found out she liked herb gardens best.

“She really loved rosemary,” he said. “It doesn’t die off like other herbs, and it’s easy to give people cuttings.”

“I wish I could have met her,” I said, and though I would have welcomed it, he didn’t tell me how she died. I had learned enough at least not to ask.

Melissa brought Mavis over to a table where she’d arranged some poppies in flowerpots. “So, you can grow poppies in containers?” she asked.

I confess I zoned out slightly as Mavis explained the best varieties for flowerpots were the Iceland poppy, Oriental poppy, Shirley poppy, and California poppy. I did nod in agreement with everyone around me that the poppies she had laid out were lovely.

Mavis then went into the importance of weeding poppies regularly, though you could become less vigilant when they were established, of being careful not to over- or under-water poppies, and of watching out for hard freezes. Draining and watching out for fungi were also important.

Was it awful of me that I was starting to get sick and tired of poppies?

But then, I thought about it as I looked over the poppy garden, which had been sewn and watered and covered, that the garden was a hopeful thing, a finger raised in salute to whatever hateful people had set fire to it and spray-painted anti-human symbols on the shed. I could not help but think about how I wanted to be like this garden, that I wanted to remake myself in a purer fashion, free of hate and prejudice.

More than that, as I heard more than once that day, poppies were the root of all opioids, the painkillers that, while dangerous, had prevented the suffering of so many. Yes, willow bark had given us aspirin, and there were other plants that soothed and relieved, but poppies had been so important in the history of wolf and human medicine.

I realized I wanted to get Mavis alone for a little talk. Was their medicinal aspect a reason she loved poppies so much?

Melissa set up her shot for the closure to her documentary, and I wondered if she would say something along those lines.

“This poppy garden has been Miss Mavis’s pride and joy for many years, and it will continue to be so,” she told the camera. “It’s not just some symbol for rebirth and the continuance of tradition, though of course that’s what we first think of. It’s about love and joy, about beauty and the riot of colors that will soon grace this parcel of land.

“Gardens are incredible things. They give so much pleasure by just existing. They inspire me to think of a world where all people do the same for each other. Truly, what better symbol can there be for the best of wolf and human society than a garden celebrating the plants we both owe so much to?”

“This is Melissa Wilson, and I’m proud to have been a part of today’s planting of what will soon become a world-class poppy garden.”

She got a little round of applause, which I confess I would have joined in less enthusiastically if I hadn’t seen her carry around heavy sacks of soil and fertilizer all day.

The sun began to set on the entire affair, and I helped pick up the last of the trash while Zane and some other alphas stacked sacks of potting soil and fertilizer by the shed. I was looking for Mavis, but then I was standing next to Melissa, and so I congratulated her on doing such a good job with her video.

“I saw some of the comments online,” she told me quietly. I turned to her in surprise and saw she truly looked distressed. “Some of them are truly alarming.”

I wanted to shrug it off but ended up sighing instead. “I know.”

She looked at me seriously. “If I can help at all, with anything, you will let me know?”

I smiled, and I realized the day had replenished my spirit in a way I hadn’t even realized I needed.

“I will,” I said. “And thank you.”