a snatch of cotton nestled in the hollow of her throat . Maybe it ’ s only the little bit of rot le from the blight . Or perhaps a reaction to the trace of pollen in the air , sweet and golden . “ C ’ mon dear ,” Thomas calls . He ’ s almost to the row of lilac sweet peas he ’ s so set on . “ I want this one ,” she whispers . His back is to her . He can ’ t even see her lips moving . He has no idea she ’ s said anything .
The receptionist notices Sarah ’ s preoccupation , and as any good saleswoman , she sidles closer , a cheery smile painted on her face . When she sees exactly which pansy Sarah examines , the smile falters for a half a second . “ Can I help you , Ma ’ am ?” “ Yes , I ’ d like this one please ,” Sarah says . The woman frowns with only her brow . Her lips still stretch tight across her teeth , like cling wrap to a dish .
“ I beg your pardon ?” she says . “ You speak so so ly , I ’ m afraid .” Sarah has learned to notice what people look like when they don ’ t hear , and what they look like when they pretend not to . This woman is pretending . Sarah wants to glare , but it ’ s not in her nature . Perhaps her card , before it was thrown away , noted a sweet , sensitive disposition . Or maybe not . Sarah glares anyway .
“ I would like this baby , please ,” she repeats . There is nothing so here , though she speaks as quietly as ever .
The woman ’ s smile loosens . She still tries to maintain the li ed corners , the crease at her eyes , but everything in between has melted , the lips limp and puckered . “ I ’ m afraid that ’ s not possible . This particular specimen was a failed crop . She ’ s the last of those seedlings to senesce .” Yes , Sarah had suspected as much . “ I want her .” “ What ’ s going on , Sarah ?” Thomas has returned at this point . His slight inclination for impatience is showing .